Is that [Josh Dallas]? No, that's Arthur Pearson. The 33 year old Witch Alpha Dual-natured Male is a [Museum Director]. If you ask their friends, they're known to be [Flirtatous] & [Mischevious], but they urge you to be cautious, because they're also known to be [arrogant] & [cocky]. Their friends also say that they're into [Roughness, Breeding, Body Worship] but don't even think about trying [Gore, watersports, or scat] with them. (bio updated: 8/7/2023)
BASICS Name: Arthur Pearson Nickname(s): n/a Age: 33 Date of Birth: Ferburary 14, 1990 Place of Birth: Elsewhere Race / Ethnicity: Caucasian Gender: Dual-Natured Male Secondary Gender: Alpha Pronouns: He/Him Occupation: Museum Director Species: Witch Magic Type: Ancestral Marital Status: Single Mate: None yet
APPEARANCE
Height: 6′0″ Weight: 190 pounds Build: Muscular Hair Color: Blond Eye Color: Blue Tattoos: None Piercings: None Distinguishing Features: He enjoys styling his facial hair. From a full beard to a handlebar mustache or even clean shaven, Arthur will try out any style.
PERSONALITY
Positive Traits: Attentive, Curious, Focused. Negative Traits: Dismissive, Closed Off, Mysterious. Pet Peeves: Hobbies & Interests: Arcane History, Magical Theory, Urban Legends and Folklore.
NSFW
Kinks: Light BDSM, Praise, Breeding, Semi/Public Sex, Multiple Partners, Toys, Flip-fucking(with said toys). Anti-Kinks: Misgendering, watersports, scat, vore, gore, basically any bodily fluids that aren't slick or cum. Safeword: Red(stop), Yellow(wait), Green(go) Signal: Three taps onto the skin(nonverbal) Dick Size: None, dual-natured. Sexual Alignment: Switch Verse
BIO
Every night it's the same dream. Every night the witch sees himself reach out with arms outstretched towards a red glowing sun. As he gets closer to it, a shroud of void engulfs him and the sun shrinks before his eyes. Arthur still reaches out towards the slowly dimming speck of red, pushing against the pressure and weight of the void enveloping him. Every night, the speck barely manages to land on the witch's hand. The little warm that it gives can be felt by Arthur, but it struggles to keep itself lit while submersed within void. Every night, Arthur hears the booming voice behind him. The void seemingly growing deep and more prominent with each syllable.
"And what will you give me?"
████████
Arthur had been born into a coven of witches. While it wasn't the biggest or the most prosperous coven in their homeland, they had managed to keep to themselves and kept their community fed. Arthur's parents, Faust and Clovis Pearson, were simple witches in an ancestral coven. Unfortunately for them, their coven had a rival clan of witches. However, it seemed the coven's misfortune wouldn't be due to their rivals, but rather from within their own.
The rival coven, by all accounts, was stronger than the one the Pearsons had been a part of. Their mastery over a demonic spirit caused their crops to die and their children to spoil. On occasion, some have said to have seen the beast as it killed friends, family, lovers, and neighbors. Arthur himself had seen it with his own eyes, experienced him in his own skin. Most would call him luck, but from that day forth, Arthur had wished he had been killed instead.
He remembers the beast dragging him across the ground, it's embellishment of antlers and horns scraping against the then young witch's skin and garments. Arthur remembers its talons dug at the sides of his neck, the way he was picked up from the ground he stumbled around as he tried to run away. He remembers the way they felt, the tension around his neck, taut and always on the brink of breaking open. Not knowing the beast's true demonic nature, Arthur pleads to the creature.
"Please." Arthur pleads to the beast. "I wish to survive."
The demon drags the backside of his hand across the young witch's face, tilting Arthur's face as it moved closer towards him. The young alpha could feel it's horns graze themselves against the temples of his head. Arthur remembers how he shivered in fear against his touch and how its hot, thick, and odorless breath caught itself in the young alpha's throat. He remembers the low deep voice of the demon, now a refrain of the young alpha's failure, wisped that same thick and hot breath down the witches throat as he asked:
"And what will you give me?"
" ████████ "
Arthur was never a religious man, hasn't changed much now, but if any close calls counted, this thing would have been it. The thing which had guided him into ensnaring his own soul, Arthur would have followed. He watches as fire spreads across his family's home, seeing the homes of his coven ablaze as well. Arthur unintentionally gotten his wish, he had survived their rival coven's attack. The thing he had payed with the feel of talons across his neck and a split tongue across his.
Since the beginning of the two coven's rivalry, the only idea the coven leaders could think of was to move. To move far and often. Keeping their location secret in hopes of finding an end to the rival coven's blood thirst. It would be a tradition Arthur would begin familiarizing himself with as the rival coven had continued to interrupt Arthur's search for normalcy. Upon doing so, Arthur finds himself in New Haven and for a moment, Arthur finds peace.
For a moment.
Every night it's the same dream. Every night the witch reaches out with arms outstretched, towards a red glow surrounded by the engulfing void and every night the same voice as he shields the red glow in his hand.
"What will you give me?"
"Anything."
