De Liebe und Faust

Disclaimer: Don’t own anything from Shaman King. I only do this for my entertainment and for the entertainment of others. (Duh...)
Note: Well, this is different for me. My first heterosexual pairing... yay for me! Faust is by far my favorite Shaman King character, and I really like the idea of him and Eliza, which is rare because I usually only like yaoi. But any who, here we are, and I hope you enjoy!!

Die Liebe und Faust


Faust was sitting at his desk, writing by candlelight. He had been writing for hours, and now it was close to sunrise. He had been scribbling down medical notes, things he had noticed in his travels and needed to record. He would always stay up like this, and by this point in his life he could function fairly well without it. But his lack of sleep was beginning to catch up to him now, and his lids began to droop shut. He didn’t want to sleep though, it hurt too much to dream of her.

Faust looked up and gazed at the skull of his love laying on a soft, purple velvet pillow on his dresser. The candlelight was casting menacing shadows through the eye sockets, making the skull look almost alive. Faust let out a sigh and wished for the millionth time that Eliza was still with him, that he could hold her in his arms and kiss her sweet lips. But fate was a cruel mistress, and Eliza was taken from him forever. Well, maybe not forever. If he became Shaman King, then he could bring her back. It was all he ever thought about.

Faust stood from his seat and walked to the dresser. He gently stroked the skull, running his fingers over the smooth contours and then over the gaping bullet hole. The memories of finding her body came flooding into his mind. He could remember coming home, just knowing something was amiss. He rushed to the house, and that’s when he noticed the broken glass. He threw open the door and ran into the house, calling Eliza’s name. He looked all over before he finally found her already decaying body lying in a pool of blood, a gaping hole in her beautiful head. He could remember staring in disbelief, his mind still trying to deny her death even in the face of it. He ran to her, and drew her up into his arms. She was cold, and rigor mortise had already began to set in. Her blood stained his clothes, but he barely noticed. He held her for hours like that, just crying and yelling indiscernible curses at no one.

The memory made his heart ache, and tears began to sting his eyes. He needed Eliza, now more than ever. His mana began to swirl about him, and he grabbed the skull tenderly and moved to a curtained area near the far wall. He tugged the cord and the flaps parted, displaying a skeleton devoid of it’s head. He carefully placed the skull onto the neck, and infused his mana into Eliza’s remains. The bare bones began to grow flesh, and long golden hair began to grow in ringlets from her head. Eliza formed before his eyes, and after a few moments she appeared like she had been all those years ago before she was murdered.

Eliza stood unmoving, a perfect copy of what she had been, and Faust couldn’t stop himself as he brought his lips to hers. He kissed her tenderly, but he didn’t feel any warmth from the reanimated body. He doubted his own lips held any warmth now either. He was practically a walking corpse himself, being made of different skin and bones not his own. Permanent anesthetic ran through his veins, numbing his body to any kind of pain. But it had no effect on his heart, which after all these years was still torn from his loss. After Eliza died, he became obsessed with being the Shaman King. It kept him going, it was his only reason for being.

He clasped Eliza’s hand, and brought it to his face. Tears now streamed freely down his cheeks, and one salty drop fell silently onto her cold flesh. Her eyes were dull and lifeless, and didn’t even register anything around her. She was a husk of his dearest love, and he knew it. But he couldn’t part with Eliza just yet. He had spent his whole life with her and being without her now would be impossible. He knew deep down that it was twisted, him walking around with the body of his wife tucked into a trench coat or having her corpse walk alongside him. No one seemed to notice she was dead, even though she had a blank stare and her complexion had no sheen. It didn’t matter, as long as she was there in some form or another.

Faust, still clasping her hand, led her to the bed. He lied down and gestured for Eliza to join him. She complied without hesitation, and laid down beside him. They were facing each other, just like they did when they were married and happy. Faust moved closer and wrapped his arms around her petite waist, trying to ignore how hard she felt to him. He kissed her again, but slowly moved his tongue past her pasty lips, trying to recall what she had tasted like. He didn’t taste anything from her now, just a cool nothingness like water. He moved closer, his hand sliding down her waist and up under her nurse’s skirt. He closed his eyes as he tried to imagine Eliza beside him as his fingers brushed her most intimate of areas, before sliding his fingers inside her. It was damp, and slightly warm, but nothing like a living person. His eyes scrunched tighter as he began to slide his digits in and out, trying to coax the body to react. But it was no use, he knew she wouldn’t.

With tears still in his eyes he slowly began to remove his pants, throwing them over the side of the bed. He crawled on top of Eliza, and ran his hands through her golden hair. How he loved her hair; it was silk running through his fingers, and he could almost recall the sweet flowery scent of her locks as he lowered to give her another kiss. Her mouth was already open from the previous one, and her lips were moist as he kissed her more passionately, pulling her skirt from her slender hips. The white garment was flung to the ground, and Faust began to unbutton her shirt to expose her breasts. They were just how he remembered; not too small, but not too large either. They were perfect in his eyes, like everything else about her. He gently fondled one, running his thumb over the pink peak before bending to suckle it. He didn’t know why he persisted in doing this, but he supposed it was so he didn’t feel so disgusted by the act.

After several more moments of licking, he withdrew from the teased nipple, trailing kisses up her chest before stopping at her neck. He nibbled slightly at the flesh there as he pried her legs apart with his knee, settling himself comfortably between her pale legs. His now fully erected member twitched as it brushed against her inner thigh, and he moaned against her neck as he inched his way inside her.

Even though it lacked heat, it was still tight, and Faust thrust himself fully inside her, a gasp escaping his lips as he started to rock into her unmoving body.

He closed his eyes again to try and picture Eliza and how she would look when they made love, how her hair would be disheveled and flowing around her head like a halo, and how her whole body would be flushed the most luscious of pink. How she would wrap her arms around him as he pushed into her, and how she would cry his name when he made her climax. The thoughts alone were driving him now, the sweet memories overriding the morbid reality as he continued to drive into her.

He could feel himself on the brink, a white hot pooling in the pit of his stomach foretelling his eminent release. His thrusts increased as he raised her legs up, placing them over his shoulders as he gained even more depth. He remembered how much love as in her eyes when they were together, how she would say she loved him, and that drove him over the edge, and he came hard into the semi-warm body, collapsing on top of the still unaffected Eliza. He snuggled his head into her neck, warming it with his breath as he felt his lids start to close. But before he fell into sleep he pulled away from her, wrapping them both in the soft wool of a blanket. He pulled her close to him again, feeling more than ever the eternal loneliness he was to suffer until he achieved his goal.

“I love you Eliza.” He said in barely a whisper as sun began to rise over the German mountainside. He slowly drifted off to sleep, while Eliza lay prostrate next to him, not moving or even closing her eyes. Faust called her name in his sleep, and gripped her tighter. He looked like a little child in his slumber, and slept for many hours as he continued to dream of what was, and what could have been.

A/N: Well, that was kind of short, but oh well. I tried to get in all that I wanted to, and I think I did. To think that my first hetero fic would involve necrophilia; it’s kind of funny. I hoped you liked it, and please leave a review if you feel so inclined. I’d appreciate it. Oh, and the title means, “the love of Faust” or something to that extent. I’ve had three different German people tell me three different ways on how to write it, so even if it is wrong or something, I’m not changing it. So yeah. Thanks again!!