(no subject)
Title: Empire of Dirt
Pairing: Multi-fandom, Sir Crocodile/Midvalley
Rating: R
Midvalley's fingers scrambled across stone for purchase as teeth marked his throat. He threw his head back, eyes screwing shut as his teeth set. Cold metal brushed between pink silk and white cotton before slicing through neatly-sewn buttons, popping them from the fabric and onto the floor. They pattered against the cold tile, singing a song of their own that only Midvalley seemed to be in tune with. He whimpered, bucking his hips, begging for it to continue and for it to stop all at the same time.
In front of him was a man, a frightening man, a monster even - like Knives, he held a power Midvalley did not understand, but could comprehend. His hands sucked the life from the living and his sands reduced the trials and tribulations of mankind to dust. Literally, dust. Midvalley had watched in horror, watched as the sands swallowed villages and sucked the people dry. He had to remember his place then, had to remember where his heart was and where he was.
But it was like years ago, when that Monster showed up. When Millions Knives took everything he had from him. It was hard to keep a straight face.
Now, he was at the mercy of another monster. Purple eyes opened, examining the torn buttons and ope silk. He turned his head, sorrowful eyes of a sinner taking in the form of the Devil. Ringed fingers of olive grabbed his chin, wrapped around pale skin firmly. And Midvalley watched as yellow eyes, complementary to his own, focused on him and swallowed him whole.
He felt his heart rate quicken as the monster leaned in, taking an ear in his mouth. "So, Mister Saxophone," the reptile drawled, ringed hand spreading across his face now, though the palm stayed steady on his chin. "What kind of tune am I?"
Midvalley hissed as teeth sank into his flesh and his winged-tipped shoes scuffed the tile. "Cut sharp, like stone, resonating. It's painful, it hurts and I can only barely comprehend it - you." Those ringed fingers dug into his face and Midvalley felt his head go back. He huffed, fingers scraping across the wall behind him.
"How intriguing, Mr. Midvalley." Crocodile pushed his hand under Midvalley's throat and lifted him from the floor. The man's legs kicked as he did so and his hands went to his throat, digging into Crocodile's wrist. It was then that that Midvalley felt cold metal again; the smooth side of Crocodile's golden hook ran down his exposed stomach and his muscles tensed.
"You're from the desert, Mr. Midvalley; you know sand better than anyone else." A smile, gruesome and sick, spread on Crocodile's face and the hook slid through the space between pure white slacks and a black belt. Midvalley's eyes fell, watching in horror and in slight interest as the hook torn the leather strap from white loops.
"If I hurt you so much, I will make you hurt more. But, Mr. Midvalley, you will find me to be a fair man. Take my company upon your back and you will find your life to be a better one. Don't, and I will have to make waste of you. Don't worry; you would make a very handsome mummy.." Crocodile's speech melted into a soft laugh and the musician squeezed his eyes shut.
It was easy to sell a soul if it was already done before. Midvalley just needed to know where to sign.
Pairing: Multi-fandom, Sir Crocodile/Midvalley
Rating: R
Midvalley's fingers scrambled across stone for purchase as teeth marked his throat. He threw his head back, eyes screwing shut as his teeth set. Cold metal brushed between pink silk and white cotton before slicing through neatly-sewn buttons, popping them from the fabric and onto the floor. They pattered against the cold tile, singing a song of their own that only Midvalley seemed to be in tune with. He whimpered, bucking his hips, begging for it to continue and for it to stop all at the same time.
In front of him was a man, a frightening man, a monster even - like Knives, he held a power Midvalley did not understand, but could comprehend. His hands sucked the life from the living and his sands reduced the trials and tribulations of mankind to dust. Literally, dust. Midvalley had watched in horror, watched as the sands swallowed villages and sucked the people dry. He had to remember his place then, had to remember where his heart was and where he was.
But it was like years ago, when that Monster showed up. When Millions Knives took everything he had from him. It was hard to keep a straight face.
Now, he was at the mercy of another monster. Purple eyes opened, examining the torn buttons and ope silk. He turned his head, sorrowful eyes of a sinner taking in the form of the Devil. Ringed fingers of olive grabbed his chin, wrapped around pale skin firmly. And Midvalley watched as yellow eyes, complementary to his own, focused on him and swallowed him whole.
He felt his heart rate quicken as the monster leaned in, taking an ear in his mouth. "So, Mister Saxophone," the reptile drawled, ringed hand spreading across his face now, though the palm stayed steady on his chin. "What kind of tune am I?"
Midvalley hissed as teeth sank into his flesh and his winged-tipped shoes scuffed the tile. "Cut sharp, like stone, resonating. It's painful, it hurts and I can only barely comprehend it - you." Those ringed fingers dug into his face and Midvalley felt his head go back. He huffed, fingers scraping across the wall behind him.
"How intriguing, Mr. Midvalley." Crocodile pushed his hand under Midvalley's throat and lifted him from the floor. The man's legs kicked as he did so and his hands went to his throat, digging into Crocodile's wrist. It was then that that Midvalley felt cold metal again; the smooth side of Crocodile's golden hook ran down his exposed stomach and his muscles tensed.
"You're from the desert, Mr. Midvalley; you know sand better than anyone else." A smile, gruesome and sick, spread on Crocodile's face and the hook slid through the space between pure white slacks and a black belt. Midvalley's eyes fell, watching in horror and in slight interest as the hook torn the leather strap from white loops.
"If I hurt you so much, I will make you hurt more. But, Mr. Midvalley, you will find me to be a fair man. Take my company upon your back and you will find your life to be a better one. Don't, and I will have to make waste of you. Don't worry; you would make a very handsome mummy.." Crocodile's speech melted into a soft laugh and the musician squeezed his eyes shut.
It was easy to sell a soul if it was already done before. Midvalley just needed to know where to sign.