ext_24936 (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
fireun.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
kinkfest2009-06-13 02:53 pm
fireun.livejournal.com) wrote in kinkfest2009-06-13 02:53 pm
Entry tags:
"Aesthetics" (Weiss Kreuz, Farfarello/Yohji)
Title- Aesthetics
Author-![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
fireun
Rating- PG13
Prompt- Weiss Kreuz - Farfarello/Yohji - Secret admirer - "He is beautiful when he kills."
Notes- late, I apologize
It was a slight rasp, a flick of the wrist, and the gleam of a passing headlight on metal. Long fingered hands flexed, biceps tensed, legs planted and the intent expression of a falcon bearing down on a pigeon transformed deceptively sleepy features.
It was glorious, the way eyes narrowed, mouth curved downward in a small frown of concentration. You could read lethal intent in every inch of Yohji’s body, in each muscle sharply defined by form-fitting clothing, in the cant of his head and the heave of his chest. Death glittered in pale eyes, death curved along the sharp edge of a smile.
Yohji smiled slightly as the wire caught, as his prey gasped, panicked, as he started to choke.
Not a movement was wasted, as Yohji pulled back, pulled on the wire caught in gloved hands, manipulating the life of his victim like some sort of demented puppeteer. Just enough force to end it, not enough to make it too quick.
Ah, a personal sort of killing. Farfarello applauded the satisfaction in Yohji’s face as his victim choked and sputtered through its last attempts at air, wondering just what this particular individual had done to spark that sort of expression of displeasure. There was a sublime perfection in the Yohji’s execution, in the fine line around the throat that was as much Yohji’s calling card as anything else, the tiny trickle of blood where the wire had bit deep into soft flesh. It was in the dirty smell of the city, the smoke and smog, the sharp tang of urine from the deceased. It was in the way Yohji straightened, wire reclaimed, and lit a cigarette, casual as a lover after a particularly good romp.
He was never so beautiful as when the kill was fresh in his face, that expression between intent and languid, the sated relaxation of a job well done. Anyone else would say it was a far cry from the playboy persona that Yohji paraded around in the daylight hours.
But not Farfarello.
Yohji was a predator. Women, other predators, they both got Yohji’s blood boiling.
Which in turn startled Farfarello’s heart to stutter into an unfamiliar, carnal appreciation.
One day, it would be just him in a dark alley with Yohji.
One day.
Farfarello smiled.
It would be glorious.
Author-
fireun Rating- PG13
Prompt- Weiss Kreuz - Farfarello/Yohji - Secret admirer - "He is beautiful when he kills."
Notes- late, I apologize
It was a slight rasp, a flick of the wrist, and the gleam of a passing headlight on metal. Long fingered hands flexed, biceps tensed, legs planted and the intent expression of a falcon bearing down on a pigeon transformed deceptively sleepy features.
It was glorious, the way eyes narrowed, mouth curved downward in a small frown of concentration. You could read lethal intent in every inch of Yohji’s body, in each muscle sharply defined by form-fitting clothing, in the cant of his head and the heave of his chest. Death glittered in pale eyes, death curved along the sharp edge of a smile.
Yohji smiled slightly as the wire caught, as his prey gasped, panicked, as he started to choke.
Not a movement was wasted, as Yohji pulled back, pulled on the wire caught in gloved hands, manipulating the life of his victim like some sort of demented puppeteer. Just enough force to end it, not enough to make it too quick.
Ah, a personal sort of killing. Farfarello applauded the satisfaction in Yohji’s face as his victim choked and sputtered through its last attempts at air, wondering just what this particular individual had done to spark that sort of expression of displeasure. There was a sublime perfection in the Yohji’s execution, in the fine line around the throat that was as much Yohji’s calling card as anything else, the tiny trickle of blood where the wire had bit deep into soft flesh. It was in the dirty smell of the city, the smoke and smog, the sharp tang of urine from the deceased. It was in the way Yohji straightened, wire reclaimed, and lit a cigarette, casual as a lover after a particularly good romp.
He was never so beautiful as when the kill was fresh in his face, that expression between intent and languid, the sated relaxation of a job well done. Anyone else would say it was a far cry from the playboy persona that Yohji paraded around in the daylight hours.
But not Farfarello.
Yohji was a predator. Women, other predators, they both got Yohji’s blood boiling.
Which in turn startled Farfarello’s heart to stutter into an unfamiliar, carnal appreciation.
One day, it would be just him in a dark alley with Yohji.
One day.
Farfarello smiled.
It would be glorious.
no subject
no subject
Farfarello was spot on. Let's face it - you never quite know what will catch his attention or how. I've always subscribed to Farf as a connoisseur - deeply appreciative of how others kill. Artist's judge other artists more critcally so it would take nothing less than a master to catch the Irishman's attention.
And Yohji absolutely would.
Weiss is so twisted and I am so glad you let that shine through. The kittens need some harsh reality to reclaim the substance fandom has slowly leeched out of them. I'm usually luke warm to Yohji but not this time.
Again - bravo maestro...
no subject
no subject
Thanks for sharing!