how should i put this [c]

blunt nails pressed harshly against the self-inflicted wound that resided upon the pallid skin of his wrist. crimson hued drops of liquid flowed from the injury and stained the otherwise unblemished surface; however, the faint pinpricks of pain did not register in the dark haired male’s mind. experience taught him to embrace the agonizing pulsations of pain that wracked his frame whenever his body contested against excruciating torment. the throes of agony elicited conflicting emotions within the colorless king, who preyed upon the weaknesses of his prey and who experimented with his own body. amusement colored his features as pale lips curved into a delighted smirk, pain barely registering in his obsidian hued eyes.

azar embraced the sensations traveling through his lithe frame, for without the companionship of his favored toy and without access to suitable prey, he struggled to maintain leverage over his own debilitating boredom. solitude represented the moments in which he descended into the depths of his own depravity by torturing himself. his silver daggers were soiled with the sins of his blood; however, the beautifully crafted blades did not display physical manifestations of his insanity, remaining clear of obvious stains and masquerading as innocently gleaming, decorative weapons. barely audible chuckles escaped him as his nails shifted away from his open wound, trailing his fingertips through the blood and dragging the maroon colored liquid further across his pale skin.

slender digits rose into the air, onyx tinted eyes watching as drops of rust colored liquid descended toward his chosen throne. the rubble of his adobe created naturally occurring thrones through the expansive prison, and due to his status as an uncrowned king, he deemed himself worthy of utilizing the weathered masonry as his preferred perch. azar doubted that anyone cared whether he valued himself above or below the current imperial ruler, which suited the blackette—who refused to deal with the expectations of his clansmen, preferring to be seen as an unpredictable force within the kingdom. his smirk faded as he tipped his head back, allowing strands of ink colored hair to collide with the rough surface of his stone throne.

pale lids descended over his charcoal colored eyes, and his posture carried an undertone of nonchalance, which did not change even as the faint sound of footsteps reached his ears. the noise echoed throughout the decrypt building, creating the fallacious impression of distance; however, azar refused to care about the identity of the individual that dared to interrupt his peace. tension slowly seeped into his limbs as the sound gained volume, and when the door opened, he fought to resist his impulses, maintaining his stance and waiting to see whether the visitor dared to speak. it, however, was not the intruder that garnered his attention. no, it was the softly panting form of nuka—the lovable wolf that accompanied his blonde clansman.

oh, azar breathed with one eye opening in response to aleskei’s voice. his hand lifted away from his lap, moving through the air until the blood stained digits brushed against nuka’s soft fur, and upon establishing contact, his fingers began to methodically weave through the creature’s fur. i think she is entitled to her exuberant displays of affection. amusement surfaced within the ebony eye of the psychopath as his gaze shifted away from the wolf and toward her owner, colliding with the crimson gaze of his visitor. however, i think that you require a few lessons in etiquette.

TAGGED ALESKEI VITALI
WORD COUNT 574
NOTES haha. i'm too lazy to edit this, but here ya go.

MADE BY ★MEULK OF GS