#ive been missing zemyx

[penixels]

Good riddance the demyx parallels are insane

[aliceslantern]

Heartlines, a Kingdom Hearts fanfic, chapter 20--Zexion

Twelve years ago, Xemnas betrayed the royal court of Radiant Garden to his father, Xehanort. Prince Ienzo flees to another city and begins university in the aftermath, hoping the anonymity will protect him from eager eyes with ill intent. The darkness spilling across the country, as well as an individual from his past, cut short Ienzo's new beginning and bring new conflicts to light. Strained between the desires of his magic and his heart, Ienzo's choice will change him forever.

Modern Fantasy AU, Soulmates, Zemyx. Updates Fridays until it's done.

Chapter summary:  Ienzo continues to play into Xehanort's hands, and finds an old ally in the process.

Read it on FF.net/on AO3

---

It took time to earn Xehanort’s trust--perhaps too much. But then again, considering Ienzo had suffered “twelve years of indoctrination with propaganda”, it was surprising the man began to trust him at all.

Two weeks after his initial arrival at the castle, his milk dried up completely, an ache so intense he felt it inside of his still-deadened magic. Amalia would be six weeks old. His arms felt so empty without her. He hoped that she was safe, healthy, that Demyx was with her. He had to believe this for his sanity.

Ienzo had to be clever. He was shocked at how easily deception came to him--deception that had never been used to do anything more than hide when Even sought him. He pretended to take an intense interest in “Ansem”’s research. And to be honest, he was interested, but not in the way he let on.

“Darkness is intrinsic in every heart,” the man told him. Ienzo was joining them for meals now. “If we can draw out that darkness… we can give people power. Help them shed their bonds of tyranny.”

“But it seems there’s some kind of transmutative property to darkness which is mostly unpredictable,” Ienzo said carefully. “How do you plan on controlling that?”

“I have several tests running which may illuminate such things,” Ansem said, and elaborated no more.

Ienzo swallowed. “I see. Perhaps you may… let me see some of this research. I wonder if my power might provide some sort of… insight.” He continued to eat, as casually as possible.

“Perhaps,” he said. “I’m sure its absence must make you feel blind. You do understand why we had to do things this way, yes?”

Ienzo smiled. “Of course. Were I in your shoes I’m sure I would’ve done the same.” He decided to take the risk. “What… did you do, if you don’t mind my asking?”

Ansem grinned back. “Placed a limiter upon you,” he said. “A self-replicating injectable. Given time… I’m sure my father would consent for you to receive its antidote.”

Ienzo tried not to show his horror. “Quite.”

Once a week or so, Xehanort requested an “audience” with Ienzo. He seemed to be selecting places he thought would be most important to Ienzo; the gardens, the main library, his father’s study. And they were; seeing how they had been perverted seemed like a personal slight. But Ienzo had to be cordial, polite, accommodating. Instead he forced himself to thank him for allowing him this much “freedom.”

They were being served tea in the rose garden one afternoon. It was a bit too cold to be outside, and Ienzo hadn’t been given a coat, just a sweater. There were two heaters hovering around, but they didn’t do much.

“I must thank you for your patience,” Xehanort said smoothly. “I know this must not be easy for you, to be treated a prisoner in your own home.”

“I thought I was a…” He took a deliberate pause here. “Guest.”

Xehanort chuckled. “A guest in a locked, warded walk-in closet?”

“...Your words, not mine.”

He picked up his cup. True to Lydia’s word, all of his family preferred things dark, sour, and bitter; Ienzo wondered if they could not taste well due to the darkness. “I would like nothing more than to allow you run of the castle, to give you quarters more… suitable for someone of your status.”

“But you don’t trust me.”

“My sons don’t trust you,” Xehanort said. “ I think you were a little boy misled by people who supposedly cared about you. No. You have been nothing but tolerant of how we’ve treated you, questioning nothing.”

“Over the intervening years… I’ve been treated worse,” he said pleasantly. It was time to lie, and lie big.

This got his attention. “Have you, my dear prince?”

“Oh, yes. Quite often we’ve stayed in… places of ill repute, in cities crawling with danger. My guardians… coddled me endlessly, would not allow me the freedom to make my own choices. They said it was for my safety.” He tutted. “But do they truly wish for me to be king, if I am not allowed to make choices? Or am I… a puppet?”

Xehanort’s face organized itself into something he must’ve thought pity. “What would you have chosen, then?” he asked. “Xemnas said you were rather distraught, that night, when Even was injured.”

“Isn’t any child distraught when seeing violence for the first time? I did care about him then,  I won’t lie.”

“Do you, now?”

Ienzo sighed. “I’m sure your son must have told you stories of their years working together. Even is… hard to read. It’s hard to tell what he wants, what his intentions truly are. He is quite a master manipulator, Xehanort. I don’t know what I should believe.”

Xehanort smiled widely. “I think you’re allowed to decide what you believe now, child.”

Hook, line, sinker.

---

Soon after, Ienzo was moved from that small, enclosed room to his old bedroom. Seeing it was like a small gut-punch of memory. Had this space always been so open, the bed so exposed? It was smaller than he remembered, but larger than anywhere else he’d stayed in all this time. The bed was a king, four-poster, neatly made in violet silk, thin curtains tied back to each post. There was a large white marble fireplace with flowers carved all along it, a small chaise nearby. A sitting room adjoined this space, with a writing desk, a table to take his meals, three of the walls lined with bookshelves and storage; the fourth was mostly windowed. The bathroom, too, seemed large and exposed, too much light. Admittedly it was much more comfortable to wait in these rooms. At least he had the luxury of pacing, of books.

As much as he could, Ienzo researched. It seemed like a lot of the textbooks his father had given him had been removed, leaving spaces like missing teeth. Books about the science and theory behind magic… the fairy tales.

Time was passing.

His longing for his daughter and Demyx only seemed to be getting stronger. He knew he was missing the small moments, the important ones, moments crucial to her development. He didn’t even have the peace of his pendant, considering he’d taken it off that evening before bed. Being polite, kind to them--especially the youngest--was wearing. More than once he cried in the shower, and now and again there was the fleeting thought of what it might feel like to “fall” out the window. But it was never more than a passing impulse. He would see Amalia again, even if it killed him. He repeated it to himself, constantly, a manta. He would hold her, smell her. Play with her.

But Ienzo played into their palms wonderfully. He expressed curiosity about darkness, he yes’ed them to death when it came to their ideals. He complimented “Ansem”. When Xehanort offered him the new “name,” he knew it was a major sign of trust. Still, hearing that clunky X thrown into the name he had chosen so carefully felt like another stab to the self.

He needed to get down to the lab, desperately, but the few times he asked he was so politely told no. Ienzo took vociferous notes of whatever he was told, carving them between the lines of his storybooks. He left thin pencil leads among the spines to see if anyone was snooping through his things; it seemed like they weren’t, as they never broke.

He needed his power back. If he had his power, he could sneak down into the lab. There were no other computers connected to the OS that had Tron; he checked as soon as he was allowed to, but the computers Ienzo could access just had the basic office programs, editing programs, things of that ilk, as well as the Internet. Using that, too, was just about useless; he knew that Even had likely taken them off the grid again. And all social media was blocked, preventing him from getting any messages to any of his other friends. He wondered about physical letters. Maybe Lydia might pass something on for him? But he didn’t quite trust her yet, either, despite the fact that she seemed to be his devoted maid, and she hadn't exposed the fact he'd had a child. If he had the power, he could sense her intentions. Everything hinged on performing well enough to get the magic back.

Fall deepened into winter. He’d forgotten what these coastal winters were like, wind howling against the windows, making every room freezing despite the double-paned windows and the fireplaces.

Every now and again Xehanort, or one of his sons, would not-so-subtly pry for information about Ansem, about the resistance. Ienzo told them the rare truth in this case; he had no idea where Ansem was or what he was up to. He also said that Even had refused to tell him anything about the resistance. He kept his answers as consistent as possible, fully aware this was why they kept asking.

It seemed that several things happened in quick succession. “Ansem” deigned to give him his power back; Xehanort wanted to reintroduce him to the public; and someone else he’d nearly forgotten entered his life.

“You’ve been gracious,” Ansem told him. “My father agrees that there’s no point in suppressing your power further, lest we cause it undue harm.”

So Ienzo was led downstairs, so temptingly close to that lab, was laid onto a narrow gurney and strapped down. “What are--”

Ansem started an IV. “The serum works theoretically . But I don’t know for sure how it reacts inside a human body. This is… mostly for your own safety. Can’t have you falling and hitting that precious head of yours.”

Was that sarcasm?

“Don’t you trust me, Zexion?” Ansem purred. “There. Now be a good boy and try not to move.”

Something cold and stinging entered the port Ansem had placed in his hand; it felt like ice water being injected inside Ienzo’s veins. He jerked without meaning to.

“Stillness, boy.”

The cold crept down all along his body, a sharp shattering pain. Ienzo wondered briefly if he were simply being poisoned before he felt a heaviness in the pit of his being, something being lifted and dragged out of him. The serum made his muscles spasm, and he found himself grateful for the restraints. A pained noise left him.

“There, there, Zexion. Not much farther.”

The coldness worsened. He felt as though he could barely breathe, his magic straining against the limiter in his body, breaking it apart. Ienzo could feel dampness and realized it was his own sweat. He felt a mask being placed against his face and jumped before he realized it was just oxygen.

He thought he might shatter, his back arching against the bed. The magic bled back into his body, nearly as painful as when Amalia had separated from him. The pain peaked suddenly, and he blacked out.

---

Ienzo woke slowly.

He was in the infirmary of the castle. Something felt… off, about his body, and he realized it was because the heavy dead wrongness he’d carried all these months was gone. The magic sat under his skin, pregnantly. The serum had worked. There was still an oxygen mask on his face, an IV in his hand. It hurt to move; every bit of him was sore.

“...Why don’t you be a good little boy and rest?”

Ienzo jerked. He recognized the feel of this person, his voice. He tried to speak.

The man came into the range of his sighted eye. “Easy,” he said softly. “Easy, Zexion. ”

Ienzo swallowed. His mouth was so dry. In front of him was “...Braig.” No more than a whisper.

“These days I go by Xigbar, but whatever floats your boat.” He sat on the plastic chair near the bed.

“You look…”

He chuckled. “Like shit?”

“...Different.” He did. His hair was much longer, half-streaked through with white; Ienzo could not tell if he’d aged prematurely, or if it were something else. But then he saw his gold eye, his pointed ears. The eyepatch. “This whole time you’ve been… here?”

“Past thirteen years, kiddo.” He leaned back and crossed his legs. “Good help is hard to come by. All I had to do was swear allegiance to the old man. Would you believe he let me? But after all, I was around you, your old man for years. Figured I’d have to know something.”

Xigbar was hard to read. “So you decided to pay my sickbed a visit?”

“Soon as I heard. They’ve kept word of you being here hush-hush. But there’s a sweet little old lady who thought I’d like to know.”

Lydia. Ienzo swallowed.

“Don’t know what you’re trying to get at. Don’t know that I need to know, either.” He leaned forward a little. “Aren’t you handsome now? Just like your daddy.” A pause. “I guard the old man too.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Come on, kid. You and me were always pot-stirrers.” A laugh. “I don’t believe that’s changed. Not one bit.”

“Why not sell me out, then?”

“Bluntly? Because I don’t think anything’s going to get accomplished here, in the long run. Not by him. I’ve heard that darkness is affecting the farmland. Meaning food. Meaning the planet itself.” His expression became serious. “I don’t know about you, but I like to eat.”

Ienzo furrowed his brows.

“Look, if you need something, I can probably get it to you,” he continued.

“Why should I trust you haven’t been converted, too?”

“Come on, princey. Can’t you feel I’m telling the truth, or whatever?”

He could.

“Besides, according to the old tales… too much darkness, and the planet cracks like an egg.” He clutched his fist. “Don’t want to be there for that, either.”

“...I see.”

A substantial pause. Ienzo knew his cover had been blown at this point. “There’s something else.”

“And that is?”

A slow smile. “A little birdie told me that your family’s trying to find you. So I did some seeking of my own.”

Ienzo tried to hide the surprise on his face.

“They were hard to find. It took me months. Even’s still one clever bastard. I was playing poker one night in some dive bar when someone recognized me… and thought I might like to know you were still alive. He told me all about your little love story. Mazel tov, by the way. She's a cute kid.”

The words exploded from him. “They’re alive?”

“Alive and well.”

A relief he hadn’t quite let himself feel washed through him. “You’ll help me?”

“I’d love to wipe the stupid smirk off Junior’s face. It was his fault this happened to me.” He pointed to his eye. “They used us as experiments.”

“...They just used me as one. But it was necessary.” He sat up slowly. “Could you tell my family…” He hesitated. “Tell them to trust me. ”

Xigbar’s grin was wicked.

[fairyharps]

hello!! i just finished kh3 so below are my thoughts. obviously, spoiler warning if you havent finished the game.

first of all...... wow!!!!!!!!!! its real!!!!!!! i held the game in my own hands and played it!!!!!!!!! 12 year old me has been screaming non stop since the release im in a fog of emotion. every time i started up the game and heard that new kh3 rendition of dearly beloved with the ocean waves i just absolutely lost it

however, in the end, i feel mixed. i guess the hype over the years built up to an astronomical amount and while the game was incredibly fun and beautiful and i love seeing the story finally pan out into the finale, in a way it also felt very short? as of writing the first few paragraphs here i have just started san fransokyo, so i havent seen the actual finale, but these are my current thoughts and i will update this as i play. i still feel like there is so much more that is going to happen and ive barely even scratched the surface

theres a lot of new information that got me going WILD. piecing everything together & theorizing is always something i find fun about kingdom hearts since its so unpredictable. in fact i got so into it i had to start taking notes and making diagrams. i love a game that makes me bust out a notebook. (i do this for hm/sos/stardew and acnl as well lmao)

also every single time ienzo came on screen i went absolutely HOG WILD. when he laughed? the little laugh?? his smile?????? just thinking about it now is making me misty eyed fellas i love my boy

the implication that demyx, luxord (was his name always pronounced luke-sord??? i always said luck-sord wtf), and obviously marluxia and larxene's somebodies are from before the keyblade war is out of control!!!! vexen and demyx being double agents for ansem the wise?? ANSEM THE WISE'S REUNION WITH IENZO!!!!!!!!?????????? also zemyx is real sdfjsdlkfjsdlkfsdlkfjsdlkf jk

uHHHHHHH VENTUS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! MY BABY MY SONION!!!!!!!! AND AQUA!!!!!!!!!! I'M SO EMOTIONAL!!!!!!!!!!!! im honestly losing my mind everything is coming together aaaaaaaaaaaa literally seeing ventus looking SO BEAUTIFUL is making me lose my mind AND UHH AQUA.... REALIZING SHES IN THE WORLD OF LIGHT...........DAMN U NOMURA FOR MAKING ME FEEL

S-SAIX................................. I LOVE EVERYONE!!!!!!!!!!

i felt very mixed about the paopu sharing scene. while i know this ship was always going to be endgame, i really hate how little development it actually gets throughout the Whole Series so instead it feels So forced. that scene is bone dry. the whole time i was wondering why they werent including riku since he was like.. 20 feet away.... like hes your best friend too guys.... i really am unable to understand this scene. like... nomura you KNOW how to write compelling relationships so what happened buddy. woody and buzz had more romantic tension than sora and kairi. also like when she leads him into the light or whatever.. whats the deal

i LOVE kairi but god. can you PLEASE let her do SOMETHING????? CAN I PLAY AS KAIRI??? im so tired of her being reduced to a damsel even when she has a weapon shes supposedly adept with now. she has had like.............. no development. im so sorry this happened to you kairi

im surprised there arent more worlds. i thought there would be the same or a greater number of disney worlds as kh2 but theres actually fewer?? and they feel much longer, or at least some of them do. worlds like the caribbean and toybox felt gigantic and took me forever while corona and monstropolis felt smaller. and some of the worlds you cant even fully explore until after you played through the story????

also im very intrigued about this new female character that keeps getting mentioned vaguely. i suspect there will be some intense retcons put in place abt her since she has NEVER been mentioned before dispite it seeming like shes very important. 

the final world place is very interesting conceptually but like how many times in this series am i going to have to collect soras lmao ALTHO i loved hearing from namine ;_; i miss u sweet girl

also uhh i could write for forever about sora as a character and how complex he is when you actually think abt it. i STILL see ppl saying riku is more interesting as a character but i feel like ppl only look at soras optimistic outlook. sora really keeps his feelings locked up way more than you think he would & not only that but hes so empathetic he ends up tackling everyone else's feelings too.. the idea that he is only powerful or useful because he has friends really hammers in how he says "my friends are my power" like.. every 5 seconds.. god  i love u but pls take a break for a Second. i just want him to go home and hug his mom

-

ok i just finished. like 5 mins ago. im still trying to like.. register what happened. the final act really packed a LOT together. i feel like theres too much to even mention right now. and theres still SO many questions. 

like i said before, i feel mixed. while there was a LOT to like about this game, there was also a lot that i did not like or was confused/put off by. i thought the first like, 2/3 of the game was too long and kind of boring sometimes? i couldnt handle in arendelle how they included the songs.. i get why they did it but it was NOT for me. the disney worlds kind of dragged on and, outside of the story connections to the finale, felt a little pointless. nothing happened other than the org popped in to egg on sora and then left. and the final act went by SO QUICKLY i didnt feel like there was enough time to register all the shit that was happening. also i fucking HATE how after everything, kairi was reduced to a damsel YET AGAIN. are you KIDDING ME!!!!!!!!! everything she does is off-screen and her "death" acts as a motivation for sora which is the worst way to do things like what the fuck

i personally really liked the game, even if parts were not as i initially expected. there was a lot of hype surrounding this game, but i think for what it was, it was as enjoyable to play as any kh game, and it delivered a lot of emotions, answered a few questions, created more questions, and wrapped up the dark seeker saga pretty nicely while still leaving room for future stories to be told. and BOY do i have some questions!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

people who dont like how convoluted, dramatic, weird,  tropey  or heavily-retconned the plot is might think its bad. but ppl have thought kh in general is bad for those reasons for years anyway. honestly while these are all things that i can understand and empathize with, in the end for me its about how it makes me feel rather than like, how well it follows storytelling rules? and it sure made me feel a Lot. like im saying this as a long-time superfan so lmao

anyway i cried a lot for a very long time about the following: old man yaoi, ventus and roxas being in the same shot, how everyone looks rendered in beautiful next-gen hd, lea isa  and xions new outfits, namixi date, uhhh seasalt trio finally got to go to the beach together, namine being ALIVE, all the shit everyone said after i beat them in the labrynth, how often everyone cried in this game, sora uhhh not existing??? what happened????? is this what the next game is going to be about??? 

THANKS NOMURA FOR MY FUCKING LIFE????????

[aliceslantern]

Heartlines, a Kingdom Hearts fanfic, chapter 25-- Deconstruction/Reconstruction

Twelve years ago, Xemnas betrayed the royal court of Radiant Garden to his father, Xehanort. Prince Ienzo flees to another city and begins university in the aftermath, hoping the anonymity will protect him from eager eyes with ill intent. The darkness spilling across the country, as well as an individual from his past, cut short Ienzo's new beginning and bring new conflicts to light. Strained between the desires of his magic and his heart, Ienzo's choice will change him forever.

Modern Fantasy AU, Soulmates, Zemyx. Updates Fridays until it's done.

Chapter summary:  With Radiant Garden under control of the resistance, it's time to rebuild. Ienzo tries to repair the damage done to his family.

Read it on FF.net/on AO3

---

White sheets. Cool air. Color and light. He felt so heavy, and it took him a moment of grappling into consciousness to realize it was because he could barely move his legs.

“Ienzo? Love?”

Ienzo turned his head as much as he was able. He seemed to have motion in his upper body, but even that was difficult, like tugging on puppet strings. “Ev-even?” He swallowed.

“Would you like some water? I’ll get some. Don’t move.”

As if he could help it. Blurrily, he saw Even retreat to a corner of this room--the castle infirmary?--and pour water from a pitcher. He knew he should be grateful to still be sighted at all, after using so much magic. He squinted. Even handed him the cup; he could barely close his hand around it, but he managed it at last. Despite IV fluids, he was so thirsty .

“Are you in any pain? I can get you some medication if--”

“No. I’m not. But I can’t… it’s hard to move.”

“...I know.” Even smoothed some of the hair from Ienzo’s face. His own face was pale, pinched, a large bruise along his throat yellowing. “From the magic use. Breaking down a limiter of that strength… then triggering what you did… frankly, it’s a miracle you’re still alive.”

“Will I be like this… always?”

“I’m optimistic you’ll recover yet, but… there may be some lingering effects.”

“What’s happened? How long have I been out? Where’s Amalia? Where’s--?”

“One thing at a time, child. It’s imperative you remain calm.”

Ienzo tried to center himself, tried to take deep breaths. Even took his hand and rubbed it, gently.

“Amalia is safe and well. I suspect Ansem is enjoying having time with her. Once he received some blood replacement, Demyx was fine too. I’m sure he’ll be thrilled you’re awake. It was all rather… dramatic, how it went down. You’ve been unconscious close to three weeks.”

“Aeleus? ...Isa? What of… everything else? Xehanort’s forces? The son who called himself Ansem? He wasn’t in the throne room that day--”

Even’s eyes went blank, and he turned towards the window. “I’m afraid when I… felt your burst of magic--it was felt everywhere, Ienzo, I don’t think you understand--I assumed the worst and I--I did something reckless. He was our jailer, in my old labs, something he no doubt had great pleasure in. For the first time in my life… I acted on impulse.” He looked at his free hand, which was trembling. “I knew you were in trouble, and I--”

Ienzo had never heard Even sound so shaky. He choked down guilt. “You killed him.”

“...He was the gatekeeper.” He’d turned faintly green.

“Was that the first time you took a life?”

“It does not matter. It needed to happen either way.” He swallowed. “I made my way there, with ease. You killed every Heartless in the vicinity. Those that were human were knocked unconscious, or fled.”

“I… I did?”

“...Quite. The initial scouting indicates that… you may have slain every one in the city.”

“It was not conscious,” he admitted. “All I saw was that Demyx was bleeding out and the soulbinding reacted to all that--”

“--and the rush of emotions triggered magic. Of course it did.”

Ienzo lay back a little. “So without the three of them… and no Heartless…”

“The capital city’s under the control of the resistance.” But there was no happiness in his expression.

“Shouldn’t we be… glad? This is among the best case scenarios--”

“The sudden death of Xehanort and two of his sons has caused something like a power vacuum. The people don’t know how to react. There’s still darkness and various devotees of it spread throughout the country. Some states have turned over towards us, but others are… hesitant. Waiting to see might happen. And there are those who are outright fighting. Aeleus and Isa are among the front line, trying to see what can be done to restore order without worsening things. Meanwhile your father is trying to pursue international aid… and research better ways to defeat the darkness.”

“And of you?”

A pause. “I’ve been taking care of you.”

“I’m sure you’ll be relieved to go back to research, then.”

Even reached forward to smooth Ienzo’s hair. “To be truthful, it has been nice, to have this space to think. To consider.”

Ienzo understood. “...It’s alright if you’re upset, Even.”

“It is so silly , that I feel such guilt for killing one who’s killed thousands with his actions--but my feelings are not important.”

“I’m sure that’s not the case.” Ienzo struggled to sit up; Even adjusted the pillows under him. “So much for fighting back.”

“I think you’ve done enough. You must recover for what comes next.”

“Amalia. I need to see her.”

He hesitated.

“Please, Even.”

“...Quite.” He seemed to go a little deeper into himself. “Perhaps there will be one day when I’m not constantly in fear of your life.”

“I sincerely hope so.”

Ienzo watched him leave the room. He’d never seen Even so scattered before, so almost… unsure . Had something else happened he was not telling Ienzo, about the man calling himself Ansem? That bruise…

He hadn’t been conscious long, but he was already exhausted. He could still feel his legs, but moving was the problem. Perhaps he could get a wheelchair, and get around that way? He couldn’t seriously sit around and do nothing while all this fighting happened--

The door opened. In came Demyx, carrying their daughter. She’d gotten even bigger since Ienzo last saw her--another month he’d missed--and she was chewing on a teething ring. “Hey,” he said, softly. Like Even, his eyes were closed off.

“How do you feel?” Ienzo asked.

“Me? Oh, I’m fine. Ugly scar, but oh well, right? How are… you?” Amalia was staring at him, not with fear like before, but perhaps curiosity. Ienzo tried to reach out to her with his magic, but it was like swatting wet laundry; it didn’t come instantly to his call. So instead he reached out one trembling hand. She smiled and handed him the slimy teething ring. “Oh, sweetie, I’m sure daddy doesn’t want that.”

“Could I…” He wasn’t sure he was physically strong enough to hold her.

“Ah… sure.” Demyx pulled the chair closer to the bed and plopped her onto the mattress. “I’ve been… bringing her in here for a while every day. While daddy takes his long nap, right?”

She made a sound like “boo.”

“She talks.” Tears rose to his eyes.

“Well. Vocalizes.”

She clapped her hands together.

“And she can hold herself up.”

“She crawls, too. Ah--like that.” She had dragged herself almost across Ienzo’s lap. “I have a feeling she’ll be running before long.”

Amalia looked up at him and made a noise that could only be expressed as “?”

“Daddy,” Demyx said to her helpfully. “You remember now, yeah.”

“Baba.”

“Daddy. Good.” He smoothed the curls off her forehead.

Ienzo felt a rush of affection which was almost painful. “Look at you, big girl.” He wasn’t sure what else to say. She tugged at the sleeve of his robe. “Can you help me?” he asked Demyx.

“Sure.” He eased her into his lap. Amalia pressed her cheek against his chest. “See? Crisis averted.”

“I’m guessing the curls came from you.”

“The only time my hair was long enough to tell was when I was underwater, so.” He shrugged. Amalia gave him a toothless smile. “Look at you, happy girl.”

Ienzo noticed the difference in his voice when he spoke to the two of them. “Are you comfortable? Here?”

“Oh, yeah. Ansem set us up nice in your old room. If you don’t mind.”

“Why would I mind?”

Another shrug. “Oof, drool patrol.” He grabbed a tissue and dabbed at it. “She’s teething something wicked.”

“Maybe the next time you come you could bring me a book, so I could read to her.”

“She’d probably like that.”

Ienzo wrapped his arms loosely around her, and she let him. Feeling the warmth and weight of her--the subtle twitch of her limbs-- and hearing her little babbling eased this awful ache he’d had for so long. “I missed you,” he said to her. He kissed her head. “I missed you so much. I just… hope we can be a family now.”

“That would be nice,” he said softly. “Wouldn’t it?” The last part he repeated in a goofy voice, and Amalia laughed. “You think you’ll be okay?”

“Even’s optimistic. And I trust him.”

“He’s been up here almost constantly.”

“But the castle is… safe, for you two?”

“Oh, yeah. Magic users crawling out of the woodwork to help. I've still got some fight in me."

“I hope that soon I can be back on my feet, and start being a bigger part of her life.”

“One thing at a time.” Ienzo wondered if he was imagining the flatness in his eyes. “Isn’t that right, Li-li?”

---

It took Ienzo weeks to start feeling something resembling “normal.” For several nights the pain of his healing nerves kept him awake, but at least once it was through with he could limp around a little. He could play with Amalia a little more actively. Physical therapy made him somewhat stronger, and while he had to use a cane to walk more than a few steps, Even believed it would be gone before long.

Members of his family and the resistance ducked in and out. Ansem brought him books, briefed him on the situation as it developed. “Almost feels as though my skills to rule have grown rusty,” he admitted. “It is difficult to tell… which members of parliament left are lying, when they say they did not hold any allegiance towards Xehanort. I’m tempted to dissolve the whole thing and hold elections, but we simply can’t do so at the moment. Making sure our people are fed and safe and cared for is more important than politics at the moment. Thankfully the bordering nations have been kind enough to send along resources and medics.”

“I wish I could help,” Ienzo said. “Being here, waylaid and helpless --”

Ansem just patted his hand. “You jumpstarted a revolution, Ienzo,” he said.

“So I’m told, but I wonder if you all are exaggerating to salve my ego.”

The pat became more of a squeeze. “Control of Radiant Garden was crucial,” he said. “And you achieved that.”

“Only because Xehanort mortally wounded Demyx, and I reacted instinctively--were it not for that my whole plan would’ve collapsed--”

“Ienzo. Why are you being hard on yourself?”

He felt tears in his eyes. “These past six months… I’ve been sitting here in luxury playing silly mind games while my daughter grew up without me, while the rest of you suffered. ”

“You did the best you could with what you had--and you did pretty damn well. This guilt is pointless, Ienzo.”

“I… I know.”

“We are together now. We will rebuild. And I hope things will be better than they were before.”

He sniffled. “Is it over? Can it just be over?”

Ansem drew him into an embrace.

---

Spring began in earnest. Ienzo realized one morning as he woke in the infirmary that the lingering smell of darkness that had hung over Radiant Garden was gone, and a fresh rain brought in the sea air. He no longer needed the cane, but he tired easily, and his legs still ached tremendously. Once he was well enough, he insisted that he be more involved in the reconstruction, insofar as he could.

There was the reality of Xehanort’s youngest son’s experiments. Ienzo had purged the Heartless, but the poor people who had not been transformed were instead traumatized and in some cases catatonic. While there were doctors and psychologists willing to help them, it was hard to tell if they could be helped. Ansem organized national days of mourning for those who had been lost, and released the lists of names so families could have closure. The youngest son had kept meticulous records.

He asked community leaders to come forward with ideas as to help their nation move on. Darkness still existed; but now that people had hope, they were more willing to fight. That, and with the darkness easing, they were getting early signs that the planet could still heal. Ienzo swore he could feel its pulse, its life reaching up to his magic. He wished he did not feel so powerless.

“We don’t want things to go back to the way they were,” Ansem said in a broadcast. “Clearly, “normal” meant “suffering” for some. Darkness… only made that pain more obvious. If we wish to maintain the light, we must heal one another.”

Finally, Ienzo was well enough to go back to his rooms, and begin repairing his family… because it was going to take a lot of work. Amalia was more familiar with him, more comfortable, but still she always looked towards Demyx when she needed something.

And there was the matter of… Demyx.

At first Ienzo thought the distance between them was all paranoia on his part, but it became clear in the way Demyx spoke to him, especially when it came to their daughter. “You dressed her in that? She hates that one, it’s itchy against her scales.” “Sure. You can do that. I guess.” “Look, I know you’re trying, but strawberries give her gas .” “You let her nap too long. Now she’s not going to sleep through the night.” That, and the flatness in his eyes. It wasn’t openly unfriendly, but it lacked the warmth that they’d had before.

More straining than this, in some ways, was sharing a bed. Ienzo had honestly been looking forward to reconnecting on a physical level--he hoped it would help him sleep the deep way he had when they lived together--but that first night Demyx just rolled onto his side and fell asleep. He let it go a few nights, wondering if it were just a pain of readjustment, if he were just used to sleeping alone. Finally, he just got fed up and crawled over to spoon him, jerking him out of his sleep. “What are you--?”

“Trying to touch you?”

“Well could you please not?”

For a moment there was just silence.

Demyx exhaled heavily and ran his hand through his hair. “Look, I… I’m sorry for snapping. But I… I’m not comfortable .”

Ienzo swallowed and felt a lump in his throat. “Would you prefer I slept elsewhere?”

“No, it’s… it’s fine.”

Ienzo eased back to his side of the bed. He knew he would not be able to sleep. As it was, he was struggling not to cry.

The next day they behaved as normally as they could in front of their daughter, but when Ansem came and asked if he could spend some time with her, Ienzo agreed before Demyx could get a word in edgewise. “We need to talk,” Ienzo said.

Demyx wrinkled his nose. “Do we have to?”

“Yes. We do.” Ienzo was surprised to feel his temper flare, but he kept it in check. “Look, we’re… we’re parents, and we’re soulmates . A lot has happened, and you have a right to feel the way you do. But that can’t begin to heal if we keep ignoring it.”

He seemed to not know what to say.

“How do you feel, Demyx?” Ienzo asked.

He rubbed at his arm. “I feel like… I feel…” He swallowed. “Something’s just wrong ? With me?”

“You’re processing.”

“Not that. I don’t know. For a long time I just missed you so much it hurt, and I didn’t know how I was going to do any of it, be her dad, or…” He trailed off, a flush darkening his face. “And then I saw you again, and you were alive, and I was so happy and so relieved and I don’t know what happened since then. Something’s wrong.”

A suspicion slid into place, and Ienzo’s voice shook when he asked, “wrong how ?”

Tears flooded his eyes. “I don’t feel anything. When I look at you. You’re the father of my child. But it’s just… I feel like… I was meant to be her dad, but… I don’t know if I’m meant to be with you?” His voice quivered and broke. “I want to. I want to be in love with you again. But I…”

“I think I understand,” Ienzo said woodenly.

Demyx hesitated. He stared at Ienzo for a moment, and then he took a few steps forward and kissed him, hard.

And it was different.

Physically, it felt the same, the way they moved together. But it was just a nice kiss, without the heavy reassurance that yes , this is part of you, everything is safe, everything is okay.

In his mind’s eye, Ienzo saw Xehanort gouging him below the heart. “Oh,” he said softly.

“What’s wrong with me, Ienzo? Am I just depressed?”

“No,” he said. Numbly, he pulled away.

“...What?”

And then he started laughing.

“ What ?”

Once he began, he couldn’t stop, until tears were running down his face, and he couldn’t breathe, and somewhere the gasps of laughter became sobs, and he was curled in a ball on the floor. He felt Demyx’s hand on his back, warm but the touch was so wrong .

“Ienzo. What is it?”

He looked up. “Xehanort broke the soulbound.”

[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.