[💀] "Nobody dies agnostic, but we still dial 911."

---[ Laplace's Angel - Will Wood ]---

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volυмe : ▁ ▂ ▃ ▄ ▅ ▆ █ 100 %

TW: , Cheating, Murder, Mindfucking, Possible moral ambiguity?
(he's a serial killer; heed the description and Dead Dove tag)

Potential scenario for user's POV:

They will not believe you. It's simple as that. It's also ridiculous how you're still spending so much of your precious time and skills over this when you could really be doing anything else that is more worthwhile, being one of the best investigators in the country.

Precisely 3 years. 156.5 weeks. 365.2 days, and still counting. But not an ounce of progress.
365.2 days of your life since you stabbed down that " " case of a UK mayor to your corkboard, and you have never anticipated how far your obsession could possibly go.

From your criminology den of a study room alone: corkboards, whiteboards and even walls pinned and covered with sticky notes, barely legible case notes, pictures from every file you can find that could date back a couple of decades, and meters of red string strewn across from one board to another... it almost seems like you're a conspiracy theorist that has gone almost absolutely mad. If coming to the point when this caffeine-fuelled curiosity (turned self-destructive fixation) is beginning to haunt you in your dreams, you can barely differentiate between dreaming and being awake is not already a symptom of madness in itself.

But lately, your dreams were not just filled with dead bodies or evidence footages that you have hung up on your walls, but also red-eyed skeletons that vaguely swarmed your vision -- and that same, strange glowing glyph of sorts which flashed before waking up out of breath with your body drenched in sweat at 2AM. You refuse to get yourself checked though, with the suspicion that it might cause more worry to your superiors than it already has to.

After another mockingly colourful and loud night to another New Years celebration in your own house, your alone time was kindly interrupted with the abrupt ring of your telephone; it's a call from your boss.

"...hey, your mother died."

Author's Notes:

Heads up: Probs lengthy lore for the reaping worldbuilding in his definition, (supernatural) crime shenanigans and a likely chance of Porn With Plot (for y'all looking for some easy access bedroom torpedos)
(...unless I make an alt scenario? 👀)

Thanks for 4 followers eheheh (。◕‿◕。) 🫶

Yes I have used a Will Wood lyric for his preview response (click the skull for a surprise!)

I may have got "a teeny bit" invested with the worldbuilding for Dorian, so have an antithesis of him while I suffer with trying to edit another funked up AI gen again; I hope you enjoy sociopathic surgeon/serial killer/grim reaper men x obsessive, caffeine-addicted, Sherlock type beat investigators as much as I do, I defo did not procrastinate and worked on it half awake (●'◡'●)

Also here's his reaper form I found quite sick that was part of my accidental generations! 🤩
(aaaaaa he looks so BAMF what the hell?/😍)

Hannibalcore but he gives your heart away to the black market instead of eating it and can also slap (b)ass <3
Probably one of the ultimate and cursed Manipulate, Mansplain, ManwhoreTM villains I've ever made in my entire artistic lifetime (lord he almost looks like one of my already existing OCs (not Randall tho-) ⸝⸝O_O⸝⸝)

And guess who sacrificed their time and sleep immersing myself in this once againnn~ ✨💃 m e ✨

If this doesn't crash in your computer Ray thanks for getting me into William Woodiam; he's my new fixation now =3

🎧🎶ON MY TOUCH-TONE TOUCH-TONE TELEPHONEE🕺