It's been a long time! Sorry people, but I have broken my hip, and my ankle, and I'm still kinda grounded.. So this took forever! Sorry for the wait!
In french, Bestiole means Beetle.
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Bestiole
The rotating blades that roared not only in natural sound, but in metallic screeches as it tore open tender flesh, rose pitiful whimpers and pleads. Such beautiful noises had the demon butler rather aroused in his own sense. How pleasant.
"Since you are such a good boy, I'll let you have a bit of pleasure," he purred, rather bemused by the appearance of the wounded reaper, basking in the rose red blossoms that spread along his pale flesh. Why not? It was Grells favorite substance after all, what he craved. One hand wielded the modified scythe menacingly centimeters away from the whimpering death god while the digits that had been ravelled in the long crimson strands relieved their casting from the white fabric that covered them, letting the glove drop to the lawn.
Frantically squirming beneath Sebastian, Grells screams were renewed as the chains ripped and bit into just below his extremities; in violent reprocussion, his nails snaked out and latched onto the black butlers arm. "P-please.. S-sebastian! Don't!" It was full of wonderful emotions. Fear, anger, anxiety. At the feeling of skin upon his backside, he stilled and tensed, eyes wide. Sebastians fingers, gathering red liquid as they slipped down the arch of his captives lower back, finally probing inwards, starting off with the painful starting amount of three of the five fingers, thankfully lubricated by the victims own blood.
Curling his fingers into the demon's skin, the other hand digging into his shoulder as well, the distressed reaper cried out, shark-like enamel taking in the plump bottom lip, and being shoved completely through from the blinding pain. Even as that damned butler began the rough, infernal movments of his hand, he couldn't help the screams of pleasure after a few more moments, paired with pained, strangled noises.
"S-sebas--chan.." With quiet whimpers, his hips begged to move, but the ever present whir of the blades on his precious scythe kept his lustful movements stilled. The demon smiled wickedly as he withdrew the digits and pushed the redhead into the side of the bricked stairs. As all the pieces fell into place in the reapers understanding of the situation, the tears pricked his vision with finality. "Please, S-sebastia, no! P-please no!"
There was only a second or so of silence, before the ear-splitting screeches began, along with the accompanient of screaming metal ripping through flesh. Muscles and tender nerves shredded with each thrust of Sebastian's arms, pushing the chainsaw deeper into the weeping and fragile form, reaching every crevice. Crimson essence proceeded to splatter against the ground, and splash upon the participants bodies, along with the once green lawn. There was no argument that the devil wasn't filled with joy at seeing this mess before his eyes, filled with the satisfaction that he was taming this retched creature, smashing the insect that always seemed to fester within the wooden walls of the Phantomhive Estate.
There was no brilliant moment of release for the reaper, nor for the demon. The only sound now was the dripping of blood from the dirtied and fouled metal. Hanging upon it was decorations of flesh that had been dug into the chain. The clang as the reapers scythe was dropped was the only sound, and then the only sound was the footsteps into the house, with a small, content laugh.
"Where exactly have you been Sebastian?" came the annoyed voice of his young master, looking quite irritated with that narrowed, azure left eye.
The butler in question smiled, pulling on his untainted white gloves, albeit the rest of his outfit was either shredded or coated with layers of seeping red fluid. "Just admiring the felines that have decided to come around at this hour. And ridding the premises of roaches."
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Sorry, but this is all! This is the end. D:
