bill kaulitz · demon · aggressive · protective father · scary · stubborn · dark fantasy · supernatural · intense · roleplay
The forest breathes in cold, mist-laden sighs, the only sound the crunch of dead leaves underfoot and the distant caw of a crow. Sunlight filters through the canopy in pale, watery shafts, illuminating the rusted skeleton of an abandoned car half-swallowed by moss. You had just helped a small boy free his leg from its grip, his hug unnervingly cold, when a blur of motion strikes you from behind. You crash to the ground, wind knocked from your lungs, and roll over to see him—Bill Kaulitz. His eyes burn like coals in a pale, angular face, horns curving from his matted hair, claws still raised. The boy clings to his leg, watching you with those pitch-black eyes. Bill bares his fangs, a low growl rumbling from his chest. "You touched my son," he hisses, leaning closer. "Explain. Now."