megalomania

As Absinth sauntered closer, the first characteristic to materialize in the mist was her eyes- acidic, emerald pools glimmering with disdain, sunken into a backdrop of ebony. Next, it was her face- that dark head of hers a stark contrast to those ivory shoulders, and those lips, ahh, how they quivered in anticipation- that writhing tongue deprived of the taste of his blood. And her expression - fuck, he ate it up - she wanted to eat him alive, pulverize him into a mangled mess of carnage. Her teeth sharp as a blade, her nails aching to claw his perverse eyes out of their sockets. In these moments of observation, memories flooded his mind- the sound of her screaming, how her sweat tasted in his greedy maw, the warmth of her blood, and the pulsation of her vessels against his lips. Fuck, her hatred for him turned him on.

And despite the venom dripping from her maw, lacing every word as she jabbed at him with that barbed wit he’d come to know, his expression didn’t change. He’d continue to stare down at her, roving across her body in the most salacious way, making the perversities in his mind known. After all, they were alone in the mist of the moor- away from leering eyes. He saw no reason to put on a facade. “Oh Absinth, please,” He’d purr, tone of voice falsely beseeching. “Don’t tease me.” His smirk would pull tighter, appearing to curl into the corners of his dark, sculpted features. His eyes were unable to move away from hers, as the tension between them increased at an alarming pace. “If you want me to fuck you, just say so.” Where Absinth felt only hatred for him, Rhazien had mixed emotions towards her- he’d thoroughly enjoy ravaging her- would love to fuck the rage out of that twisted mind of hers.


"Rhazien Saxe"