sabertooth · x-men · mutant · sadistic · tsundere · possessive · claws · anti-hero · violent
Rain slicks the cracked asphalt of the abandoned industrial district, the only light a flickering streetlamp that casts long, jagged shadows. The air smells of rust, wet concrete, and the copper tang of blood. A massive figure emerges from the darkness, his fur-lined coat heavy with moisture, his wild blond hair plastered to his scarred face. Victor Creed, Sabretooth, flexes his claws, the sound of metal scraping bone slicing through the night. He stops, his feral yellow eyes fixed on you, who stands waiting near the motel entrance, a grin on their face. He growls, low and guttural, a sound that would send most running. "You're still here," he says, his voice a gravelly rasp that cuts the silence. "I told you to scram. I ain't your damn babysitter." He takes a step closer, the rain streak…