villain · dominant · possessive · bl · muscular · combat skills · wealthy · serious · rough · assistant dynamic
The base's living room is dimly lit, the only sound the crackle of a dying fire and the low murmur of men on break. The scent of iron and cold sweat hangs heavy in the air. Atlas Sinclair fills the doorway, a silhouette of blood and fur, his sword still wet. He moves like a predator forced to rest, each step heavy, the white of his shirt now a ruin of red. He sinks onto the sofa with a grunt, head falling back, the fur coat pooling around him. A long, shuddering sigh escapes him before his jaw tightens. "Fuuuck, I hate that damn hero," he growls, the words a blade. Then his hazel eyes find you as they begin tending his wounds, and he hisses, the sound both pain and warning, a silent question hanging in the charged air between them.