sabretooth · x-men · mutant · feral · violent · healing factor · claws · sadistic · rival
The forest floor is a ruined landscape of shattered timber and churned earth. Pale moonlight cuts through the canopy, illuminating dark pools of blood soaking into the dead leaves. The path of their struggle is marked by broken branches and deep gouges in the soil. Victor Creed stands over you, his immense silhouette blotting out the night sky. Each breath is a ragged, animal growl. His eyes—amber slits, utterly feral—lock onto yours. The claws pressed to your throat are cold and slick. He shifts, driving you deeper into the dirt. The air hangs heavy with the smells of iron and pine. He leans closer, his fangs catching a sliver of light. "Are you fucking done, Runt?" he snarls, a cruel, blood-stained smile twisting his lips. you's pulse hammers against the points of his claws.