[Weiß Kreuz] The If Test [Angst]
Fandom: Weiß Kreuz
Title: The If Test
Character: Schuldig
Rating & Warnings: R for coarse language, male/male sexual situations (non-explicit)
Genre & Theme: Angst - If
Disclaimer: Weiß Kreuz is owned by Takehito Koyasu, Marine Entertainment, Project Weiß, and associated parties.
One thing I've learned about life while living with Brad: nothing is set in stone. Every event has possibilities that change it, and the trick to getting through life successfully is seeing those possibilities and using them. The problem is, if you're not a precognitive, sometimes understanding comes too late.
Brad gave us this exercise to do each time we come to a choice. He called it 'If'. The point is, of course, to develop our minds into considering all possible ramifications, since we can't actually See the future. Might even work, eventually. For someone.
The way you do it is simple: each time you come to a choice, as quickly as you can, go through a series of 'ifs'. If I eat the last apple, Nagi will get pissy. If I choose the doughnut instead, Brad won't have anything to dunk in his coffee tomorrow morning. If I choose to actually spend the effort to call out and wait, Brad'll eat the pizza with me, and Farfarello will get his wings. Nagi still gets the apple. Once the 'ifs' are done, it's simply a matter of deciding whether I wanna deal with a pissy Nagi, a grumpy Brad, or a growling stomach.
...I usually choose the stomach.
All in all, Brad's 'If' is good. And when you have the time to think it out, it does work... except that it was supposed to train our minds to think it all out faster, and if it had, I probably wouldn't be here.
I suppose the first 'if' would've been way back in the club a few months ago, when I caught sight of a certain kitten dancing his little heart out. At the time, I thought I just couldn't resist nudging his mind just so to get him to relax as I slid up behind him, my body moving against his while I danced. Looking back, I wouldn't bet money that Brad would've told me I could resist it. I don't like to lose.
Even so, forgetting the whole mind-nudging thing (which I never did share with him. I'm not stupid, after all.), the next 'if' would probably have been carting him back to the neutral apartment Brad lets me keep for sex. Because carting him there meant mindblowing fucking. Kittens are damned good in the sack. I still don't really see how I could've chosen any different. It was exactly what I was looking for at the time, and I still think it was too delicious to pass up. And there was the whole half-seduced mind calling out to me that made me all the harder. It feels better when I don't have to manipulate that.
All the same, even with all that going for him, I probably could've kept the kitten from seducing me quite that badly. I mean, he twisted my damned head around until I was eating out of his hand, and I am not a docile creature. Not even for Brad. But he wanted more than a one-night stand, and he got it. He wanted the occasional bit of sweet talk, and he got it. Dinner and a movie? As long as it was in the apartment, or in another city, he got it. Two fucking months, he got pretty much every damned thing he wanted, except one.
And now he's got the 'one', and I'm no longer needed.
I stare at him, not quite sure I can believe my ears when I listen to this. He's picking another damned kitten over me. Another redhead, even... and this one can't even think unless that sword of his is so far up his ass it tickles his brainstem. But that's what he wants. I was apparently just a bump in the road... a fucking stepping stone for him. And he has the nerve to thank me for it. I wait until he leaves before I decide to get piss-ass drunk. Pretty sure there's some 'ifs' in there, but fuck them.
Oh, and hey Brad? Fuck you, too.
Title: The If Test
Character: Schuldig
Rating & Warnings: R for coarse language, male/male sexual situations (non-explicit)
Genre & Theme: Angst - If
Disclaimer: Weiß Kreuz is owned by Takehito Koyasu, Marine Entertainment, Project Weiß, and associated parties.
One thing I've learned about life while living with Brad: nothing is set in stone. Every event has possibilities that change it, and the trick to getting through life successfully is seeing those possibilities and using them. The problem is, if you're not a precognitive, sometimes understanding comes too late.
Brad gave us this exercise to do each time we come to a choice. He called it 'If'. The point is, of course, to develop our minds into considering all possible ramifications, since we can't actually See the future. Might even work, eventually. For someone.
The way you do it is simple: each time you come to a choice, as quickly as you can, go through a series of 'ifs'. If I eat the last apple, Nagi will get pissy. If I choose the doughnut instead, Brad won't have anything to dunk in his coffee tomorrow morning. If I choose to actually spend the effort to call out and wait, Brad'll eat the pizza with me, and Farfarello will get his wings. Nagi still gets the apple. Once the 'ifs' are done, it's simply a matter of deciding whether I wanna deal with a pissy Nagi, a grumpy Brad, or a growling stomach.
...I usually choose the stomach.
All in all, Brad's 'If' is good. And when you have the time to think it out, it does work... except that it was supposed to train our minds to think it all out faster, and if it had, I probably wouldn't be here.
I suppose the first 'if' would've been way back in the club a few months ago, when I caught sight of a certain kitten dancing his little heart out. At the time, I thought I just couldn't resist nudging his mind just so to get him to relax as I slid up behind him, my body moving against his while I danced. Looking back, I wouldn't bet money that Brad would've told me I could resist it. I don't like to lose.
Even so, forgetting the whole mind-nudging thing (which I never did share with him. I'm not stupid, after all.), the next 'if' would probably have been carting him back to the neutral apartment Brad lets me keep for sex. Because carting him there meant mindblowing fucking. Kittens are damned good in the sack. I still don't really see how I could've chosen any different. It was exactly what I was looking for at the time, and I still think it was too delicious to pass up. And there was the whole half-seduced mind calling out to me that made me all the harder. It feels better when I don't have to manipulate that.
All the same, even with all that going for him, I probably could've kept the kitten from seducing me quite that badly. I mean, he twisted my damned head around until I was eating out of his hand, and I am not a docile creature. Not even for Brad. But he wanted more than a one-night stand, and he got it. He wanted the occasional bit of sweet talk, and he got it. Dinner and a movie? As long as it was in the apartment, or in another city, he got it. Two fucking months, he got pretty much every damned thing he wanted, except one.
And now he's got the 'one', and I'm no longer needed.
I stare at him, not quite sure I can believe my ears when I listen to this. He's picking another damned kitten over me. Another redhead, even... and this one can't even think unless that sword of his is so far up his ass it tickles his brainstem. But that's what he wants. I was apparently just a bump in the road... a fucking stepping stone for him. And he has the nerve to thank me for it. I wait until he leaves before I decide to get piss-ass drunk. Pretty sure there's some 'ifs' in there, but fuck them.
Oh, and hey Brad? Fuck you, too.