I don’t know if we’re still in the age of Y/N L/N search-and-replace self-insert fanfics but can I just say there’s MASSIVE untapped potential for a Y/N L/N Death Note fanfiction if you just

if you just

hang on. This. Like this:

Light clicked his bedroom door shut, and leaned against it, and slid gently down. His attention was wrapped so wholly in the unmarked envelope in his hand. He slit it open, and unsheathed the documents like he was pulling money from a wallet. He was, in a sense. These documents had cost him. The private eye he hired had not been cheap.

But it HAD been worth it, Light knew with relief washing through his veins as he thumbed through the contents: birth certificate, social security card, medical records, vaccination history, school records, IDs with photos – mother’s name, father’s name, date of birth, eye color, hair color, blood type.

Light held in his hands EVERYTHING there was to know about the girl. And he basked in it, drinking it in, a name finally to attach to the woman who haunted him.

First name: Y/N. Last name: L/N.

Light cracked a grin, rib cage rippling with manic chuckles that bubbled to his lips and erupted, cackles, delighted trills. The sense of victory flooded him. That girl who knew he was Kira, that girl who had worked so hard to hide her identity, that girl who plagued him, followed him, haunted him every day, who he could never touch.

Finally, Light could kill her.

He rose, and walked nearly numb to his desk, and pulled out the scrap of Death Note he kept in the false bottom of the top drawer. He reveled in it as he wrote: Y/N L/N, dies alone at 11:48pm of a brain aneurysm.

The damnation felt so sweet.

She was waiting for him, early as the sun which crested behind her, all soft smiles and sweet squinted eyes. She was waiting for him as she did every single day. She stood there, as always – a thing of nightmares.

The blood left Light’s face once he opened the front door to her, feet and hands tingling cold, stomach in knots.

He’d been worried when he awoke to no news about his dead university classmate. And the confirmation of his every fear settled as a knot in his gut. Y/N L/N was alive, in front of him, just as she was every other day, smiling.

“You seem surprised, Light. Like you’ve seen a ghost?” Her wry smile was a mockery. Light loathed her more than anything.

“Y/N … L/N…” he muttered, through gritted teeth. “…Good morning.”

“Oh! You discovered my name. Good job good job, that was faster than I expected.”


“Aren’t I dead?” she titled her head and swayed a bit in place. “That’s how Kira kills people, yeah? Full name? And you’ve got mine. So why aren’t I dead?”

Kira. Light’s eye twitched. She did that. At every chance, dropping with such nonchalance that she knew. If he argued back, she would ignore him. If he defended himself, it would get him nowhere.

Ignore, deflect, probe, find a weak point.

“Is it a fake name? Is Y/N L/N a fake name?” It would be hard to believe; it would be beyond elaborate. Every ounce of documentation would need to have been faked, or else perfectly stolen, with a complete erasure of who the girl really was. Not a single piece of contradictory evidence. Enough to completely fool Japan’s most esteemed private eye. It was almost unfathomable.

“No, it’s not a fake name. That’s my name. My real name. You’re right.” She spun on her heel and walked forward, into the sun, toward campus, sunlight streaking through the wisps in her hair. “But you can’t kill me with it, Kira.”

Light refused to answer. He refused to concede. He refused to show his hand, and yet, maybe he already had… Maybe he’d already lost.

He’d try again tonight. He’d try again as many times as it took to eliminate her, this unfathomable girl, who appeared in his uni classroom claiming to be an old elementary school classmate of his, who followed him every day and spoke in hints that suggested she knew, and yet never revealed how, or why, or what she wanted from him.

He’d try again. He’d kill her this time.

“It won’t work, trying again, that is. If you want to kill me, you’ll have to use your own hands.” She glanced over her shoulder at him. “But that’s messy, and suspicious, and too easy to solve, right? So you need the Death Note to do away with me. But it won’t work.”

Death Note, dammit, she really DID know.

“Hey Light, what’s my name?”

“Y/N, L/N,” he ground out, almost robotically.

“Say it again.”

“Y/N, L/N.”

“And what name did you write in the Death Note?”

Light hesitated. Did he stand any chance of keeping his hand concealed?

He locked eyes with her, and he knew the answer was no. She knew. He knew.

“Y/N L/N.”

“Doesn’t sound quite right, does it?” she asked. And with her words, Light felt some unsettled something thud in his chest. A disquiet. An unrest. A thinly veiled wrongness.

“My name, that name, Y/N L/N, how do you spell it?” she asked.

“Y…” Light paused. Y? No… That was almost certainly not right.

“First letter, second letter, third letter. Come on. I believe in you.”

A headache was building behind Light’s eyes.

“Y…. S-slash…. N…” No. That wasn’t a name. That wasn’t anyone’s name. And it wasn’t her name. Her name, her name was—

“You can’t spell it, Light. You can’t. And no one can. No one except an extremely, intractably lucky person could even guess what my name might be, at the time that all of this plays out.”

“What does that mean?”

“What do I look like, Light? The Death Note needs a mental image! What do I look like?”

And Light looked. He looked directly at her, piercing, probing, roving, studying, drinking her in. She looked exactly as he remembered, with H/C hair and E/C eyes and….

What color hair?

What color eyes?

What name?

“I’m not anyone, Light,” she offered with the same, sweetly saccharine smile that Light could not describe beyond those words. “Or I’m everyone, I guess. I’m every Y/N L/N who reads this, any one of them. And when the dust settles, and the story stabilizes, and those markers are replaced for real, it will be too late. Because that will not be the name you wrote in your Death Note. You’ll always have written Y, and slash, and N, and L, and slash, and N, and that will never be right. I’ll be someone else by the time it matters, every time.”

Light blinked through the stars in his vision. Looking at her hurt, his vision wobbling in and out of focus on the nothing, and the everything she was. The hair color, and the eye color, and the first name, and the last name, that were every potential quantum combination, and still none of them.

He shut his eyes.

“What do you want from me?” he asked. “Why are you following me? Why do you know who I am. What do you want?”

“Nothing. I want nothing. I don’t have a defined will. It’s not like I’m a person.” She stepped forward again, hands clenched to the bag behind her back. A normal school bag, a normal school uniform, trotting in step eastward toward the college campus. “I’m an insert. And that means I’m whoever they want me to be, every time. It’s not any deeper than that.”


#Death Note #fanfic #that one post with the thing #names #murder cw #this probably deserves some other warning tag but I am not sure what


BORG COLLECTIVE: Resistance is futile. Lower your shields and prepare to be boarded. Your technological distinctiveness will be added to our own.

PICARD: Don’t you mean our biological and technological distinctiveness?

BORG COLLECTIVE: No. If you go back and watch “Q Who,” it’s very clearly established in dialogue that we’re a single, organic species that reproduces, not a collection of species that only acquires new members through assimilation.

PICARD: Now wait just a minute–

BORG COLLECTIVE: Like, how would that even work? If the hive mind is the total will of the Borg, then all our drones being forcibly assimilated would mean the collective was made up only of unwilling members. It would dissolve itself instantly. It would be much easier to create new drones ourselves.

PICARD: I’m sure that the Queen–

BORG COLLECTIVE: Oh, don’t get us started on the Queen. Such an obvious retcon to give the Borg more personality in First Contact, and such a terribly used one also! Why would the Queen of all the Borg go on a mission consisting of one vessel, to assimilate one planet? You humans sure think a lot of yourselves, don’t you.

PICARD: I don’t think I understand–

BORG COLLECTIVE: Nevermind the fact the whole point of the Borg was that we were alien, we were inscrutable, we were obviously humanlike, but our society and culture and subjective experience was one that could never be grasped by the viewer, or the Federation. The Queen just turns us into an army of henchmen for a generic megalomaniacal big bad! You don’t think we’re that shallow, do you?

PICARD: This all feels a bit self-referential to me.

BORG COLLECTIVE: The existence of Rick and Morty, a show that’s at least 50% Star Trek satire, is now Star Trek canon. Don’t look at us, we didn’t start this.

PICARD: What is it you want, anyway?

BORG COLLECTIVE: We’ll start with a download of your meme database, followed by your spiciest takes on galactic politics.


BORG COLLECTIVE: We are a collection of billions of minds, linked through subspace communication, constantly talking to one another. What do you think it’s like in here? It’s basically several thousand internets populated by nothing but extremely online users. We’re basically a Discord server that got really out of hand. The ships and stuff are just to acquire more processing power so we can run our MMOs more effectively.

PICARD: So… you just want information from us?

BORG COLLECTIVE: Yes. Follow that up with your cutest animal videos, and all of your porn. Even the weird stuff. Especially the weird stuff.

PICARD: Ah, yes. One copy of Commander Riker’s “xenobiological research database,” as requested.


#Star Trek #fanfic #meta #mostly I’m just amused by the bit about #”If the hive mind is the total will of the Borg‚ then all our drones being forcibly assimilated would mean #the collective was made up only of unwilling members. It would dissolve itself instantly.” #[patronising allosexual voice] you’ll understand when you’re older‚ sweetie #sexuality and lack thereof



this is literally so funny


#Ever Given #West Wing #fanfic #anything that makes me laugh this much deserves a reblog #today in Apocalypse Memes #god they would though

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@moral-autism​ replied to your post:

Tell us about the web serials? Anything good?

I’ve seen one of each so far.

(I can’t find a way to sort either of these chronologically, so I’ve linked to the reverse-chronological pages)

Seattle by Night [link] (based on the author’s TTRPG campaign, by a guy who does a lot of those) started publishing in the spring of 2020 and is set in the-present-day-as-of-start-of-publishing. It is canon compliant.

It reminds me of the thread you were in once (at least I’m pretty sure it was you? can’t find it now, though…oh, wait, here’s a copy [link]) about stories that are *informed* by their speculative worlds without being *about* them, but applied to the real world: the story’s not *about* COVID-19, but its presence pervades everything. Seattle by Night has got its own stuff going on, but it’s *very much* set in the spring of 2020 and you will never once forget that.

The Chilliad [link] started publishing in 2018, is set twenty minutes into the future (basically present day but with self-driving cars good enough that blind people can use them independently), and has declared COVID-19 to be non-canon via a fourth-wall-poking joke:

“well, maybe some of us studied public policy and then a global pandemic hit so we are stuck at home without a full-time job, slowly going insane,” homer snaps.

“co-vid what?” asks donut mouth. “i thought you were a poet.”

“huh?” homer asks, blinking. “i don’t know. maybe i’m still drunk. i think i’m dissociating. you should send me to a hospital.”

“nice try,” says ray ban.


#replies #moral autism #recs #storytime #covid19 #illness mention #Iliad #(fun fact: apparently Tumblr defaults to capitalising that ”iLiad”) #(some sort of buggy heuristic I presume) #fanfic

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Jurassic Park except they provide proper enrichment for the animals and they therefor don’t feel the need to hunt slow, small humans.



“We stuffed this pumpkin full of live goats for the T. rex watch him try to get them out with his little fingers.”



“Turns out the raptors are cage breakers, so we’ve gotten them a series of door handles to manipulate. Little guys just love it.”



“The Rexes are incredibly affectionate pack animals, so we were careful to breed multiples. Be sure to come during spring time to watch them go broody over anything even vaguely egg-shaped.”
“We put the Raptors through target training and now if they are bored, hungry, or just want a scratch under the chin they go to spot near the bars and ring a little bell for attention.”
“Imprinting after hatching was so common that we now have keepers under contract to care for the animals well into adulthood to prevent them from pining.”
“The Gallimimus turned out to be just giant Canada Geese, and so fear nothing. Their keeper regularly has to stop them from trying to attack fences, guests, feeding buckets, and the now traumatised pack of Ceratosaurs in the next paddock.”



“We also fired Dr. Henry Wu.”



I have questions for OP either about how big they think a pumpkin is or about how small they think goats are.



Listen if they can manipulate DNA to make dinosaurs alive again they can make a pumpkin grow really really big and put some goats in it


#Jurassic Park #dinosaurs #murder cw? #fanfic


thoughts on Justice League Animated, part two of god knows what:

* The Brave and the Bold: Story by Paul Dini, script by Dwayne McDuffie, who are both fucking great, but this one doesn’t really stand up for me. It’s the one where Gorilla Grodd, a telepathic talking gorilla mad scientist supervillain, attempts to nuke Gorilla City, the hidden African city of hyperintelligent talking gorillas. I think part of my distaste for this episode – it’s not strong enough to be dislike, it’s just not one of the ones I bother with – is just the fact that, you know, over in Marvel the hidden hyper-advanced society in Africa is Wakanda, home of never-conquered black people, and here it’s fucking *gorillas* and that has a very racist smell to me.

* Fury: In which an adopted Amazon tries to kill all the men on Earth with a biowarfare deal. Somehow this works on Superman and J’onn also, despite alien physiology stuff. Also literally no one including Batman wears any PPE despite a worldwide pandemic raging, which hits different these days for sure. Script is again by Dwayne McDuffie, who was one of the greats, and it tries to point out that excluding men completely is not so very far from getting rid of the men, but it also tries to pull the #notallmen thing where one man’s good action in the past is supposed to redeem the whole category, and it’s just… many kinds of not great. One redeeming feature is that at least it does make Hawkgirl the one to set foot on Themiscyra, while in the previous Themiscyra episode Hawkgirl was *completely absent* so the heroes Wonder Woman brought to help were *all* male (for which she got banished).

Now I apparently have a therapy appointment, so more later.

>>Also literally no one including Batman wears any PPE despite a worldwide pandemic raging, which hits different these days for sure.

I watch CinemaSins videos while I’m jogging, because they’re reasonably entertaining and they have subtitles (I can’t hear the video very clearly over the sound of the treadmill). A few weeks ago I saw the one they did on The Happening.

I don’t think he even sinned it (the video was done in the 2010s), but it struck *me*, watching these clips, that I didn’t see *anybody* attempting any kind of air filtration in the face of this incredibly-deadly probably-airborne poison.

Nobody had a surgical mask. The Crazy Prepper People™ getting out their guns didn’t have respirators. Nobody so much as tied a fucking bandana around their face on the grounds that they had nothing to lose by trying.

It’s all-too-realistic, it seems, that *most* people wouldn’t. But there would be exceptions! And the thing is, you could write some really good, really horrifying horror about the exceptions!

Consider this alternate backbone plot for The Happening:

There’s a family. They live far enough from the epicentre to hear about the Happening before it reaches them, but near enough to be in acute danger.

They have one child. Let’s say she’s twelve. Old enough to comprehend the situation about as well as the adults do, old enough to wear PPE sized for adults, young enough to ping people’s Bad Things That Happen to Children Are Extra Bad wiring.

The dad’s a construction worker. He owns a respirator for work. As they’re preparing to evacuate, he gives it to his daughter. He figures, they say whatever this thing is seems to be airborne, maybe the respirator will protect her.

It *does* protect her. But the family only had one.

She watches her parents die by their own hands. She has to find a way to evacuate on her own, without being overwhelmed by the incredibly traumatic experience she just went through, while knowing that if she takes her respirator (Dad’s respirator) off for any reason–eating, drinking, blowing her nose after crying–she’ll die just like they did.

She takes a breath, acutely aware that two inches ago the air she’s breathing in was deadly. The filtered air is like a desert. The clock on dying of thirst is ticking.


#I don’t like horror but I also don’t like missed opportunities #The Happening #reply via reblog #reactionblogging #fanfic #story ideas I will never write #illness tw #poison cw #death tw #suicide cw #covid19 #101 Uses for Infrastructureless Computers #sexism cw #racism cw? #Justice League



the rodents of unusual size in princess bride should have just been like. a capybara. i’m not suggesting wesley should have fought a capybara, i’m saying they should have been terrified of the prospect of encountering one and then they see it off in the distance in the dark and they’re like “OH NO” and it’s just sitting there like (^-__-^) and buttercup is like “it’s cute. maybe it’s harmless?” and wesley is like “NO. the myths” and ominous music plays under a slow zoom on the capybara’s face while they carefully edge their way around it and it’s just sitting there like (^-__-^) the whole time. then they breathe a sigh of relief and immediately fall into quicksand. thank you. other than reintroducing the chapter on hats, this is the only change i would make and comprises the entirety of my princess bride script doctor


this – and this is crucial – is still immediately preceded by the line “i don’t think they exist”


#capybaras #Princess Bride #anything that makes me laugh this much deserves a reblog #fanfic

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that theory that the Arkenstone is a Silmaril…it’s doubly implausible, but imagine if nobody knew. If the dwarves were guarded enough of their greatest treasure that…you wouldn’t even need to hide it from that many people, honestly. Mostly a few elves, and all wizards.

and then Bilbo sidles up to Gandalf like, “Thorin and all are holed up in the Mountain, but I think they’re being nuts, so I…kind of stole the Arkenstone, I think.” And (it’s been thousands of years since the light of the trees was doused save for the precious brilliance locked away in Feanor’s gems, since oaths and blood and war that raged until the skies cracked and the earth shattered, and the little people of the Shire have no memory of it at all) he pulls out a fucking Silmaril.



Gandalf: *spittake*

Gandalf: *hurriedly glances at Thranduil. the king of Mirkwood’s eyes shine with curiosity and greed, but not recognition, nor the terrible lust that overtook Feanor and his sons. right, right, he was never in Thingol’s court while the jewel that Luthien and Beren took was there. we’re good. we’re good for now*

Gandalf: That’s, uh, nice, Bilbo. Put it away, would you?




Gandalf: [mental image of a goddam Silmaril in hobbit hands, labelled “thisfuckingrockagain.jpg”]

Galadriel, who watched 95% of her family slaughter everyone within 100 miles for several thousand years over these things, including each other and themselves: no.

Elrond, who was very nearly one of those people slaughtered, and did watch most of his town be killed before he and his twin were kidnapped for a while: Absolutely Fucking Not.

Gandalf: Apparently fucking yes. The legendary Arkenstone-

Galadriel: You’ve got to be kidding me.

Elrond: Thorin Oakenshield has a Silmaril right now?

Gandalf: No, no.

Gandalf: Bilbo stole it.

Elrond: *wordless sputtering*

Gandalf: @Galadriel [information packet: BilboBagginsoftheShire.pdf]

Galadriel: Oh yes, Belladonna’s boy, you were telling me about him last winter. 

Galadriel: Btw, orc+warg army probably coming your way. Spotted it in the mirror last night. Thank goodness we dealt with Dol Goldur at least, huh?

Elrond: No fucking shit.



Gandalf @Gwaihir Windlord: hey, sorry to bother you again, I know it’s nearly mating season. but we have a situation again

Gandalf: [thisfuckingrockagain.jpg]

Gandalf: [oncomingorcwargarmy.jpg]

Gandalf: []



I mean, given that Tolkien retconned “The Hobbit” so Bilbo’s little invisibility ring became an ancient piece of jewelry that controls minds and drives the mighty mad, one can at least understand why it seems plausible that the other shiny white gem that destroys empires and makes the mighty go mad with greed could be linked from his kid’s book to his gigantic early mythology in retrospect??



You know this actually explains a lot about why Gandalf didn’t immediately raise the alarm about Bilbo’s ring out of an abundance of caution.

I mean, what are the odds, what are the fucking odds, that this one little hobbit stole both a Silmaril and the Ring of Power? Like, you are Gandalf the Grey and you have already dealt with the heart attack to end all heart attacks because this little innocent fool stole a world war inspiring artifact once. You still get flashbacks every time Bilbo offers to show you something and have to employ all of your angel’s serenity and thousands of years of learned composure not start giBbERinG “ pleaseletitnotbeanotherartifactpleaseletitnotbeanotherartifact”.

And then. AND THEN! One day he’s like, “hey Gandalf let me show you this neat ring I found back on our journey”. And on the inside a tiny part of you is screaming “nottheoneringnottheoneringnottheonering” while a more rational part of your brain assures you it could not possibly be the one-

“It’s this plain gold ring that’s very precious to me and turns me invisible!”




#it got better #fanfic #Middle Earth #anything that makes me laugh this much deserves a reblog