#he slept yesterday and took a cat nap the day prior

[synodicsoma]

Just mentally playing with the ideas of wereboof Stanley would randomly scoop up his family members, especially Stanford, at any given point, seeking affection, or stubbornly wants to "win" an argument.

With Mabel and Dipper he primarily uses the scruffing method since they're still relatively small ( even more so when he's a boof ) and a part of his wolf brain instincts making it feel natural to him. Another is tossing them in the air for them to plop onto his broad back so he can amble around with them.

Sadly the scruffing method isn't effective on his brother, too wiggly and escapes too easily because of all his layers of clothes. So, Stanley's primary method is to scoop and wrap his twin in a big ol hug and toddles off to the kitchen, Stanford's bedroom, or just forcing his brotherly love upon the unsuspecting nerd.

[aliceslantern]

Beyond this Existence: Counterpoint, chapter 9

Summary:  After being recompleted, Ienzo vows to do everything in his power to atone for the atrocities he committed in the past. But this life hasn't been easy, and he's plagued with memories and nightmares. When Demyx suddenly reappears, the two discover that they have more in common than they thought, though the secrets in their past might tear them apart. Zemyx (Demyx/Ienzo), post kh3

Read it on FF.net/ on AO3

As much as Ienzo tried to sleep, his mind kept spinning dizzily, emptily, with half-formed thoughts from the day before. Worry for Demyx and frustration over Data Sora mixed together in a pungent slurry. He counted his breaths, and tried to relax his muscles, but the effort of relaxing was actually worse than being tense, so he let it be.

He felt nauseous, so he did not eat. He went, instead, back to the computer, noticing for the first time just how messy the space was. Ansem had never been very organized. But Ienzo did not clean. He sat down and booted the program. It ran, but Data Sora still looked stiff, and awkward. He walked into a wall and stood there. Ienzo closed out of the program and sighed. He coughed a little. The air had always been insufferably dry in here, partially due to the machines, and spending so much time in here didn’t help.

Ienzo opened up Data Sora’s files. He hesitated a moment, and then opened up the code for “memories”.

This Sora had been given all the memories from the copies of Jiminy’s journals Ienzo received. Even that small amount seemed to stretch endlessly on the screen. Ansem had done a little bit of rigging to allow Data Sora to have access to Roxas’s programmed memories as well.

Ienzo drummed his fingers on the keyboard. An idea began to hatch behind his eyes. It was more of a risk than anything. He hesitated, then started copying a third version of the Data Sora. Even though this data was not human, and even though Ienzo would do it no harm with this code, he couldn’t help feel a twinge of guilt.

He started writing the code. Ansem’s language vastly simplified things, but it was all still complicated to try and get the renderings right. By the time he had something workable, his hands were shaking with nerves.

The model turned of its own accord. It looked up, around. The movements smooth, fluid.

He wrote a message to display on the Data Sora’s gummiphone. Do you remember me?

The model looked at the text for a moment. I think so, he wrote. You helped with Roxas, right? He texted the same way the real Sora had, without punctuation. Ienzo felt a little thrill. Of course. Of course. Without anyone to latch onto, how on earth would the Data Sora gain sentience? His new friendship with Ienzo had been enough.

Yes, I did.

Why am I in Twilight Town?

Ienzo breathed quickly. His heart was beating strangely, the rhythm off, but he attributed it to excitement. Twilight Town is safe, he wrote. But can you help me with something?

Of course. What is it?

I’m trying to find you. The real you.

I’m not real?

Ienzo sighed. You’re real, but you’re made of data.

Like Roxas when he was here.

Yes. The you that was not made of data has disappeared, and we’re trying to find you. Your friends all miss you , he added. Then, a bit more recklessly,  I miss you.

I miss you all too. But I don’t know how to help.

That’s okay. We can figure it out together.

Something warm was running down Ienzo’s face. At first he thought it might be sweat, but when he touched his chin his hand was bloody. He swore and pressed a cloth to his bleeding nose. He shut out the program.

He’d said he would rest when he’d made progress, and he had. Ienzo stood, noticing the ground pitched a little. How many days had it been since he’d slept? Two? He’d taken a nap yesterday, right? Or had it been the day before?

His heart was beating oddly again. The bleeding wasn’t slowing down, and he could feel it, wet and hot against his hand. This used to happen when he pulled consecutive all-nighters, but it had never been this bad before. The blood soaked his handkerchief. He was horrified, and yet also fascinated, to see the blood had stained his jacket as well. He felt giddy, dizzy. Very not good. He needed to sit down and rest. He was almost back to his room. He would get something sweet to raise his blood sugar. He would be fine.

“Are you alright?” Demyx asked. His voice startled Ienzo. “What happened?”

“Nosebleed. Very bad one. Nothing to worry about,” he said around the cloth pressed to his face. “Air too dry.”

His face was taut with worry. Demyx guided him over to a chair and made him sit. Ienzo was glad for the stability of the wood. He took the other clean handkerchief out of his pocket and replaced it with the old one. Demyx passed him a glass of orange juice. “Lean forward. You don’t want to swallow it," he said in an odd voice.

His heart was beating weirdly again. “It doesn’t usually take this long to stop.” The words came out of him without any forethought.

“Do you get them a lot?”

“Only when I… oh.” He was so frazzled he’d forgotten his promise to take care of himself.

Demyx’s lower lip twitched in disappointment. “Only when you overwork?” Demyx asked. “You haven’t rested at all since the last time I saw you, have you?”

Ienzo said nothing. He looked down at the cloth. The bleeding seemed to have finally subsided. He had a vicious headache. How long had he had it?

“Drink your juice,” Demyx said, with more than a little sharpness.

He sipped. The pain was worsening.

“You should lay down. Please.”

“I will,” Ienzo said. This time he really meant it. He didn't think he physically could do much else, and the humiliation of letting himself deteriorate this far sent a shudder through him. “I--” The pain flooded his vision with stars.

Demyx’s voice hitched with apparent anxiety. “Do you want me to get Even?”

The last thing he needed was to be told off. “No. I’ll be fine.” He just needed some sleep.

“You lost a lot of blood.”

“It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Ienzo tried to stand. His pulse was still off-beat. His knees gave out under him. His ears were ringing curiously, like he’d hit his head, but Demyx had caught him under the arms. He was barely aware of the touch. It was not like fainting; he could barely move. Dizziness curled the straight lines of the walls.

Pressure on his cheek. Demyx’s voice sounded like it was underwater. “Hey. Hey, Ienzo. Talk to me. Squeeze my hand.” Try as he might, he couldn’t. The world felt and tasted slippery, and things clipped in and out of awareness at an alarming rate. He found himself being carried, his cheek pressed against Demyx’s chest, and then he was lying on his bed which was blessedly soft. He could only vaguely hear Demyx and Even talking. Pinpricks of pain as Even stuck him with medicine. At least his heart rate wasn’t so weirdly off anymore. He could move a little, could twitch open his eyes, though his sight was blurry. “Demyx?”

Pressure on his hand. His teal eyes were full of worry and concern. Or were they green?

“What--” He tried to ask.

“You passed out. I am going to yell at you when you get better. Just a warning. I can be scary.” He tried to offer a smile, but it fell flat.

Ienzo’s eyes were wet. He had scarcely been so dehydrated and yet somehow he was crying.

Demyx kissed his forehead. “You’re going to be okay. You just have to get some sleep. I’ll be right here.”

He let his eyes fall shut. A blanket was tucked around him. Had it always been this soft? He was so tired… had he been sedated? And yet it felt so lovely...

Watery words. “So. That is the nature of your connection with Ienzo. He has mentioned you an awful lot. But I must admit I am flabbergasted. What is it you two even have in common?”

Ienzo had just enough sense left to acknowledge that the cat was out of the bag. Yet he found it something of a relief.

“I don’t know. But I… I care about him. And I think he feels the same about me.”

There was a little flutter of warmth in his breast. Was this real? Was he half asleep? Did it matter?

“It is not up to me any longer to try and stop that boy from making mistakes. But if this ends poorly… you realize there will be hell to pay.”

“Yes. I know.”

“That is all I have to say about that. At least until I process this. I am much too tired. I’ll come back to check on him. If there’s any unusual change, notify me at once.”

“I will.”

More pressure on his hand. To be warm and cared for wasn’t all that bad.

Sleep. At last.

Ienzo woke up slowly. His muscles ached, but he was feeling better. His vision was clear, and he could move freely.

“Hey,” he heard. “Nice nap?”

Ienzo looked up at Demyx. He rubbed his eyes; they were tender and raw. An IV line snaked from his hand to a bag of fluid. No wonder he was so sore; dehydration and a probable potassium deficiency had settled in overnight. “You’re still here?”

He sat at the foot of the bed. “Well, of course. You scared the crap out of me.” He didn't look well either. His eyes--definitely teal, not green--were bloodshot, and he held himself stiffly.

Ienzo glanced down at his shirt, faintly stained with blood. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I… I should have listened.”

“Why don’t you trust me?”

“I do trust you,” Ienzo said.

“Then why didn’t you listen?”

He looked out the window. “I thought I was so close to a solution,” he said. “And… when Roxas and the others visited, seeing their faces so full of hope… and knowing that I gave it to them… I could not in good conscience take myself away.”

“Okay, but, you know if you had gone much longer without sleep, or even water , you might not have woken up.”

Having rested some, Ienzo knew he was right. Prior to collapsing he’d been experiencing serious symptoms of both exhaustion and dehydration, and he’d written them off, too disoriented to recognize them for what they were. Guilt made him cold.  “Is it true what you said?”

“What?”

“To Even.”

“You… you heard all that?” He gritted his teeth a little.

“Yes.”

He turned pink.  “Yeah. It is. I care about you.” Demyx touched Ienzo’s cheek. “Why else would I get up in Ansem’s face?”

“You… did that?” He blanched.

“Yep. And he says I’m right. You’re going to rest. You and I are going to hardcore chill for at least a week. You’re going to learn from the expert.”

“A week away from my work? With you? That might be…” He was clearly too scattered to be able to adequately take care of himself, and he would not put himself through the shame of this again. He nodded. “That might be manageable.”

Demyx kissed him once, lightly. “I’m glad you think so, because unfortunately it’s out of your hands. Doctor’s orders. Well… is Ansem a doctor?”

Ienzo shrugged. “He has at least one doctorate. I’m unsure if it’s in medicine.”

“Yeah. Well, either way, I’m right.”

Ienzo stretched. “I should like to clean up and change. Perhaps eat. I slept for so long but I could very nearly go back to sleep.”

“You need it. Do what your body wants.”

He nodded. After a moment’s pause, he kissed Demyx again. “I have missed you.”

Demyx squeezed his hand. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He removed the IV line, ate a good meal, bathed to wash off the blood, and went back to sleep before his hair was even dry. He slept and slept and didn’t dream, and when he woke up he was surprised at the lack of aches and pains. If he remained an insomniac after this, he would swallow his pride and ask for medication. It was not worth the toll it was taking on him. He was also ravenously hungry; it was the first time he’d felt real hunger in a long time. His clothing, when he dressed, was noticeably loose. He needed to gain some weight back. He looked down at the pile of clothing from the other day. His favorite gray sweater vest seemed to be ruined, and he sighed. It had been a long time since he'd felt comfortable in his clothing.

Demyx was already in the kitchen, drinking coffee. “Oh hey, you don’t look like a zombie anymore,” Demyx said.

“I do feel quite a lot better,” he admitted. “Not… good, but better.”

Demyx made them both breakfast. The food was simple, but Ienzo was so hungry that it tasted good. Appetite at last somewhat sated, Demyx asked, “So what do you want to do today?”

The question threw him. He’d never had much opportunity to play as a child, and as a teenager usually when he’d had free time he’d read. Not very exciting. “I’ve really… no idea,” he said. “I think we have different ideas what constitutes leisure.”

Demyx snapped his fingers. “I think I’ve got it. First thing we’re going to do is go back to bed.”

His face burned. He didn’t mean--? Not possibly--?

Demyx’s eyes widened in panic. “Not like that! God, get your mind out of the gutter, Ienzo. Haven’t you ever spent the day in bed?”

Oh. That. He was mostly relieved, but at the same time, disappointed. There was no way he was ready for something like... that. The longing was so exhaustively potent. “Well--maybe when I was very ill.”

“Maybe that’s what you need. Sometimes it’s good to just do nothing. ”

“That sounds… very nearly boring,” Ienzo said.

“Kinda the point. You gotta give your brain a rest. Away from all the stimuli.”

“Okay. I’ll try,” he said. “If only because my critical thinking feels dangerously frazzled.”

“That’s the spirit.”

They returned to his room. There was just enough room on the bed that they didn’t have to touch. Ienzo settled back down against the pillows. “So we just do nothing ,” he repeated. It sounded bizarre. What was he to do? Count the ceiling tiles?

“Yeah. Well, I mean, I guess you could read, or something. But nothing strenuous.” He got back up and turned towards the bookshelf. Demyx hesitated over the titles and picked at the first book in Ienzo’s favorite childhood series.  “What about this one?”

Ienzo cracked a smile. “That one? I haven’t read it since I was a boy. It’s a silly fantasy story.” He'd meant to pack it away when he removed his childhood things in the initial cleaning. He'd told himself that there was no room elsewhere for it. There was no shame in holding onto the sentimental. He was just so unaccustomed to the practice.

“All the more reason to revisit it now. And besides, there’s got to be a reason you’ve kept it.”

“All right… well… I suppose…” It was gleefully immature, not exactly a challenge to read. Demyx settled a bit closer to him so they could both see the text. Ienzo, having tread this series many times, skimmed it lightly and quickly. He knew it all beat-for-beat. Revisiting it, though, with an adult perspective, was interesting. It was always children saving the world, even in fiction. Children being jeopardized. Would it have made a difference, if he'd known what was coming?

Demyx frowned. “Can you go back? I missed that whole part.”

“Oh. Yes, of course.” He flipped back. “I have a better idea.”

He read aloud. The author’s poetic, sing-songy language felt good in his mouth, and he read eagerly. He leaned back, trying to get more comfortable, and found himself resting against Demyx. With the reading as distraction, it didn’t make him as anxious as it might have. Demyx's arm curled around his waist tentatively.

He read through the first five or so chapters and was dreadfully thirsty. “Throat’s dry,” he said, and reached for the glass of water at the bedside table. He set the book aside and found he hadn’t minded touching like that. It was a different kind of intimacy, soothing a different need of his that seemed to have bloomed along with his humanity. To crave touch was entirely natural. Though to say his ravaged psyche came from not being hugged enough was entirely reductive. “Yes. I… think I could do with a week of this.” He let himself settle more comfortably into the embrace.

For a long time they held each other. Demyx stroked his hair. He hadn’t ever been held like this; maybe as a very small child. And really this was very different than that. He felt as though it were too much and not enough, like his skin was thirsty. His hands shook. Though as the minutes passed, the tension eased. The sleepy, comfortable tenderness of the moment lulled him into a sort of daze, and the next thing he knew he was waking up. They’d both slipped down against the pillows.

“We fell asleep,” Ienzo said softly. He cracked his neck and then winced at the crick.

“Just a nap, I think.”

Yet more sleep? He was supposed to be resting, he reminded himself. It was okay. His limbs felt warm, somewhat slack. Was it the medication Even had given him? “I feel… soft, if that makes sense.” He ran his fingers through his hair to fix it, shook his head, and let it be a lost cause.

“Because you’re actually relaxing for once. All that tension you carry around all the time isn’t supposed to be there. The fact that this feels unfamiliar to you is more than a little concerning.”

“Times like this make me uncomfortably aware of my unusual upbringing,” he said with a shake of his head. “Maybe I was wrong about you. In the Organization, I mean. Maybe you weren’t as lazy as I thought.”

Demyx laughed. “No, I was. I really was.”

“Not so much anymore.” This version of Demyx hadn't shirked from anything that Ienzo had witnessed. Perhaps his new heart was instilling a lost sense of ambition.

“I wouldn’t go that far. You haven’t been around a whole lot lately. You don’t know what I get up to.”

“What is it you do all day?”

He shrugged. “Just kinda wander,” Demyx said. “Through the castle. Through town. I like exploring.”

“As do I. Part of the reason why I always looked forward to reconnaissance missions. People are so very fascinating . But now… it seems like I need a better understanding of myself. How do I synthesize Zexion and Ienzo? At some point do I draw a line between the two? How much of him still lives in me?” He did not feel the same, even though they wore the same face. How long had he sat, inactive, cruelly planning the Organization's next takeover? Unwilling to dirty his own hands? There was only so much an emotionless childhood could excuse.

“I think about the same thing every day,” Demyx admitted. “I feel like the last month or so has been one very long, very tedious identity crisis.” Doubly so, for him; he didn't even have memory to draw off of.

““Tedious” surely is the right word for it.”

“Stressful.”

“Wrenching.”

“Annoying.”

Ienzo smiled. “I’m glad you understand.”

“‘Course I do.”

Ienzo hesitated for a moment, then threw his arms around Demyx. The want was back, and stronger, and he was just so tired of denying himself things. Ienzo looked up at him. “May I ki--”

But Demyx, who had already picked up the hint, was already kissing him. This wasn’t just physical, Ienzo realized, though that was potent. They cared for each other, perhaps deeply. And after that whole episode of exhaustion, he needed someone to look out for him. He needed that in order to grow, to be better, to be more conscious and to not make the same mistakes. And that was okay. It was okay. There shouldn't be shame in needing to be cared for every now and again.

These revelations shook away the worst of the anxiety, and while his hands shook, it wasn’t from panic. He felt at the muscles along Demyx’s back, strong and soft. Ienzo’s body felt like a live wire. To feel so much all at once was both strange and divine. He felt himself getting aroused. Admittedly it was startling, but he choked the fear down. Demyx would not hurt him. This, too, was natural. Part of being human.

Demyx kissed him along his jaw and throat, and he heard himself gasp. “Let me know if you want to stop,” Demyx whispered.

“I don’t.” Little slivers of pleasure bloomed against his skin. Every time he thought he had a grasp on this, it seemed to reach out of view.

Demyx rested against him, his head against his heart. He trembled faintly. Ienzo realized he was not the only one feeling all this for the first time.

“You’re shaking.”

His voice was high and breathless. “Am I? I feel so much --”

“I do too.” He kissed him first this time, catching the hem of Demyx’s shirt and pulling it off, only to have his own sweater removed. He could see the scars all along his chest. Demyx brushed a finger along Ienzo’s own. “It’s how I passed,” he said quietly. “As a Nobody.”

He kissed them. Ienzo pulled him even closer, and in response Demyx drew him down against the bed. Pressed up against one another like this, Ienzo felt the warmth of their bodies, especially between their legs, and the hardness, startling and bizarre and yet also tantalizing. For a moment--not nearly long enough--they touched each other freely. Ienzo knew he wasn’t ready for whatever came next, as much as he wanted it. It had taken so much work just to get to this point.

“I can’t. I want to, but I--” he said.

Demyx looked relieved rather than frustrated. “I know. Me too. It’s just so… much. I thought I was ready. But I…” He lay back down on the bed next to Ienzo, and shifted away so that they weren’t touching.

Ienzo was surprised he could still speak. But the only thing he could think of to ask was, “...Does it hurt?”

Demyx blinked. “Does it--you mean--?”

Without making eye contact, and with the strange new pressure between his legs, he nodded.

“No. I mean, it’s uncomfortable the first time, a little, but it doesn’t hurt.”

“So you’ve done it, then?”

“...A few times. Not that much.” He sat up, blushing. “To clarify, we’re talking about sex, right? Not astrophysics? Because if that’s the case I’m hopeless.”

Ienzo laughed.

“Like I said. When we’re ready. If we’re ready. I shouldn’t assume--”

“When,” Ienzo said quietly.

[kingerosier]

I’d do anything | Evan & Alina

@alinamalfoyxx

There were few things that felt better than sleeping in your own bed, according to Evan Rosier. It was a newly formed opinion for a man who before preferred any bed aside from his, but lately any adventure that took him away from his home for too long was one that he wanted no part of. There was something comforting about his flat, with his things, his pets, and his girlfriend. It was a comfort Evan had never truly experienced prior to his relationship with Alina, and one he had no idea he was missing out on.

A lot of things had changed since the end of July whether Evan wanted to admit it or not. His mother had taken ill again, his father had forced the family business upon him, he and Antonin were no longer bachelors, and Penny was expecting. July seemed like yesterday though it was truly worlds away from his life now, and he was okay with that. He enjoyed his new life which no longer consisted flying out of the country at a whim’s notice, instead he went to work and came home to someone he cared deeply for. It was odd how much he had grown up without really making an effort.

There was one thing that had not changed for Evan Rosier and that was his feelings on a certain Alina Malfoy. His eyes still softened when they found her in a room and his heart still skipped a beat when waking next to her. She was his confidante and one of the few people Evan felt close to. Their relationship had been subject to much scrutiny but it hadn’t changed anything between the pair. He was still the doe-eyed boy who wanted just one more minute of her attention. Some things would never change.

The pair had returned from Iceland and Evan was aware that Alina was disappointed by the uneventful trip. He had been dropping far too many hints for her to believe they’d actually leave vacation without a ring on her finger, however she had and now two days after their trip she was still ringless. To be fair, she had been a good sport about the whole thing. It was cruel for Evan to act like this and aside from being unusually quiet there wasn’t much change in her demeanor. Evan had expected her to be much sulkier, the plan had never been to propose in Iceland-it would have been far too predictable. 

His plan was actually not predictable at all. He was going to catch Alina Malfoy off guard if it was the last thing he did. Some things deserved to be a surprise and this was one of them. So all hints of a proposal had ceased the moment the plane had left and instead was replaced by normal behavior. Today had been almost too normal. They’d slept into late morning, cooked breakfast, and spent the day editing photos from their trip to post on Benjygram later. He had taken a nap and Alina had gone to the store. Nothing particularly special about a Tuesday afternoon, though little did Alina knew it was really just getting started.

Awaking from a nap with Walter lying on the ground next to the couch and Leia stretched across his abdomen, Evan carefully removed the cat before standing up. “Al?” he called rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he made his way through their flat, “I was going to order food, are you hungry?”