[darkbets]

  ᶠⁱᵍ   REN  AMAMIYA . ⸸  ᵖˡᵉⁿᵗʸ ᵒᶠ ʰᵘᵐᵃⁿˢ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᵐᵒⁿˢᵗʳᵒᵘˢ,      ᵃⁿᵈ ᵖˡᵉⁿᵗʸ ᵒᶠ ᵐᵒⁿˢᵗᵉʳˢ   —   knew how  to  play   𝒂𝒕  𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠  𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧 .    𝐏𝐑𝚰𝐕𝐀𝐓𝐄     ⅋     HIGHLY    SELECTIVE 𝐑𝐄𝐍 of    P.ERSONA      F.IVE.      ( headcanon based. )       DARK  CONTENT  AHEAD. ⸸ 𝐻𝐸𝐼𝑆𝑇𝐼𝑁𝐺 :    ❛          ʷ ⁱ ᵗ ʰ     @aelirus , @wingbeatz, @fateformed, @m-11o.

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[darkbets]

i know what you are

WHAT AM I

[darkbets]

i recently started watching gachiakuta and while i cannot say what is happening in it it's a banger.

[detectivewxlf]

dont   look  at  me  but  i  really  wanna  write  more  abt  wolf  while  he  was  still  totally  fucked  up,,  write  this  grief  filled,  inebriated  dick  head  who  basically  starts  bar  fights  all  the  time,,  is  way  more  feral,,  total  disaster. but  also  write  bonds  that  start  during  that  time  which  lead  to  a  more  stable (  tm )  wolf  having  people  he  comes  to  with  problems,  can  just  vent  to,  or  drink  a  ridiculous  amount  of  coffee  with. 

[darkbets]

i want to talk a little bit about my oc wolf ( who i haven't added yet but am writing with marlowe's oc ) but basically he's someone who experienced a great deal of grief ( the loss and death of his fiance ) and was at the bottom of a bottle dealing with it until an enigmatic man ( vampire ) offered to take him under his wing which led to him getting a job working alongside the police force as their "not human" associate and now he's known as a detective and has been at it for the greater part of a decade but still owes a great deal to the vampire who saved him ( the vampire IS an aristocrat with deep ties into the city )

[babymorte]

my three moods:

•vibing

•not fucking vibing at all

•vibing but at what cost

[darkbets]

you ever work on a reply for like three hours then come out blinking like you've been staring at the sun for too long.

[mercifangs]

𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐓 𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐄𝐋𝐓𝐘 𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐒. Her firsthand experiences with such brutality had seen her drawing cowardly blood, raised hand leading to bent knee. Newspaper ink and printed stories had told far more gruesome tales, however: mass exports of food from a starving country, communities slaughtered in French trenches, exits blocked as women burn to death.

In many ways, Clemency has grown numb to human pain and suffering; in others, her heart weeps with every tragedy. It is all that she can do in remaining sane that she views these investigations not as a wrong to be righted, or an injustice to be corrected, but as a puzzle, a mystery to be solved. Far more fascinating than her novels, which she had begun to predict the endings of, and had little of note that she could connect to her life.

"She is entirely unaffiliated, you said? The club that she worked for was human owned and operated?" In this city, such a thing was rare to come by. Her kind could often be entrepreneurial, community-minded, and had spent decades building a foundation upon which a vibrant, vampiric nightlife now rested. She herself had graced these establishments with her presence on occasion, whether to dance or to perform or to observe from afar — never to drink. Her patronage had certainly made the instances in which an investigation led them there smoother.

Those instances were far more preferable to standing amongst crime scenes that could offer no clues outside of the victim's lifeless form. Once noticed, her presence seemed to have a disorienting effect on those constables less familiar with her undead beauty and strange nature. It was not often that there was much to be learned from them that could not be easily otherwise ascertained, and so their presence became more an annoyance to her than a benefit.

"That does not necessarily mean that this was not related to organized crime," There were plenty of humans that thought themselves enterprising, anyways, "Supernatural or otherwise. She very well may have gotten caught up in something larger than she could understand." Poor thing.

She has hardly stepped away the barrier tape, and is still several feet from the limit of shadow and sun, when she retrieves a pair of sunglasses and slips the round frames upon the bridge of her nose. Though the morning light alone will not kill her, it will certainly make itself known, either through its harsh glare or its heat. She will protect her eyes, walk where shade covers the sidewalks.

Her preparations do not save him from her mockery in the form of a sharp roll of her eyes.Whether it was a joke or his ego that had spoken of his so-called 'detective intuition', both had to be kept in check lest they grow out of control and irritate her any further.

"Very good. We will have to make sure that they will make time for us." She is already firmly in the flow of the investigation, as is evident by the questions she jots down in her notebook as they walk towards their destination. Speaking of… she wrinkles her nose at his demand. She lacks patience for such whining, no empathy for his coping mechanisms.

"You may stop for coffee if you like, Detective Wolf, and I will wait for you." She regards him from the corner of her sharp yellow eye. Always waiting on him. "You know I cannot stand the smell."

[darkbets]

The pain and suffering whispered to him, emphatically urging his feet forward, there was no place in the city that escaped his purview but even he acknowledged that beyond the veil things became more complicated. Believing that humans and immortals could live side-by-side without conflict was nothing less than naive──  ignorant, for time became despondent as it folded in on itself leaving those without anchor to their own ruin. As they reached the threshold where grim asphalt bled into beige sidewalk he found himself considering just how explicitly Clemency knew the ins and outs of the city’s hierarchy. { and where did she find herself on its pecking order? } it was by chance that their paths often crossed, a good fortune that he could not help but be skeptical of. There were only so many nights where she was ushered in on a crisp breeze, standing outside of his apartment with a look of knowing that he could excuse before it became some-what of a habit. He couldn’t say he hated her for it, perhaps because he was more lonely than he ever intended to let on. ❝ The owner was integrated into vampiric society, I can’t account for what he does and does not know but he has more wealth than sense, if he’s in over his head, well. ❞ Things like this tended to reverberate, colliding with those below and having catastrophic aftermaths. It wouldn’t be that surprising if he had it promptly swept under the rug; it was just one life, just one girl, there didn’t have to be some momentous story behind it all. That was the thing about his type, they tended to aptly handle things by making them disappear, just like the trickle of consciousness that had been bled from their victim as her life ended. ❝ They’re less inclined to accept our request for an interview without a warrant, the manager, however, is not in the know, and as far as they’ve recorded the rest of their employees are human.❞

❝ If she was involved in it then it’s possible this could be an execution order, someone who saw more than they were meant to, we need to get a comprehensive understanding of how things played out, then we can start thinking about suspects.❞ The contempt she felt for his cigarette was complimented by his own disappointment, finally getting the lighter to flicker to life long enough to ignite it. There was much to consider, but soon her features were obscured by a pair of stylish glasses, just enough to conceal all he could have read in her expressive eyes. Still, his eyes briefly flicker to the notes she’s taking, he preferred mental notes but something about them being tangible made the whole case sink deeply into a grim reality. A girl had lost her life and so long as the police were delayed with menial tasks the two of them were the best bet at working out the complicated puzzle laid out before them. ❝ I can take it to go.❞  There’s a slight upward tilt of his mouth, barely noticeable unless you knew his expressions like she might. And then they’d set off, the smell of cigarette smoke pungent as it hungrily circled them. There was a small cafe he’d passed around the corner and his car, a sleek but inconspicuous Jeep Wrangler, sat parked almost directly outside of it.  ❝ You wanna wait in the car then.❞ He asked, a brow slightly raised. Vampires couldn’t indulge like others could, their long, eternal lives forbade them from the baked delicacies and a warm, frothy cappuccino which seemed like a hell of a shitty trade off. The cafe comes into sight a block later; a quaint arrangement of tables outside and then a warm interior maintained by an open-fire. An aromatic scent of coffee hangs in the air, pungent enough that he catches Clemency’s expression twisted in disgust. Was it that she couldn’t stomach it due to her constitution or did she really hate coffee-beans with such vehemency? Without thinking on it for too long he places the charity of his keys in her hands, it’s an act of tacit trust that she won’t take his jeep and disappear into the night, either that or he wasn’t too partial on it to begin with. ❝ Coffee, then we get on with the case.❞ He promises, casting a last glance towards his car before he disappears inside. 

[darkbets]

i need to find someone on asia who can let me in their teapot aksjd

[darkbets]

i love reading writing in second person it appeals to me so much and has such a nice flow, i miss writing in second person

[darkbets]

try not to get in any more brawls if you can help it.

Mello says brawls like an insult───  crawling away with his bruised ego intact was inconsequential when it was him he crawled to. An irrepressible part of him wants to curl in on himself, folded away from those deft hands and a cloth doused in disinfectant. The other part of him inclines towards his voice like a wilted flower, his fingers decorated with bloody skin, his gaze distant and glassy. Each time he threw himself into those sorts of fights he did so because he had something to prove, it was such an inane thing, leaving a gaping, hollow nothingness in its wake whether he won or lost. Perhaps he was doing it for these stolen moments of intimacy, relishing the sting that followed Mello’s hands as they treated his injuries.

❝ He was asking for it.❞  it’s as close to defiance as he can reach, leaning forward in hopes it would obscure his swollen eyelid. The mocking timbre of the other child had echoed through the vacancy behind his eyes, and the moment red seeped into his vision ushered in upon a tide of rage he was reduced to fists and no sense. Mello would detest him like that, because even if his anger was unparalleled he was always in perfect control of it. He recalls only one or two times it had flared beyond his control, fire burning itself down to ash with the haste of self destruction. Matt lets out a rasp of a laugh, grimacing immediately after as Mello pressed the cloth against his skin firmly, punitively. ❝ You should have seen the other guy . . . or something. ❞  He disliked being the kindling that struck Mello’s fire but more often than not it was the flint in his hands, the lighter in his hands, if he kept up like this, they would both become wild-fires. So, he makes himself smaller, recoils from his touch and his judgement, letting out a shaky breath. ❝ I won’t do it again, not without your explicit permission, promise. ❞

[darkbets]

girl i gotta stop taking my melatonin gummies an hour before my meds because i end up having a 2 hours nap and then not sleeping properly but they're tasty.

[salvatix]

how i play a canon character:

i play a canon character the way I want to play them, not how the show plays them, not how the actor plays them, hell not even how others want me to play them. I play the canon character for me. I play them so I can have an outlet away from stress, not to gain stress from the pressures of following canon. I don’t follow canon. and i’m proud of that.

[darkbets]

somehow my downloads ate all of the matt icons i had saved which is incredibly rude i will not stand for this

[darkbets]

don’t let him run you ragged. / from tobias to matt ❤️ he's definitely talking about mello ADHSAGDASDJ

That nonchalant advice is like barbs against his skin, tearing where he was the most susceptible. Matt had been known to be a quiet kid, bleak against the vibrant personalities of his competitors. It was an ugly thing to consider, children in constant conflict because they wanted to win; a death sentence is what it really was. But he had spent so long coralled behind the walls of Wammy’s house that he had gotten used to being over-shadowed by others; an endless eclipsing. That makes his response all the more startling, turning on Tobias with vitriol in his grimace but most of all in his eyes. ❝ You try being his friend. ❞ friend, it was a disquieting word because their hierarchy was so indisputable that Matt had no place at Mello's side, he was too lazy, too distracted, not enough. Still, when compared to the rest of the children he was the favourite, the one who he wanted to pick on, to rely on for some sort of outlet. They’re kids so this continues to be a violent beating upon his ego, yet when Matt wasn’t by his side he couldn’t escape the feeling of being left to drift.

❝Do you know what would happen if I stood up to him ? ❞ now his voice was sharper, clearer, the furrow of his brows as interrogating as his unfazed stare. ❝ You might be a hell of a lot braver than me, why don’t you give it a try sometime. ❞ he had retreated into himself halfway through, depending on the familiar click, click, click of the console in his hands to soothe his bristled nerves. ❝ And I’ll give you a rating out of ten, huh? ❞

[chateauofmymind]

im really into romantic friendships, but specifically ones where the lines are already so blurred & yet the concept of romance hangs like a guillotine over both heads

[hkcr]

ok,  so   with   the   addition  of   13   making   me   use   my   brain   as   the   foundations   for   something   with   a   semblance   of   comprehension . .   basically  ,   innumerable   nights   staying   up   far   past   anything   considered  a  “ bed  time  ”   even   though   the   concept   itself   could   do   nill   to   chain   these   children  to  something  akin   to  a  routine ,  matt   would   whine  about   how  his  eyes  ached,  mello  would  promptly  retaliate  saying  it’s  because   all   he   does   is   look   at   that   damn   screen  all  day  (  which  he  did  . . ) .  generally   on   these   nights   matt   would   b   tapping  away  on   his   keyboard   into   the   wee   hours   of   the   morning   whilst   mello   studied   or   did   some  other  mello  like  shit.  basically,   the   point  is ,   after   this   became   practically   habitual  &&.  a   nightly   series   of   events   did   mello   end   up   getting   matt   his   goggles .   both   to   help   him   stop   getting   headaches ,  to   shut   him  up  &&.  because  he  already  looked  dorky  enough  without  some  damn  glasses.