These are drabbles/ficlets in response to the Weiss Kreuz writing challenge I posted at http://beautifuldorian(DOT)livejournal(DOT)com/185766.html , aka my livejournal. I will add more as they are requested and written.

Seeing as this is a pairing writing challenge, and all the characters are male, these WILL BE YAOI. Enjoy. If you don't like it, don't read these.

I do not own Weiss. Koyasu does. And he's remaking them into Velvet Under World, with some weird ass outfits.

These do not all take place in the same universe!

This first one is rated a HARD M for GORE AND BLOOD. It's Farf-centric, people, it's messy.

Okay, there was just no way I could make this a sex scene in any way. But it's close.

for lj user- 'delfeus'

(Farf x his angst object, which in this case is Ruth; theme is 'forgetting something')

Elohim Dreaming

The blanket was laid over his lap, and the man stroked it. He knew he was dreaming, because it wasn't bloodstained, and he could see out of both of his eyes, and he had forgotten his knives. He never forgot one, even if only to nibble on it. That alone let him know he was sleeping.

That, and he'd long since killed the woman sitting across from him.

And yet here she was, as young as he remembered, smiling at him. The cross around her neck was enough to make his lip twitch, and he didn't hear a word she said. He supposed this might be more of a memory than a dream - except that he looked back with a mind that held nothing but hate for her. She prattled on mindlessly until finally he grew tired of hearing her treacherous voice.

"Shut up," he spat raspily, and the woman quieted, startled. The little kitchen, aglow with late afternoon sunshine, hardly seemed the place for that voice. Logically she should have cared that he wasn't a child anymore. But Farfarello didn't care about logic.

"Jei," the woman tried again, and the next thing out of her mouth was a scream. Farfarello launched himself across the table, snarling, to wrap hands around her neck. Killing her a second time would be fun. As her eyes bulged out, a thought crossed his mind - he could make it last. This was a kill he wanted to savor.

But he didn't have any knives.

Looking down at her, he frowned. Her face was turning blue, and her hand beat at him feebly. Finally he just sank his nails into the tender skin on either side of her trachea, and PULLED.

As her throat was ripped out with a messy gurgle, he watched the blood spill over his lap, soaking the blanket, turning white angel wings red. There, that was how it was supposed to be.

Later, when Farfarello awoke, he was smiling, and when Schuldig came to let him out of his straitjacket for the day, he laughed. The telepath just scowled at him, a scowl that deepened when the usual command to relinquish his blades resulted in nothing.

"You have to be hiding -some-," the German hissed. "Fork them over."

Farfarello merely smiled. "You forget, Schuldig," he cooed, wandering past him out the door. "I don't always need knives."

Even Schuldig was a little unnerved to see the red under Farfarello's nails - but that was just because he'd been the one to supervise the lunatic's shower last night, and they'd been clean when Farf had been locked up. The redhead glanced around, but there was no blood anywhere in the room; it didn't smell of it, and Farfarello had passed a very quiet, firmly tied up night, so it couldn't have been from anything self inflicted...

Shaking himself out of such eerie thoughts, Schuldig quickly followed Farfarello out the door. He'd do well to remind Farf that if he didn't need knives, -he- didn't need his gun, but both of them needed to be to the meeting on time to prevent another golf club special from Fat Fuck Takatori.

Leaving the incident behind him, Schuldig could nonetheless overhear Farfarello singing to himself on the drive out.

Sleep now my darling, lay down your head
Lay down and dream, safe in your bed
Close now your eyes, and you will see
Death, sweet Death, your last gift from me...

sin sin