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Entry tags:
Stage VI: Sloth, Reflection
Title: Reflection
Fandom: Weiss Kreuz
Pairing: Crawford/Schuldig
Wordcount: 393
Stage I: Pride, Ego
Stage II: Envy, Jealousy
Stage III: Wrath, Reconciliation
Stage IV: Lust, Vitality
Stage V: Gluttony, Deceit
Waking up was a blurry process. Schuldig blearily swam towards consciousness and awoke to find himself half-sprawled across the bed and nearly falling off. The dull hum of voices in his mind grew a little louder; the sound of a thousand minds stirring to life. Flickers of foreign thoughts drifted across his mind.
where did she put my keys
have to make the kid’s cereal
ugh what the hell did I do last night
fucking alarm clock
maybe I’ll just call in sick to work
Schuldig stretched and groggily batted away the tangle of thoughts. He shifted over and turned to look out the window. Rain. The streets looked cold and wet. Schuldig briefly relished the thought that he was safely inside where it was warm and dry. Shifting under the warm, fluffy covers, he agreed with himself that he was very glad to be inside. He cheerfully entertained the idea of staying in bed all day. Nothing much else that had to be done anyway. One of the perks of being an evil telepathic assassin was being able to set your own hours.
Schuldig carefully sent out tendrils of thought to his teammates. Still asleep, all of them. He poked experimentally into Nagi’s dreams and was immediately amused at the expanse of technological and computer software that greeted him. Nagi couldn’t be a normal teenager, no; he had to have wet dreams about computer equipment.
Farfarello’s dreams were unsurprising and dull, filled with a lot of religious imagery and bloodshed. Schuldig liked violence as much as anyone, probably more so, but there really was more to life. With a tsk, he pulled his mind out of Farfarello’s and settled into the mind of the man lying in bed next to him.
He liked Crawford’s mind. It was always a cool, methodical hum at the surface, and a rich, simmering storm underneath. Sifting gently through his sleeping thoughts, Schuldig was thrilled to discover the nature of the dream he was interrupting. Sex dreams were his favorites, after all, especially ones starring himself.
Grinning, Schuldig curled further against Crawford. Maybe it was time to wake him up and make his dreams come true, so to speak. Schuldig decided that he would take this as an opportunity to enact his previous goal of staying in bed all day.
He had a feeling Crawford wouldn’t object.
Fandom: Weiss Kreuz
Pairing: Crawford/Schuldig
Wordcount: 393
Stage I: Pride, Ego
Stage II: Envy, Jealousy
Stage III: Wrath, Reconciliation
Stage IV: Lust, Vitality
Stage V: Gluttony, Deceit
Waking up was a blurry process. Schuldig blearily swam towards consciousness and awoke to find himself half-sprawled across the bed and nearly falling off. The dull hum of voices in his mind grew a little louder; the sound of a thousand minds stirring to life. Flickers of foreign thoughts drifted across his mind.
where did she put my keys
have to make the kid’s cereal
ugh what the hell did I do last night
fucking alarm clock
maybe I’ll just call in sick to work
Schuldig stretched and groggily batted away the tangle of thoughts. He shifted over and turned to look out the window. Rain. The streets looked cold and wet. Schuldig briefly relished the thought that he was safely inside where it was warm and dry. Shifting under the warm, fluffy covers, he agreed with himself that he was very glad to be inside. He cheerfully entertained the idea of staying in bed all day. Nothing much else that had to be done anyway. One of the perks of being an evil telepathic assassin was being able to set your own hours.
Schuldig carefully sent out tendrils of thought to his teammates. Still asleep, all of them. He poked experimentally into Nagi’s dreams and was immediately amused at the expanse of technological and computer software that greeted him. Nagi couldn’t be a normal teenager, no; he had to have wet dreams about computer equipment.
Farfarello’s dreams were unsurprising and dull, filled with a lot of religious imagery and bloodshed. Schuldig liked violence as much as anyone, probably more so, but there really was more to life. With a tsk, he pulled his mind out of Farfarello’s and settled into the mind of the man lying in bed next to him.
He liked Crawford’s mind. It was always a cool, methodical hum at the surface, and a rich, simmering storm underneath. Sifting gently through his sleeping thoughts, Schuldig was thrilled to discover the nature of the dream he was interrupting. Sex dreams were his favorites, after all, especially ones starring himself.
Grinning, Schuldig curled further against Crawford. Maybe it was time to wake him up and make his dreams come true, so to speak. Schuldig decided that he would take this as an opportunity to enact his previous goal of staying in bed all day.
He had a feeling Crawford wouldn’t object.
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