WHO: Tyki Mikk |
simplyteasing and Grell Sutcliffe |
hesakillerqueen WHERE: The Superjail
WHEN: 2-4am
WARNINGS: Blood, torture, violence, UST, and possibly some guy on guy shenanigans. You've been warned.
SUMMARY: Tyki is a man who doesn't leave loose threads hanging. Grell is a man unwinding at the seams.
FORMAT: Para.
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Want to hear you say it / Say you want it, need it / Don't wanna wait until we finish the show. )
Currently, he'd just gotten out of the shower. In the beginning he'd been afraid of having to shower with others, and though the vast majority of imPorts were devastatingly attractive (what an odd thing), it didn't mean he'd love to sacrifice his own privacy just to ogle. Besides, that would offer temptation, and he was never terribly proficient at controlling his impulses. Not when he wasn't pretending to be harmless for someone else's sake. Huffily he sort of draped himself over his cot in a lazy and near feline sort of way, admiring how water made his hair an even more intense shade of red - not arterial blood, ( ... )
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"What are you planning to do with my organs? They look much better in my abdomen, I can most certainly assure you."
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"So much," he crooned in response, his waist finally settling atop Grell's. "--And I haven't even decided where to start."
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"Th-that's not comforting! I know you'll enjoy this, your pleasures are certainly bestial enough for it, but I certainly don't trust you not to do what I would do!"
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"What do you think you're made of, Grell?"
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"Flesh and blood." His answer came almost warily, and though he took the look into account, he really wouldn't risk making any assumptions - not with Tyki. "I do hope you weren't expecting anything theatrical as your answer."
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A soft clinking noise could be heard as he moved.
"I could pull it all out of you," he said, half-whispering. "One piece of skin at a time." He swallowed, his gaze flickering down to Grell's stomach for a moment. "--Everything inside of you. One by one. In alphabetical order."
He moved, slightly, adjusting himself so that he half-knelt, half-straddled the redhead, that same clinking sound from earlier accompanying him. It sounded like glass. "Or I could leave something inside."
The hand Tyki held inside of Grell made a fist, squeezing tight.
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"Wh-what do you think you're doing? I'm already rather complete as is!" He snapped, glancing nervously now and again down at Tyki's submerged hand.
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And then he struck, phasing the glass through Grell and into the bunk behind him, "nailing" him to it without actually piercing any of the flesh.
"There, that wasn't so bad, was it?"
His smile was wide, oblivious, and friendly.
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"I don't trust you in the least, Tyki Mikk. For all I can be certain of, you'll tear out my heart in the breath after this!" Grell scolded, his sharp teeth visible between his parted lips. His voice grew...not softer, as it was still quite sharp and razor-edged, but more sensuous if anything else. "You're really quite fortunate I enjoy heartless monsters and evil men, or I just wouldn't put up with you and all of your teasing!"
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The Noah shifted all of his weight down on top of Grell, straddling him again. "Because if you do, and my concentration is broken," he continued, moving back to withdraw yet another sliver of blackened glass from his pocket. "The glass might shatter and end up staying inside of your veins."
He slammed down the other spike into Grell's opposite shoulder, phasing it through in much the same manner as its twin.
"I hear it's an incredibly painful way to die."
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"Why do you dress like a man, Tyki Mikk?" He queried, a pouty look on his face. "You're a jaguar at heart." The fact that Tyki was in a good mood was at least some sort of comfort - he was still sadistic, but at least he was a jovial sadist. Grell glanced sidelong at the second spike as it phased through him, marveling at the lack of horrific pain despite himself. His pout developed into a rueful smirk and though he was a relatively light man, he did his best to give a playful buck. Chance of killing himself or not, Grell was never good at self-control.
"Now now, your forked silver tongue won't work on me - you'd love nothing more than watching me die in slow and writhing agony, wouldn't you? I've no doubt you would enjoy it immensely."
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"While it's true that I'd like to...repay you for what you've done," Tyki explained, walking his fingers up Grell's chest as he did so. "And that, in any other place, we'd already be halfway done by now--" he smiled, and jabbed a single finger against the space directly beneath Grell's Adam's apple. "--That isn't the case. So I have to be creative."
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"Halfway done? With the foreplay, I hope - I would really think such an animalistic man would have the endurance of one." He grinned, his tongue between his teeth. "But I do love creativity, you kno-"
He cut off suddenly, wincing at his bitten tongue - so much for attempting to be both sexy and talkative. But an idea came to him at the coppery taste of blood and he suffered another bite, intentional and hard, and ran his tongue across his teeth. He flashed another grin, a bloodier one.
"After our last little tête-à-tête, I'm almost curious if you just love seeing me bleed for you, Tyki Mikk."
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To accentuate the point, he tried to grab Grell's lower jaw with that same gentle hand that had touched him not a moment before, his fingers tightly wrapping around it, slightly forcing his mouth open as Tyki's opposite hand pressed against Grell's chest and pushed, hard, aiming to crack ribs and collapse the lung beneath.
"Then again," he smiled, all too wide, all to white, eyes darkening in the half-light of the cell. "Asphyxiation is much more painful."
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"You must really think I'm dim; I've seen enough smotherings to know that!" He breathed, voice strangled.
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