aviss
in
springkink
Work of Art (Kuroshitsuji, Grell/Red)
Title: Work of Art
Author: aviss
Pairing: Grell/Red
Rating: PG-13
Prompt: bloodplay - We're not so different, you and I.
Word Count: 480
Work of Art
For the first time in all his existence, Grell is seeing beauty in a living, breathing human.
She is magnificent: a goddess clad in red, hands dripping with the same colour and eyes unfocused, crimson lips curled in a grimace of either disgust or ecstasy. Probably both.
Grell stares at her while she butchers the woman, her hands ripping delicate tissue, and he makes up his mind right here and now. He wants her.
"Really beautiful work," he says allowing her to see him for the first time.
The woman startles and turns, eyes darting around and lips opening in surprise. She doesn’t try to cover what she's done and Grell likes her even more for that.
She stands, hand gripping the knife tighter, and faces Grell with insanity and determination shinning in her eyes. Grell smiles, two rows of sharp teeth showing clearly.
"Don't be silly, woman," he says playfully looking at the knife pointing at him and immediately dismissing it. "You can't harm me and I don’t want to harm you."
She stops, tilting her head and studying him, eyes sharpening as she takes in Grell's features and his own crimson hair. "Who are you?" she says, her voice still breathless with exertion and pleasure.
"Grell Sutcliffe," he says, offering nothing more than his name and another smile.
"What do you want from me?" She is still eyeing him warily, as if some part of her conscience is stating to return from a happy--red--place. She looks around again.
Grell knows he doesn't have much time before she turns back into something else, something ugly, probably horrified by what she has done. He grabs her hand, still gloved in sticky warm blood, and takes it to his lips. She startles at his gesture, her eyes unfocused again as his lips touch her hand, his tongue darting out to taste the blood.
"Just to help you perform your art," Grell says enjoying the shiver he can feel coursing through her, the way her lips part to let out a tiny moan. "We're not so different, you and I. We could help each other."
She wants to, Grell can tell she really wants to, but he can feel her reticence and the small part of her which is still human trying to pull away; and he knows he has to act or risk losing her to her own scruples. It would be a pity to waste such talent.
He takes a step forward, brushing his bloodstained lips against hers and she immediately surrenders, opening her mouth to him and relaxing in his arms. Grell smiles against her mouth, his sharp teeth breaking the delicate skin of her lips, the taste of blood overwhelming them.
They pull apart and she is more beautiful--redder--than ever.
"I am Madame Red," she says, smiling, insane.
Gorgeous.
A work of art.
…
Author: aviss
Pairing: Grell/Red
Rating: PG-13
Prompt: bloodplay - We're not so different, you and I.
Word Count: 480
Work of Art
For the first time in all his existence, Grell is seeing beauty in a living, breathing human.
She is magnificent: a goddess clad in red, hands dripping with the same colour and eyes unfocused, crimson lips curled in a grimace of either disgust or ecstasy. Probably both.
Grell stares at her while she butchers the woman, her hands ripping delicate tissue, and he makes up his mind right here and now. He wants her.
"Really beautiful work," he says allowing her to see him for the first time.
The woman startles and turns, eyes darting around and lips opening in surprise. She doesn’t try to cover what she's done and Grell likes her even more for that.
She stands, hand gripping the knife tighter, and faces Grell with insanity and determination shinning in her eyes. Grell smiles, two rows of sharp teeth showing clearly.
"Don't be silly, woman," he says playfully looking at the knife pointing at him and immediately dismissing it. "You can't harm me and I don’t want to harm you."
She stops, tilting her head and studying him, eyes sharpening as she takes in Grell's features and his own crimson hair. "Who are you?" she says, her voice still breathless with exertion and pleasure.
"Grell Sutcliffe," he says, offering nothing more than his name and another smile.
"What do you want from me?" She is still eyeing him warily, as if some part of her conscience is stating to return from a happy--red--place. She looks around again.
Grell knows he doesn't have much time before she turns back into something else, something ugly, probably horrified by what she has done. He grabs her hand, still gloved in sticky warm blood, and takes it to his lips. She startles at his gesture, her eyes unfocused again as his lips touch her hand, his tongue darting out to taste the blood.
"Just to help you perform your art," Grell says enjoying the shiver he can feel coursing through her, the way her lips part to let out a tiny moan. "We're not so different, you and I. We could help each other."
She wants to, Grell can tell she really wants to, but he can feel her reticence and the small part of her which is still human trying to pull away; and he knows he has to act or risk losing her to her own scruples. It would be a pity to waste such talent.
He takes a step forward, brushing his bloodstained lips against hers and she immediately surrenders, opening her mouth to him and relaxing in his arms. Grell smiles against her mouth, his sharp teeth breaking the delicate skin of her lips, the taste of blood overwhelming them.
They pull apart and she is more beautiful--redder--than ever.
"I am Madame Red," she says, smiling, insane.
Gorgeous.
A work of art.
…