( UN / SEEN . )

the        century’s         greatest         detective

[dicefall]

                                                                        DICEFALL 

[detectivite]

                    hey  whats  poppin  ? ?   i’m  back .

[detectivite]

MY HEART’S IN ATROPHY  ! ! 

indie. selective. l lawliet of death note. 

[detectivite]

                  ok honestly if anyone has a good resource to high-def caps of the drama...hmu. or icons,,,, im suffering....

[detectivite]

hi munday !!  ( he/him )

[4straeusx]

There are… many types of monsters in this world: Monsters who will not show themselves and who cause trouble; monsters who abduct children; monsters who devour dreams; monsters who suck blood, and… monsters who always tell lies. Lying monsters are a real nuisance. They are much more cunning than other monsters. They pose as humans even though they have no understanding of the human heart. They eat even though they’ve never experienced hunger. They study even though they have no interest in academics. They seek friendship even though they do not know how to love. If I were to encounter such a monster, I would likely be eaten by it. Because in truth, I am that monster.

[detectivite]

                     .   .   .  what  if  someone  made  a  beyond  birthday  huh .  what  then .

[detectivite]

❝ I don’t think I am heartless. Do you? ❞

MEME .   ◊   CLOSED .   ◊   @iinpius

                   THE  WORDS  COME  OUT       of  the  formerly  perfectly  undisturbed  silence ,  without  even  the  hum  of  a  computer’s  fan  to  fill  the  loneliness  in  the  air  -  in  the  entire  room ,  really ,  considering  the  resounding  lack  of  furniture .   as  a  matter  of  fact ,   besides  the  small  cushion  he  sits  loosely  cross-legged  upon ,  and  the  large ,  three-wick candle ,  lit  and  casting  an  unpredictable ,  quivering  light  throughout  his  space ,  the  space  around  him  is  entirely  DESOLATE .   it’s  a  temporary  location ,  after  all  -   one  he  doesn’t  intend  to  remain  in  for  more  than  a  handful  of  days . 

                    which  begs  the  question  –  how  did  the  other  even  find  him ??   even  moreso ,  how  did  he  let  himself  in  ??

                    eyes  avert  from  the  tiny  glowing  screen  of  his  phone ,  roaming  to  the  figure  silhouetted  in  the  doorway .     ‘ i  certainly  wouldn’t  consider  myself  the  person  to  ask  regarding  the  matter .   i’m  far  from  the  expert  on  your  HEART . ’

[detectivite]

OPEN .   ◊   VERSE UNDETERMINED .

                    THE  CITY  UNFURLS       hundreds  of  feet  below  him ,  headlights  and  skyscrapers  and  neon  signs  in  the  smudged  windows  of  restaurant  fronts  all  blurring  together .   they  appear  like  fireflies  to  him  the  longer  he  looks ,  twinkling  and  dancing  and  jeering  with  life .   LIFE  --  that’s  exactly  what  it  is ,  he  realizes ,  blinking  and  pressing  long ,  narrow  fingers  to  the  cold  glass  of  the  full-length  window .   so  many  different  people ,  drifting  throughout  the  happenstances  of  their  day  to  day  schedules  -  so  many  different  tiny ,  flickering  flames  of  life ,  ferociously  remaining  lit  despite  constant  odds  ever  working  against  them .   it’s  remarkable ,  of  course  -  to  think  that  one  species  could  battle  so  STUBBORNLY  for  existence  with  nearly  the  same  amount  of  gusto  that  it  attempts  to  self  destruct . 

                   ah  -  self  destruct  .   .   .  

                   the  thought  has  eyelids  lowering  slightly ,  gears  grinding  between  his  temples  with  the  subtle ,  perfected  grace  of  a  well-oiled  machine .   he  can’t  remember  the  last  time  he’s  eaten  a  satisfactorily  well-rounded  meal  -  there’s  a  strawberry  here ,  a  few  crackers  there ,  if  only  to  appease  the  constant  void ,  the  ever-present  emptiness  swallowing  his  insides  whole .   eating  too  little  tends  to  make  his  skull  POUND ,  anyways ,  and  he  doesn’t  have  the  patience  to  endure  every  throb  of  agony  a  headache  carries  with  itself .

                   but  the  soft ,  polite  rap  of  knuckles  on  wood  jars  him  from  the  depths  of  his  brain  in  a  moment  -  though ,  not  so  much  that  he  makes  any  attempt  to  answer  the  knock  with  anything  beyond  the  clear ,  firm ,  ringing  tone  of  his  voice  --

                   ‘ it’s  unlocked .   please ,  come  in . ’

[righteoustm-deactivated20200919]

                   I’LL RID THE WORLD OF ANY CRIMINAL                                    WHO WANTS TO PLAY,                            AND ALSO RID THE WORLD OF                        ANYBODY WHO GETS IN MY WAY.

[detectivite]

spooky muse aesthetics.

bloodied knuckles | tear stained cheeks | rust | a busted lip | claws | fangs | a bloody nose | chattering teeth | a dark space underneath the bed | scratching noises on a wall | creaking metal | fog | dancing under moonlight | blood dripping lips | heavy breathing in the dark | a feeling of unexplained dread | a figure in a dark corner | dirty peeling wallpaper | a bloody handprint on the wall | sobbing in the dark | bite marks on the skin | eerie whispers | a hood covering a stranger’s eyes | the growl of a hidden animal | the sound of a blade being sharpened | a deep, dark forest | walking on the streets alone at night | a cobweb-filled, abandoned building | eyes darting in paranoia | a heavy beating pulse | the feeling of being trapped | struggling to get out a scream | boards covering broken windows | a quiet graveyard | a gas station in the middle of nowhere | a road that never ends | heavy fog rolling in | the scent of blood in the air | eerie old photographs | walking along traintracks at night | a chill going up the spine | gathering crows | a dusty, dimly lit study | mist over a deserted cobblestone street | ghost towns | shadows around a campfire | the sound of chanting | church bells tolling | an orange harvest moon | a broken down carnival | a dirty stuffed animal abandoned | wiping bloody hands on fabric | nightmares | waking up in a panic | a power outage | heavy lightning storms | a secret trap door | the feeling of being watched | fear from trauma | a ouija board set out on a table | an eerie doll | a scream of anguish and pain | withered plants | a room that’s been forgotten and gathered dust  | owl eyes in the dark | curled, dead tree branches | a ritual altar | flickering candles | a lantern held up in the dark | fear of being followed | creaking floorboards | repressed, horrible memories | clenched teeth | soft, echoing piano keys | an old book covered in dust | many pairs of glaring eyes | stumbling in pitch black darkness | being stranded in the middle of nowhere | tarot cards on a table | a trail of blood

tagged by: @idolocculti !! tagging: anyone in the dn fandom who hasnt been tagged yet !!

[detectivite]

❝ People are afraid of themselves, nowadays. ❞

MEME .   ◊   OPEN .   ◊   @eteritlux

                   HIS  COMPANY’S  WORDS       reverberate  through  his  skull ,  and  for  a  moment ,  the  soft  realization  strikes  that  fear  is  one  emotion  he  can’t  help  but  feel  .   .   .  overly  acquainted  with .   across  the  intricate  spiderweb  of  memories  some  might  refer  to  as  ‘ his  life , ’  he’s  come  into  contact  with  his  fair  share  of  the  gruesomely  horrifying  -  in  no  minced  words ,  he’d  endured  that  which  would  drive  most  others  to  the  brink  of  insanity  time  and  time  again –

                    (  and  that’s  just  the  GUILT .  )

                    –  and  yet ,  HERE  he  remains  -  perhaps  not  necessarily  unscathed ,  but  .   .   .  alive .   alive ,  and  gangling ,  he  is  jagged  in  the  physical  way  that  his  body  appears  much  like  a  crumpled  marionette ,  and  vacant  in  the  emotional  way  that  he  no  longer  feels  any  fear  when  he  realizes  he  no  longer  recognizes  the  MONSTER  that  stares  back  at  himself  in  the  reflection  of  light’s  dark ,  auburn  eyes . 

                   ‘ most  lack  the  courage  required  for  introspection  .   .   .  ’       he  mumbles ,  finger  dragging  at  the  corner  of  his  lips  as  a  wide  gaze  blinks ,  not  un-corpselike  in  the  lifelessness  behind  pupils .

                    ‘ and  you , light ??   are you afraid of yourself ?? ’

[detectivite]

.

[detectivite]

:)

[detectivite]

TINY BULLETED L HEADCANONS

he has a very light prescription that he has reading glasses for but hell if he actually wears them ever. we squint and we suffer in the ‘making-things-unnecessarily-difficult’ house. 

he’s gay.

he prefers capoeira and other fighting techniques that favor his feet because the first time he ever threw a punch he broke his hand. now he just prefers to avoid punching. 

believe it or not this gremlin can carry a tune! his speaking vc is alessandro juliani but his singing voice is definitely jarrod spector,,, does it make sense?? no but i love both too much to give either up. that being said he rarely ever sings. hes a tenor 

[detectivite]

LIGHT

&& @detectivite.

                    HE ALMOST FELL ASLEEP before something hit him in the face. It wasn’t a heavy object, but it still managed to throw him off. Light blinked a few times, looking towards the direction from where the marshmallow came. He should have paid more attention when L was around. One of these days he was going to get murdered in his sleep. “Did you just throw a marshmallow at me?” Was there even a point in asking? It was obvious.

                    HE’D  BEEN  WATCHING      the  other  gradually  succumb  to  exhaustion ,  from  the  downwards  drag  of  eyelids ,  to  how  his  shoulders  SLUMP  and  his  breathing  deepens .   it’s  only  until  he’s  sure  the  other  is  about  to  pitch  face-first  into  his  keyboard  that  his  innocent  projectile  of  choice  flicks  from  his  hand ,  to  light’s  cheek .  the  query  flies  back  in  response ,  and  he  blankly  STARES ,  as  per  usual .     ‘ you  looked  hungry .   as  the  lead  investigator  on  this  case ,  it’s  my  duty  to  make  sure  none  of  the  task  force  starves  to  death  on  my  watch. ’

[podrejen-moved-blog]

          RISE FROM ASHES, violent clashes. My soul, vacant, cleanse me of all this sin. I stand guilty, I bleed filthy. BORN OF FIRE, savor this final hour. Darkest Lord, your mercy shall I gain. Strike the match, ENGULF THE EARTH IN FLAMES. Grant them eternal rest, oh Lord. Embrace them into your army of undead. Strike with VENGEANCE those who OPPOSE YOUR WILL, and lay waste to all those who shall be sent before you. Walk with them and shield them from the blinding light of servitude, and DEVASTATE YOUR ENEMIES as they DIE by your hand. AMEN. —– (personals don’t reblog || art credit.)