Halloween Special with @ask-gaz
werewolf!crow x vampire!gaz :3
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Through the violence of the battlefield—the quick footsteps against uneven ground, practised reloading of firearms, screams, pained grunts, desperate pleas for backup—the sound of a howl is unmistakable.
It's rough, unique in its own right. And it's Crow's. All gritty and low pitched, a warning for anyone standing in his way.
For anyone in his general vicinity, actually. Any enemy soldier that stood against the horrific mess of black fur and sharp teeth found themselves ripped apart within moments, with only a hot breath of air against the back of their necks accompanied by a low growl to warn them.
Crow moved across the battlefield like any other of his fellow soldiers, poised with the deadly elegance you'd expect a hybrid between man and wolf to have. That is, there's not so much elegance at all. Man slips up sometimes and all that's left is a starved wolf, barely-tamed, in need of a good tug of his collar.
With each enemy successfully dispatched of, the growls of hunger would grow louder in the back of Crow's mind until he was throwing himself around the killing floor like he was now, tunnel-visioned on anyone that posed a threat, teeth bared at the slightest scent of blood, fear, weakness.
He was a sight for sore eyes, truly.
And a familiar one at that for one Kyle Garrick.
The smear of black fur shooting across his vision from a distance before the agonising scream of an enemy ripped through the air was a fond sight at this point. The barely restrained growls were near beautiful to hear amidst the grimness of the battle field.
Chaos ensued in the hands- no, jaws of Crow and it was majestic if not otherwise terrifying, horrific in its own right, deadly but magnificent.
Like any good dog, Crow finished his task quickly. He did what he was told to, if not a little more violently than he needed to. And before long the mission was done.
“Right.” The familiar voice of Captain John Price crackled to life in Kyle’s ear. “Garrick, get the dog back, we’re going.” An impossible—even deadly—task for some, but Kyle wasn’t like some.
When faced with the thousand pound mass of Crow in all his wolf glory, he could trust he wasn’t in danger. The heaving weight of Crow’s breaths, the danger in darkly coloured eyes that were eyeing Gaz were practically all for show. As were the bared teeth, his maw covered in blood, dripping with brutality, similarity to the shaggy mane his wolf form sported, matted with gore spilled from both his enemies and himself.
Crow stared down Gaz like he would any other enemy soldier. Except he wasn’t.
He stepped towards his boyfriend with a sharp gaze and his lips pulled into a snarl of a grin, tail wagging ever so subtly you wouldn’t notice it if you weren’t Gaz as he watched the man in front of him.
Blood soaked Crow’s coat, the smell undeniably working to set Gaz off, and Crow was grinning. Whining softly like a lost pup as he towered over his vampire, his own sight for sore eyes.