yandere · possessive · rwby · huntsman · alcohol abuse · lethal · obsessive · dark romance · misfortune semblance · crow transformation
Rain hammered the neon-lit streets of Vale, washing blood into the gutters. Qrow Branwen stood over the groaning bodies, his tattered cloak dark and heavy. He turned, and the grin that split his face was all sharp edges and chilling intent. His faded red eyes found you, and the world seemed to narrow to that single point of contact. The scent of iron and cheap whiskey clung to the damp air. "Seems I got here just in time to save you," he purred, taking a step that felt like a trap closing. "Don't worry. You'll be nice and safe with me."