Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Mind Games and Coffee ❯ Chapter eleven ( Chapter 11 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: Solaras 
Schu is back from his romp with Farfie, now what does Brad have to say?
Anime/Manga: Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Comedy / Drama / Hentai / Romance | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 10.28.2006 | Updated On: 10.28.2006 | Pages: 3 | Words: 1.9K | Visits: 495 | Status: Work In Progress
Schu is back from his romp with Farfie, now what does Brad have to say?
Anime/Manga: Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Comedy / Drama / Hentai / Romance | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 10.28.2006 | Updated On: 10.28.2006 | Pages: 3 | Words: 1.9K | Visits: 495 | Status: Work In Progress
Disclaimer: Weiss Kreuz is not mine.All its characters and affiliates are also not mine.Nothing involving Weiss Kreuz is mine.Sadly this is true.
Author’s Notes: At last the chapter is here! Yay! I really should be working on my research project, but… yeah. Yall know how it is. The plot bunnies start attacking, and everything else goes out the mental window. Oh with the show…
Review Responses: Happy happy joy joy :)
KD Sarge – What’s frightening? Farfarello? Nah, well maybe. Ok, so it creeps me out too. No more horror movies for me, unless I’m writing Farfarello. Alas my weekly updates didn’t last long. Life found me again, and it still has me by the throat.
Meandering – What?! I could have sworn I fixed it to except unsigned reviews. Stupid MediaMiner. *Sigh* I’ll click the box again. I think MM.org hates me too. Nay, I know it does. The violence and Farfarello is a bit of a paradox, but its one of those things that keeps me from turning Schwarz into a fluffy family of love and compassion who wouldn’t dare kill for profit. Why must the sexy men be so evil? Nagi/Farf huh…hmm I’ll keep it in mind. Maybe I’ll do a one-shot sometime and give the pairing a spin. Probably something on the tame side though. My brain doesn’t want to put Nagi in sexual situations unless… Grr, focus, must update MGaC first.
fullmetalguitar (nli) – Thank you. I am quite proud of chapter ten. For once I don’t despise the whole thing. I love Farf, and even though this is a BxS story, I can give him the cold shoulder.
Hanyou-rogue – Glad you are enjoying the story. Alas the update wasn’t soon, but here it is. Maybe the next chapter will arrive sooner. Here’s hoping.
~telepathy~ aka communicating
/thoughts/ aka Schuldig reading someone’s mind
German Words:
Ja - Yes
Was – What
Ich - I
Chapter Eleven
Schuldig sat in the floor of the hall bathroom. He idly twirled a matted lock of blood painted hair. Previously he had seen to Farfarello, making sure he went to his own bathroom to clean up. Crawford and Farfarello had claimed the larger bedrooms, which included their own bath; the Irishman so he could clean and bandage himself at all hours, and Crawford because he was Crawford. The precog would be upset if the two of them stained everything burgundy. Dried blood never looked as sharp as the freshly spilt kind. After the stuff began to congeal, it was just a sticky mess, and after dried, it was just annoying. Schuldig scrapped at his nails.
The telepath usually didn’t get so involved in Farfarello’s escapades. Sure he aided in the targeting, finding someone alone and with no one waiting for them. Often he helped hold the victim down initially, but he usually didn’t get his hands so dirty. The hunt was Farfarello’s, and so was the twisted art that spawned from it. Schuldig liked long range methods of killing, guns and mental attacks, but occasionally he added his own artistic touch. Occasionally he got a little too swept up in the red vortex that was Farfarello. Farfarello’s mind careened about in deadly joyride fashion. One false move would demolish control. While the initial rush swept Schuldig along a rollercoaster high, coming down resembled bungee jumping with a non-elastic rope.
“You should be more careful.”
“But it’s fun Dad,” Schuldig said with a laugh. He quickly stopped and cradled his head.
“And the side effects?” Brad said more softly.
“Fun outweighs them.”
“Only while the fun lasts.”
“It was fun then.”
“Is it fun now?” Brad asked as he moved in from the doorway.
“My head hurts.”
“Did you take something?” Brad sidestepped the prone German, and turned on the shower.
“Ja.”
“What?”
“Don’t worry, not the good stuff. I won’t be passing out. It’s not that bad,” Schuldig replied, which Brad acknowledged with a nod. The precog stuck a washcloth under the spray. “Just a little carried away, that’s all.”
“You know better,” Brad said firmly.
“Don’t preach to me,” Schuldig growled, “you’re not…” Schuldig winced at his own overly loud voice.
“Not a telepath, no. Have I ever claimed to be? I do, however, know what you are capable of.”
“Not the same.”
“Retain more control around Farfarello. Don’t get distracted.”
“I’m not distracted” Schuldig quickly parried.
“And the last few days?”
“It’s nothing.”
“Schuldig,” Brad sighed. He knelt down in front of the telepath, who had his head resting on his knees. Gently Brad tilted Schuldig’s face up, and began wiping away the blood crusting his eyelashes together. He removed the hideously clashing yellow headband. “I think this one’s ruined,” Brad remarked.
“I have another one,” Schuldig said. Headache in the beginning of recession, he opened his eyes. Drops of honey scrutinized him in return. Schuldig watched as the steam from the shower began to cover Brad’s glasses. “You should get contacts.”
“Glasses are easier.”
“You hide behind them.”
“I don’t hide.”
“You hide from me.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Behind glasses, suits, work, the length of a desk, and those fucking mental shields,” Schuldig snapped. “What if I said I was serious?”
“Schuldig…”
& #8220;I’m not drunk. What if I said I was serious, right now?”
“Serious about what?” Brad questioned as he leaned away.
“You know what I’m talking about! Don’t assume that because I can’t read your mind, I don’t know anything. I’m trained to analyze people.”
“And I strategize and plan. Outcomes and consequences. Focus and control.”
“Screw control and consequences!”
“That’s the kind of thinking that got you here, sitting on the bathroom floor,” Brad stated calmly. “You need to be more aware of consequences.”
“Telling my future, Herr Crawford?” Schuldig sneered.
“There is no future, only possibilities.”
“And what ‘possibility’ bothers you about this,” Schuldig hissed before hurling himself on top of the stunned precog.
Brad’s head thumped against the tile floor, narrowly missing the toilet. Schuldig took advantage of the ensuing gasp, to snake his tongue in his captive’s mouth before Brad could protest. The telepath ignored his remaining headache, as he gripped Brad’s chin with one bloodstained hand. In an unconscious gesture, Schuldig mimicked his own previous captive state, but with a change of cast. He pinned the precog’s wrists with a death grip, hoping that his leverage would hold out against the boxer’s superior strength.
The kiss was hard and angry. Schuldig swept his tongue along the roof of Brad’s mouth, his teeth, his gums; mapping and claiming with every stroke. He felt the rough pad of Brad’s tongue along the smooth bottom of his, and hummed his appreciation. Brad was kissing him back. No matter what had been or would be said, or what was and wouldn’t be; Brad was kissing him back. The past could be blurred and the future denied, but not the present. Schuldig pulled back slightly, sucking on Brad’s bruised bottom lip.
“What could possibly be so wrong, Brad?” Schuldig’s words were more breathed into Brad than spoken, as the telepath opened his eyes to stare at his captive’s, hoping for something in return. A stray thought, a crack in the ever impressive shields, or even a word, anything that would let him in. Crawford closed his eyes, shutting Schuldig out, and turned his head. Eyes the color of dead leaves opened behind a barrier of translucent glass, and stared steadily at the base of the vanity. The voice that followed the action was crisp and level.
“Takatori is going to hurt you, and I have to let him.” Schuldig jerked, as if struck, and levered his upper body off the oracle.
“Was?”
“Farfarello too.”
“Brad…”
“It has to happen this way.” Schuldig moved off Crawford completely, and sat with his back against the tub, his gaze fixed on the prostrate figure before him.
“What has to happen Brad?” the telepath asked in a voice not quite stable. “We’re Schwarz, and you said; no we all agreed that we look out for each other!” Brad picked himself up the floor, and in an uncharacteristic move, hesitated.
“I… just be you, Schuldig. Play your games. I won’t stop you.” Brad made a move towards the door, but the telepath grabbed him by the shoulder and wheeled him around.
“Damn right you won’t. What’s going on? Hell if I’m going to listen to you, if you don’t have my back. Tell me what’s happening!” Schuldig near screamed, forcing eye contract; once again trying to find some kind of sign within the sealed mind before him.
“Do you trust me with Schwarz, Schuldig?” Crawford asked as he held the telepath’s gaze.
“You’re such a bastard, Crawford.”
“Do you trust me to plan for Schwarz?”
“Ich…” Crawford brushed the back of his hand along the redhead’s jaw line, and cupped his chin in a soothing gesture.
“Do you trust me?”
“Ja.”
“Then play your games.”
“With who? What target?”
“Weiss.”
E nd Chapter
What is it with this story and short chapters? Every chapter demands to end much sooner than I originally wanted. Oh well, maybe in the end it will seem coherent or something like that. Anyway, I can’t promise when I will update again, as I am in the middle of a bunch of research for school. Maybe plot bunnies will attack again. See everyone next time.
Solaras
Author’s Notes: At last the chapter is here! Yay! I really should be working on my research project, but… yeah. Yall know how it is. The plot bunnies start attacking, and everything else goes out the mental window. Oh with the show…
Review Responses: Happy happy joy joy :)
KD Sarge – What’s frightening? Farfarello? Nah, well maybe. Ok, so it creeps me out too. No more horror movies for me, unless I’m writing Farfarello. Alas my weekly updates didn’t last long. Life found me again, and it still has me by the throat.
Meandering – What?! I could have sworn I fixed it to except unsigned reviews. Stupid MediaMiner. *Sigh* I’ll click the box again. I think MM.org hates me too. Nay, I know it does. The violence and Farfarello is a bit of a paradox, but its one of those things that keeps me from turning Schwarz into a fluffy family of love and compassion who wouldn’t dare kill for profit. Why must the sexy men be so evil? Nagi/Farf huh…hmm I’ll keep it in mind. Maybe I’ll do a one-shot sometime and give the pairing a spin. Probably something on the tame side though. My brain doesn’t want to put Nagi in sexual situations unless… Grr, focus, must update MGaC first.
fullmetalguitar (nli) – Thank you. I am quite proud of chapter ten. For once I don’t despise the whole thing. I love Farf, and even though this is a BxS story, I can give him the cold shoulder.
Hanyou-rogue – Glad you are enjoying the story. Alas the update wasn’t soon, but here it is. Maybe the next chapter will arrive sooner. Here’s hoping.
~telepathy~ aka communicating
/thoughts/ aka Schuldig reading someone’s mind
German Words:
Ja - Yes
Was – What
Ich - I
Chapter Eleven
Schuldig sat in the floor of the hall bathroom. He idly twirled a matted lock of blood painted hair. Previously he had seen to Farfarello, making sure he went to his own bathroom to clean up. Crawford and Farfarello had claimed the larger bedrooms, which included their own bath; the Irishman so he could clean and bandage himself at all hours, and Crawford because he was Crawford. The precog would be upset if the two of them stained everything burgundy. Dried blood never looked as sharp as the freshly spilt kind. After the stuff began to congeal, it was just a sticky mess, and after dried, it was just annoying. Schuldig scrapped at his nails.
The telepath usually didn’t get so involved in Farfarello’s escapades. Sure he aided in the targeting, finding someone alone and with no one waiting for them. Often he helped hold the victim down initially, but he usually didn’t get his hands so dirty. The hunt was Farfarello’s, and so was the twisted art that spawned from it. Schuldig liked long range methods of killing, guns and mental attacks, but occasionally he added his own artistic touch. Occasionally he got a little too swept up in the red vortex that was Farfarello. Farfarello’s mind careened about in deadly joyride fashion. One false move would demolish control. While the initial rush swept Schuldig along a rollercoaster high, coming down resembled bungee jumping with a non-elastic rope.
“You should be more careful.”
“But it’s fun Dad,” Schuldig said with a laugh. He quickly stopped and cradled his head.
“And the side effects?” Brad said more softly.
“Fun outweighs them.”
“Only while the fun lasts.”
“It was fun then.”
“Is it fun now?” Brad asked as he moved in from the doorway.
“My head hurts.”
“Did you take something?” Brad sidestepped the prone German, and turned on the shower.
“Ja.”
“What?”
“Don’t worry, not the good stuff. I won’t be passing out. It’s not that bad,” Schuldig replied, which Brad acknowledged with a nod. The precog stuck a washcloth under the spray. “Just a little carried away, that’s all.”
“You know better,” Brad said firmly.
“Don’t preach to me,” Schuldig growled, “you’re not…” Schuldig winced at his own overly loud voice.
“Not a telepath, no. Have I ever claimed to be? I do, however, know what you are capable of.”
“Not the same.”
“Retain more control around Farfarello. Don’t get distracted.”
“I’m not distracted” Schuldig quickly parried.
“And the last few days?”
“It’s nothing.”
“Schuldig,” Brad sighed. He knelt down in front of the telepath, who had his head resting on his knees. Gently Brad tilted Schuldig’s face up, and began wiping away the blood crusting his eyelashes together. He removed the hideously clashing yellow headband. “I think this one’s ruined,” Brad remarked.
“I have another one,” Schuldig said. Headache in the beginning of recession, he opened his eyes. Drops of honey scrutinized him in return. Schuldig watched as the steam from the shower began to cover Brad’s glasses. “You should get contacts.”
“Glasses are easier.”
“You hide behind them.”
“I don’t hide.”
“You hide from me.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Behind glasses, suits, work, the length of a desk, and those fucking mental shields,” Schuldig snapped. “What if I said I was serious?”
“Schuldig…”
& #8220;I’m not drunk. What if I said I was serious, right now?”
“Serious about what?” Brad questioned as he leaned away.
“You know what I’m talking about! Don’t assume that because I can’t read your mind, I don’t know anything. I’m trained to analyze people.”
“And I strategize and plan. Outcomes and consequences. Focus and control.”
“Screw control and consequences!”
“That’s the kind of thinking that got you here, sitting on the bathroom floor,” Brad stated calmly. “You need to be more aware of consequences.”
“Telling my future, Herr Crawford?” Schuldig sneered.
“There is no future, only possibilities.”
“And what ‘possibility’ bothers you about this,” Schuldig hissed before hurling himself on top of the stunned precog.
Brad’s head thumped against the tile floor, narrowly missing the toilet. Schuldig took advantage of the ensuing gasp, to snake his tongue in his captive’s mouth before Brad could protest. The telepath ignored his remaining headache, as he gripped Brad’s chin with one bloodstained hand. In an unconscious gesture, Schuldig mimicked his own previous captive state, but with a change of cast. He pinned the precog’s wrists with a death grip, hoping that his leverage would hold out against the boxer’s superior strength.
The kiss was hard and angry. Schuldig swept his tongue along the roof of Brad’s mouth, his teeth, his gums; mapping and claiming with every stroke. He felt the rough pad of Brad’s tongue along the smooth bottom of his, and hummed his appreciation. Brad was kissing him back. No matter what had been or would be said, or what was and wouldn’t be; Brad was kissing him back. The past could be blurred and the future denied, but not the present. Schuldig pulled back slightly, sucking on Brad’s bruised bottom lip.
“What could possibly be so wrong, Brad?” Schuldig’s words were more breathed into Brad than spoken, as the telepath opened his eyes to stare at his captive’s, hoping for something in return. A stray thought, a crack in the ever impressive shields, or even a word, anything that would let him in. Crawford closed his eyes, shutting Schuldig out, and turned his head. Eyes the color of dead leaves opened behind a barrier of translucent glass, and stared steadily at the base of the vanity. The voice that followed the action was crisp and level.
“Takatori is going to hurt you, and I have to let him.” Schuldig jerked, as if struck, and levered his upper body off the oracle.
“Was?”
“Farfarello too.”
“Brad…”
“It has to happen this way.” Schuldig moved off Crawford completely, and sat with his back against the tub, his gaze fixed on the prostrate figure before him.
“What has to happen Brad?” the telepath asked in a voice not quite stable. “We’re Schwarz, and you said; no we all agreed that we look out for each other!” Brad picked himself up the floor, and in an uncharacteristic move, hesitated.
“I… just be you, Schuldig. Play your games. I won’t stop you.” Brad made a move towards the door, but the telepath grabbed him by the shoulder and wheeled him around.
“Damn right you won’t. What’s going on? Hell if I’m going to listen to you, if you don’t have my back. Tell me what’s happening!” Schuldig near screamed, forcing eye contract; once again trying to find some kind of sign within the sealed mind before him.
“Do you trust me with Schwarz, Schuldig?” Crawford asked as he held the telepath’s gaze.
“You’re such a bastard, Crawford.”
“Do you trust me to plan for Schwarz?”
“Ich…” Crawford brushed the back of his hand along the redhead’s jaw line, and cupped his chin in a soothing gesture.
“Do you trust me?”
“Ja.”
“Then play your games.”
“With who? What target?”
“Weiss.”
E nd Chapter
What is it with this story and short chapters? Every chapter demands to end much sooner than I originally wanted. Oh well, maybe in the end it will seem coherent or something like that. Anyway, I can’t promise when I will update again, as I am in the middle of a bunch of research for school. Maybe plot bunnies will attack again. See everyone next time.
Solaras