▐ 𝚊 racon𝘁𝗲𝘂𝗿 destined to light life’s flame. 𝖊yes (* 𝒉̲old ) galaxies yet untold, 𝟮𝟬𝟬𝟬 t𝒉̲reads 𝑜𝑓 time 𝒘𝒆ave the 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐞.

ㅤGreetings, 2DAU! ⸻ The one in the portrait has just brought back to life. Hence, he desires to write stories together. Kindly leave a keyword alongside the preferred language (ID/EN) & proximity scale (1–3) or simply tap the repost. Many thanks.ㅤ* OC.

Perhaps this vast meadow of flowers belonged to no one; he lay upon its gentle softness, becoming one with the blossoms and the earth. The royal palace stood empty, and the silence was just right. (Repost for become mutual) !2DAU

!2DFess ㅤ／ㅤ𝒘armest greetings to all．here is a lady who own a teahouse and is also a blind fortune teller，ready to ‘see’ you through the tea leaves in your cup．feel free to reply to the prompt below，or simply repost this for a future interaction．eng/ina ok! * 🍒

tightens slightly. “But if you truly want these…” His gaze darkens, pupils swallowing the faint red light. “At the very least, ask properly. Begging would be even better.” His tone is firm. Just dangerous enough to remind you that he is not the one to test tonight. | @lmmor_al.

someone else? He exhales through his nose, patience thinning. His hand releases the corpse. Then, in a swift movement, he grabs you by the collar and pulls you closer. “I don’t know who you are,” he says quietly, voice low and razor-sharp, “or where you came from.” His grip

Terima kasih, tuan Besar. Walau telat, saya menyukainya. Tuan Besar boleh jadikan saya babu selama sehari.

ㅤ*ㅤDearest @neutrauI, @Fumataso, @GAMMAZlNG, @jejaksaujana, @arcounteur. Selamat hari kasih sayang. Semoga suka. ⸺ WILLARD, Erickson.

2DAU! greetings there, lads. with a fresh W—OC here, working as a private investigator through some days and night. now why don't you leave some IC in the replies—— or simply retweet for a follow. don't mind me being nosey though ... it's kinda part of the job, you know?

And once his task is finished — once the organs are extracted and the fire has consumed what remains — he will make sure to keep an eye on you. Quietly. Because no one interferes with his work twice. | @lmmor_al

your reach, physically placing himself between you and the body. “If you need something, find it somewhere else.” His tone is not loud. Not aggressive. Just final. Dmitri is not reckless. He will not escalate unnecessarily. But neither will he forget your face.

He can smell the alcohol clinging to you from where he stands. It explains enough. People who reek like that tend to lose control. He steps forward, steady and deliberate. “Please leave.” Without hesitation, his gloved hand grips the corpse by the shoulder and drags it away from

His eyes narrow slightly. A thief? What kind of thief steals from a dead body that doesn’t even belong to them? “Excuse me,” Dmitri says evenly, voice calm but edged with warning. “I don’t believe that belongs to you.” He does not question why you were here.

The organs will be harvested first. The bodies will be reduced to nothing but ash afterward. No evidence. No names. No trace. He pushes the cart toward the corpse—and that’s when he notices you. You are crouched too close. Doing something you should not be doing.

... to notice another presence lurking in the shadows. Not until the corpse lies abandoned on the cold concrete floor of the warehouse. | @lmmor_al.

... near the outskirts of the industrial district, where the streetlights flicker and no one asks questions. Rusted metal groans with the wind, and the silence there feels heavier than the night itself. As he unloads the body from the car, focused and methodical, he fails ...

... lifeless body across the stained floor and hauls it into the back of his car. Cleaning the room is the workers’ responsibility. His burden is only the corpse. The body is meant to be disposed of. He arrives at the location. The place is remote — an abandoned warehouse ...

... enemies or runaway prisoners. The room is a grotesque sight — overturned furniture, dark crimson splattered across the floor and walls, the metallic scent of blood clinging thickly to the air. It is horrific. And he is used to it. Without further ado, he drags the ...

... he wears more than one hat. He does whatever is required of him, even if it stains his hands beyond the title of “a private investigator.” He exhales quietly and scans the entire crime scene. This is the torture chamber his superior uses to extract information from ...

“Alright, sir. I’ll take care of the bodies.” He bows to his bos who issued the order before stepping away from the scene. As a private investigator, this is not his job. It never was. But ever since he bound his life — and death in loyalty to the first Willard, Yevhen, ...

⠀ CASE NO XXX-01 : A THIEF ... [?] TRIGGER WARNING: Violence, blood, thriller and etc. ( @arcounteur | @lmmor_al )  ⠀