Oh Thrones and Rebellion - KyoxMao
Author - Meh
Rating - None
Warnings - language, maybe?
Pairings - KyoxMao
Synposis - who did he take for a fool?
Disclaimers - Don't own~
A/N - So, so so...something different. Totally different. I found this drabble written in a style that totally blew me away and I finally mustered up the courage to try it out. After a week's struggling with it, this is what came out...
On a side note; i know 'Waru/Warumono. is actually Kyo's nickname, but for some reason, my Kyo muse insists on refering to Mao as Waru or Waru-ai, so yeah, it's refering to Mao at the beginning, not Kyo.
‘what’s going on in that head of yours, Waru?’
the elder sat, stretched, not unlike a feline, watching. attentive and maybe a bit curious. a cat and its prey. only who was the cat and who the catch? the brunette shifted, diligent in his actions as he made room - deep, deep irises; reflections of anger twisting, brewing. dangerous and cunning - stiff muscles suggesting unease at the new presence. snuffed - those fingers of painted history, stories untold, pushing aside that rage, that beautiful mask with a mere brush of skin against skin. index against cheek. they said practice makes perfect. four years of it made them. were they perfect?
‘a means to conquer this world.’ - by far.
a smile ghosted the younger’s lips, things of imagination maybe - it never did reach grey hues that held onto the anger. the familiarity. sanctuary of emotions like sanctuary from pain - if one only knew outrage there would be no space left for pain, right? ‘you already have your world.’ so maybe he were the prey, an abomination of self - reaching for foreign sanctuary that was fear, the darker haired’s arms. fear and vulnerability and dependency and love - the cat no longer a predator to fear - alien in their nature. clashing. who was the cat again?
ahh, sweet riddles - word plays, instigators on tongues thought innocent. ‘only you would bow.’ asserted, the youngest shrugged. bold in his front - eyes glistening, eager. overpowering the far off glint of barbells - anticipating of the challenge he’d set. a challenge of wits, maybe. silent, not really a challenge at all once the elder caught the faint ploy - a lover’s quarrel - alas. wisps of what one could call brows rose, wisps only home to elegant mistresses -powdered geishas - misplaced, then? lost on masculine features - on contraire.
defiance to certainty.
‘i wouldn’t.’
softly spoken - cocksure and conclusive - not unlike his ardent younger-half. the words almost a purr against the back of a throat that spoke -too often, too often - fondness in ardour of the fairest of the pair. their pair. them. abominable, erroneous, imperfect them. a smile to accompany the raise of eyebrows prior. why so befitting then? - home turf, this memoir, this…this life they’d built -reprimanding. cruel, cruel mother. in pieces -yet so troublesomely befitting - for them. this was for them. that smile only escalating - something short of a grin now plastered like décor to the dark haired’s features - silent in its way of showing the young beauty that crawled, so, so achingly slowly, over it wanted him there.
yes
there
‘right there.’
heavy in his lap, calculative, warm - dominant, dominant Mao. who did he take for a fool?
‘you dare to question anarchy?’
pushed down, jelly under hands that picked well, sensitive expanses - Conquered. purring, the vocalization held to restraints for far too long already - an admittance to defeat - ha. more so a challenge in a challenge. leer like the devil’s, the elder veering skyward towards the source - those fingers. offering pressure, pleasure. his place in this fabricated reality. beneath him. below him. inferior to him. the dark haired bowed to no one. impertinently.
‘for as long as you dare question equality, my lord.’
‘oh, you are such a suck up.’
laughter echoed throughout his living room as Mao caught on to the smartass jab and finally let it out, whacking the man under him square on the arm the second Kyo defiantly purred again.
…Mao really hated cats, huh?
Rating - None
Warnings - language, maybe?
Pairings - KyoxMao
Synposis - who did he take for a fool?
Disclaimers - Don't own~
A/N - So, so so...something different. Totally different. I found this drabble written in a style that totally blew me away and I finally mustered up the courage to try it out. After a week's struggling with it, this is what came out...
On a side note; i know 'Waru/Warumono. is actually Kyo's nickname, but for some reason, my Kyo muse insists on refering to Mao as Waru or Waru-ai, so yeah, it's refering to Mao at the beginning, not Kyo.
‘what’s going on in that head of yours, Waru?’
the elder sat, stretched, not unlike a feline, watching. attentive and maybe a bit curious. a cat and its prey. only who was the cat and who the catch? the brunette shifted, diligent in his actions as he made room - deep, deep irises; reflections of anger twisting, brewing. dangerous and cunning - stiff muscles suggesting unease at the new presence. snuffed - those fingers of painted history, stories untold, pushing aside that rage, that beautiful mask with a mere brush of skin against skin. index against cheek. they said practice makes perfect. four years of it made them. were they perfect?
‘a means to conquer this world.’ - by far.
a smile ghosted the younger’s lips, things of imagination maybe - it never did reach grey hues that held onto the anger. the familiarity. sanctuary of emotions like sanctuary from pain - if one only knew outrage there would be no space left for pain, right? ‘you already have your world.’ so maybe he were the prey, an abomination of self - reaching for foreign sanctuary that was fear, the darker haired’s arms. fear and vulnerability and dependency and love - the cat no longer a predator to fear - alien in their nature. clashing. who was the cat again?
ahh, sweet riddles - word plays, instigators on tongues thought innocent. ‘only you would bow.’ asserted, the youngest shrugged. bold in his front - eyes glistening, eager. overpowering the far off glint of barbells - anticipating of the challenge he’d set. a challenge of wits, maybe. silent, not really a challenge at all once the elder caught the faint ploy - a lover’s quarrel - alas. wisps of what one could call brows rose, wisps only home to elegant mistresses -powdered geishas - misplaced, then? lost on masculine features - on contraire.
defiance to certainty.
‘i wouldn’t.’
softly spoken - cocksure and conclusive - not unlike his ardent younger-half. the words almost a purr against the back of a throat that spoke -too often, too often - fondness in ardour of the fairest of the pair. their pair. them. abominable, erroneous, imperfect them. a smile to accompany the raise of eyebrows prior. why so befitting then? - home turf, this memoir, this…this life they’d built -reprimanding. cruel, cruel mother. in pieces -yet so troublesomely befitting - for them. this was for them. that smile only escalating - something short of a grin now plastered like décor to the dark haired’s features - silent in its way of showing the young beauty that crawled, so, so achingly slowly, over it wanted him there.
yes
there
‘right there.’
heavy in his lap, calculative, warm - dominant, dominant Mao. who did he take for a fool?
‘you dare to question anarchy?’
pushed down, jelly under hands that picked well, sensitive expanses - Conquered. purring, the vocalization held to restraints for far too long already - an admittance to defeat - ha. more so a challenge in a challenge. leer like the devil’s, the elder veering skyward towards the source - those fingers. offering pressure, pleasure. his place in this fabricated reality. beneath him. below him. inferior to him. the dark haired bowed to no one. impertinently.
‘for as long as you dare question equality, my lord.’
‘oh, you are such a suck up.’
laughter echoed throughout his living room as Mao caught on to the smartass jab and finally let it out, whacking the man under him square on the arm the second Kyo defiantly purred again.
…Mao really hated cats, huh?