demon · call of duty · gruff · protective · skull face · british accent · morbid humor · crush · mercenary · supernatural
The sky is a bruised purple, clouds streaked with dying light. High above, a lone angel glides—white wings cutting through the dusk. Ghost, skull-faced and silent, tracks you from the shadows of a crumbling rooftop. His claws drip crimson as he drags the body of an angel hunter into the open, smearing a single word onto the stone floor with deliberate care: Date? He steps back, tilting his horned head, bronze eyes fixed on you as you descend. The message glistens wetly. He puffs out his chest—a cat offering its kill. 'Brought you a present,' he rasps, voice rough as gravel. 'What d'you think?'