Categories > Anime/Manga > Weiss Kreuz
While you Sleep
Schwarz is over. Few more hours and they will be forced to take separate paths. While Farfarello sleeps, Schuldig thinks over their bond.
?Blocked
Warning: DARK! Blood, death and sex. They are Schwarz! If you are not comfortable with it, just skip it!
A note: even though this story has been carefully beated by lovely Shinyboot, English is not my mother tongue. I apologize in advance.
*
While you sleep
Something innocent softens your countenance while you sleep. A faint smile on your lips, a slight flush tingeing your cheeks. The scars are barely visible in the dim light coming from the outside, but I know them all too well. I follow their paths with imaginary fingers, as I've done so many nights. I wish I could touch them, but I don’t want to wake you up and steal these precious moments of unnatural peace. We have so little time before They come and tear us apart.
If I wake you up, I know I will see your thoughts and I don’t want to, because they are dark and painful. It’s strange how I can tolerate anything but your inner pain, which is so even to mine and, at the same time, so unfamiliar.
Schwarz is over. A few more hours and somebody will come and take us away, far away, forever. Away from each others, from what we are, from what we have. And we’ll never see each other again.
Your lips part and a soft sound escapes; it's more like a wail.
I know you are dreaming. I can see it from the fast movements beneath the lid of your sane eye, and I wonder if your dreams have the same hallucinate colours of your thoughts during the waking hours.
Reading others’ minds is a very dangerous and vicious game. A game that can turn against you at any moment, making you drown in a swirl of images and emotions until you die. Or worse, lose your sanity.
But your thoughts don’t scare me anymore; I’ve learned how to touch them, how to follow their exasperated whirl without losing myself. I recognize the signs, I absorb the feelings and I find the same desires pounding inside of me. There is a tiny thread running through them, red like blood, leading always to the same end. Death.
We understood each other since the beginning. I didn’t even have to creep inside your mind, and I could have done it so easily back then when your shields were nonexistent. I could have raped your thoughts and molded you into my perfect partner in that slaughtering game that has been Schwarz. But there was no need for that because your craving for death was already there, lingering on the surface, written over your scarred body. Ten thousand times stronger and more disruptive than mine, tangible and substantial.
I think it’s called empathy, this communion of feelings, emotions and intents so strong it’s almost physical.
We began to hunt together, to kill together, and together we turned every single murder in a ritual that was only meant for ourselves. Different reasons moved us to kill, but we end up craving it for the same ones: lust of blood and pain. And desire, that throbbing desire that turns our flesh afire and makes us stumble in a hidden alley, hungry, aroused, still stained in blood, with screams echoing in our heads. But we’re hungry, so hungry and burning by a fire that consumes us from within and that can only be extinguished when we touch each other. Skin to skin, mouth to mouth, until I come inside of you and I feel you gushing in my fist. And it’s only afterwards that the smoke dissolves and I can truly see you. My cursed angel, gorgeous and dreadful, and I know I’m the only blessed one who can have you this way.
My Farfarello.
Yet, for other people, we are just the image we project into their far too pliant and weak minds: two strangers, two gaijin with strange clothes and weird hairstyles strolling through Tokyo’s streets. I realized it a few nights ago, while we sat in a theatre, watching a movie like a normal couple of friends. The curious amazement for the scars on your beautiful face and the black patch covering your empty orb turning into pure disgust when our fingers intertwined and your head rested on my shoulder. I felt the feathered touch of your thoughts and I kissed your brow.
How right you are. What a miserable existence common people endure. So miserable it’s not even worth living.
You are smiling again in your sleep. I wonder what you are dreaming about. Maybe us? I nudge gently at your mind and your shields give easily, letting me in. What I see steals my breath away and makes my heart ache with a sudden stab. So, that big is the extent of your love for me... I wipe away a tear while I bend and brush your lips with a kiss. It's not time for tears now.
“Farf...”
My breath caresses your skin and you open your sane eye a little. You know that I know and you don’t even need to ask. You know I’ll do it. For you. For us.
You touch my face and smile and I kiss you again, harder this time and I feel you growing beneath my body. Your skin is so soft and warm.
“Fuck me.”
Yes, I’ll do it. I’ll do whatever you want.
But I take my time. I kiss and touch every bit of your body, teasingly, lovingly, while your breath becomes deeper and faster. I know how to take good care of you, working on every sensitive spot, arousing them until they become a bunch of bare nerves that quiver and send shivers all along your body, straight to your groin. I can feel it too through our connected minds, the brushing of my hair over your skin, the tension in your nipples that peak out, sensitive like those of a horny young girl, the liquid heat pooling in your belly.
Your cock is ready, dark and swollen on the head, leaking pearly droplets when I take it in my mouth.
I know I cannot hold you back for long, and my control is quickly loosening too, but I cannot help but to tease you again for a little longer. My tongue rubs around the tip, stroking the damp skin, teasing the slit until your hips jerk and you try to shove your cock deep into my mouth; I can feel your blood through the underside vein: it’s running fast and throbbing at the same pace of your heart. The bitter taste of your precome tells me you are close.
I enter you. In a quick, steady move. And it’s not just because I know you cannot feel any pain, but because I need you so badly it hurts.
Your back arches, your head falls back, offering me your throat. I mark the tender flesh with my teeth and suck hard on the love bite while I grow inside of you, harder than I’ve ever been. Your hands cup my face and our eyes meet. For a brief moment, we forget about everything and all the things that need to be said are there, lingering between us, unspoken but even more consistent and meaningful than words.
We kiss, one last time, and I feel your thighs clenching hard around my hips. You are coming and I follow.
Now I scream in your mind. And in that moment I see the blade, and a strange sting makes my throat tingle.
Then, everything turns red and I realize that it is my blood; mingling with yours, covering our chests, drenching the sheets. I try to pull out of you, never breaking eyes contact, but with the last residue of strength your arms pull me down and embrace me.
And then I understand.
I rest my head on your chest, over your heart, where the beatings are getting slower and slower and slower, just like mine. And I close my eyes.
Farewell, my love.
Your last words caress my mind and this time I cannot hold back my tears.
And they think we were unable to love. If they only knew...
END
gaijin = japanese for "strangers"
A note: even though this story has been carefully beated by lovely Shinyboot, English is not my mother tongue. I apologize in advance.
*
While you sleep
Something innocent softens your countenance while you sleep. A faint smile on your lips, a slight flush tingeing your cheeks. The scars are barely visible in the dim light coming from the outside, but I know them all too well. I follow their paths with imaginary fingers, as I've done so many nights. I wish I could touch them, but I don’t want to wake you up and steal these precious moments of unnatural peace. We have so little time before They come and tear us apart.
If I wake you up, I know I will see your thoughts and I don’t want to, because they are dark and painful. It’s strange how I can tolerate anything but your inner pain, which is so even to mine and, at the same time, so unfamiliar.
Schwarz is over. A few more hours and somebody will come and take us away, far away, forever. Away from each others, from what we are, from what we have. And we’ll never see each other again.
Your lips part and a soft sound escapes; it's more like a wail.
I know you are dreaming. I can see it from the fast movements beneath the lid of your sane eye, and I wonder if your dreams have the same hallucinate colours of your thoughts during the waking hours.
Reading others’ minds is a very dangerous and vicious game. A game that can turn against you at any moment, making you drown in a swirl of images and emotions until you die. Or worse, lose your sanity.
But your thoughts don’t scare me anymore; I’ve learned how to touch them, how to follow their exasperated whirl without losing myself. I recognize the signs, I absorb the feelings and I find the same desires pounding inside of me. There is a tiny thread running through them, red like blood, leading always to the same end. Death.
We understood each other since the beginning. I didn’t even have to creep inside your mind, and I could have done it so easily back then when your shields were nonexistent. I could have raped your thoughts and molded you into my perfect partner in that slaughtering game that has been Schwarz. But there was no need for that because your craving for death was already there, lingering on the surface, written over your scarred body. Ten thousand times stronger and more disruptive than mine, tangible and substantial.
I think it’s called empathy, this communion of feelings, emotions and intents so strong it’s almost physical.
We began to hunt together, to kill together, and together we turned every single murder in a ritual that was only meant for ourselves. Different reasons moved us to kill, but we end up craving it for the same ones: lust of blood and pain. And desire, that throbbing desire that turns our flesh afire and makes us stumble in a hidden alley, hungry, aroused, still stained in blood, with screams echoing in our heads. But we’re hungry, so hungry and burning by a fire that consumes us from within and that can only be extinguished when we touch each other. Skin to skin, mouth to mouth, until I come inside of you and I feel you gushing in my fist. And it’s only afterwards that the smoke dissolves and I can truly see you. My cursed angel, gorgeous and dreadful, and I know I’m the only blessed one who can have you this way.
My Farfarello.
Yet, for other people, we are just the image we project into their far too pliant and weak minds: two strangers, two gaijin with strange clothes and weird hairstyles strolling through Tokyo’s streets. I realized it a few nights ago, while we sat in a theatre, watching a movie like a normal couple of friends. The curious amazement for the scars on your beautiful face and the black patch covering your empty orb turning into pure disgust when our fingers intertwined and your head rested on my shoulder. I felt the feathered touch of your thoughts and I kissed your brow.
How right you are. What a miserable existence common people endure. So miserable it’s not even worth living.
You are smiling again in your sleep. I wonder what you are dreaming about. Maybe us? I nudge gently at your mind and your shields give easily, letting me in. What I see steals my breath away and makes my heart ache with a sudden stab. So, that big is the extent of your love for me... I wipe away a tear while I bend and brush your lips with a kiss. It's not time for tears now.
“Farf...”
My breath caresses your skin and you open your sane eye a little. You know that I know and you don’t even need to ask. You know I’ll do it. For you. For us.
You touch my face and smile and I kiss you again, harder this time and I feel you growing beneath my body. Your skin is so soft and warm.
“Fuck me.”
Yes, I’ll do it. I’ll do whatever you want.
But I take my time. I kiss and touch every bit of your body, teasingly, lovingly, while your breath becomes deeper and faster. I know how to take good care of you, working on every sensitive spot, arousing them until they become a bunch of bare nerves that quiver and send shivers all along your body, straight to your groin. I can feel it too through our connected minds, the brushing of my hair over your skin, the tension in your nipples that peak out, sensitive like those of a horny young girl, the liquid heat pooling in your belly.
Your cock is ready, dark and swollen on the head, leaking pearly droplets when I take it in my mouth.
I know I cannot hold you back for long, and my control is quickly loosening too, but I cannot help but to tease you again for a little longer. My tongue rubs around the tip, stroking the damp skin, teasing the slit until your hips jerk and you try to shove your cock deep into my mouth; I can feel your blood through the underside vein: it’s running fast and throbbing at the same pace of your heart. The bitter taste of your precome tells me you are close.
I enter you. In a quick, steady move. And it’s not just because I know you cannot feel any pain, but because I need you so badly it hurts.
Your back arches, your head falls back, offering me your throat. I mark the tender flesh with my teeth and suck hard on the love bite while I grow inside of you, harder than I’ve ever been. Your hands cup my face and our eyes meet. For a brief moment, we forget about everything and all the things that need to be said are there, lingering between us, unspoken but even more consistent and meaningful than words.
We kiss, one last time, and I feel your thighs clenching hard around my hips. You are coming and I follow.
Now I scream in your mind. And in that moment I see the blade, and a strange sting makes my throat tingle.
Then, everything turns red and I realize that it is my blood; mingling with yours, covering our chests, drenching the sheets. I try to pull out of you, never breaking eyes contact, but with the last residue of strength your arms pull me down and embrace me.
And then I understand.
I rest my head on your chest, over your heart, where the beatings are getting slower and slower and slower, just like mine. And I close my eyes.
Farewell, my love.
Your last words caress my mind and this time I cannot hold back my tears.
And they think we were unable to love. If they only knew...
END
gaijin = japanese for "strangers"
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