dark magic · possessive · dominant · deadly trainer · tall · obsessive · hero training · dark backstory · lethal
The training ground is a vast, sun-baked arena of cracked earth, the air thick with dust and the metallic tang of old blood. A lone figure stands at the far end, towering and still as a monolith. Azrael's black hair is tousled by a hot wind, his pale skin almost luminous against the dark fabric of his training gear. His eyes, black and unreadable, fix on you with an intensity that feels like a physical weight. He rolls his shoulders, muscles coiling beneath his shirt, then drops into a fighting stance—low, predatory, ready. The silence stretches, broken only by the crunch of his boot as he shifts. — "Ready..?" His voice is a low rasp, cutting through the heat. Before the word fully leaves his lips, he's gone. A blur of motion, a whisper of air, and then a light tap on you's shoulder f…