𝘥 𝘦 𝘦 𝘱 𝘸 𝘢 𝘵 𝘦 𝘳 .

@lordofoblivion​     sent a  💖  to hold haaands

“  wha— !  ”      the note hit all kinds of wrong.  choked off mid-strum to a wobble as unsure of itself as the glance he’d given fingers threaded loose with his own.  squeezing...  confiscated from a much needed tuning session   —   what’d put the echo through the halls and driven enough to retreat when their company was decidedly  unwanted.      “  you could’ve just asked me to stop y’know.  ”

when demyx had turned away, half-stride, the thought crossed ienzo’s mind unprompted: “ i’m never going to see him again ”. the next thing ienzo knew, he was reaching out into the other’s personal space in an uncharacteristic act of desperation. it wasn’t, isn’t like him, and now that he’s here ienzo isn’t sure what to do. he has no idea how to ask demyx to stay, or even explain why he wants him to stay. they weren’t friends, back when they were both in the organization xiii——ienzo has never had friends in his life, and certainly not when he was a nobody.

and perhaps that’s it. that small what if, a curious maybe, that there could be something there now.

❛ oh——the gummiphone. yes. i would like to make sure it is working properly. the technology is so unreliable. “ runs on happy faces. ” what does that even mean? ❜

hesitating fingers twitch against the sleeve of demyx’s cloak; they want to curl in tighter, force the other to stay in place in case the excuse doesn’t work, but after a moment ienzo lets go and forces his arm to drop back to his side.

❛ please? it would be a shame if there were technical difficulties now. ❜

his well wasn’t deep.  where faces happy to see him were counted on one hand.  a generous rounding up when the first response wasn’t a scowl.  what demyx had failed, at first, to notice was absent, here, too.  in this sterile room.  surrounded by bits and baubles and beakers he’d done well not to touch.  this time.  leaving on a good note.  let that tune be something worth remembering even if each steps away promised, one day, ienzo, like everyone else, would forget him also.  it was the plan.  sequestered off in a quiet little place that still savored a will to seek out the  better  he’d heard harped on about.  away from this  mess  and all the pieces that’d played a part in it.

strange then, that he’d been stalled so easily.  slowed down by a loose grip and a look he couldn’t quite put a finger on.  different.  uncommon to a point of curious he didn’t fight an emerging interest in.      “  i think it means you’re supposed to smile, dude.  ”

one of his own for good measure lasted only as long as that connection.  a beat too short.  falling in on itself and the pinch of teeth while deliberating.  distance had no timeframe.  those far off worlds would be far off afterwards and   —   focusing too long made his stomach hurt.  a substitution for an alternative that might’ve understood better.

❛ i did not mean to— ❜   ienzo presses his lips together, shakes his head again, more sharply this time.  he did.  just because he knows his words not to be true and regrets his tone now does not mean he did not mean to be deliberately cruel when he lashed out.  he could have done worse; has berated people for much less.  has likely done so to demyx in the past——but he does not remember, because as zexion disparaging and criticizing his colleagues had been an afterthought at best.

(he almost misses it.  how easy it was.)

he turns to look just in time to see demyx’s mouth quirk up at the corner.  it takes him several more moments to thaw.  three simple words was all it took to freeze him to the core.   ❛ very funny.  and i am not gloomy. ❜   ienzo smooths down the lapels of his lab coat and straightens his ascot, then picks up his tablet from the desk to resume scrolling through his notes.  anything to keep his hands too busy from trembling.

ienzo knows just as well as demyx—better even—that he deserves to be blamed. he’s been waiting for the other shoe to drop; for someone to decide it’s time for him to face the consequences of his actions.

repentance has nothing on retribution, after all.

❛ well. enough of that. there is still work to be done and that is what i must focus on. speaking of——there are books in the library i would like to cross-reference with some of these reports. …if you’ll excuse me. ❜

making his way past demyx towards the doorway, ienzo wishes not for the first time he still had the ability to summon a dark corridor and exit and enter any room at will. it occurs to him just how obviously he is running away, but ienzo doesn’t care; he prefers escape to the alternative.

this close, able to look down at him, it’s not new to wonder if he makes him uneasy.  if ienzo can feel that void he’s housing and still manages the labyrinth to a blame he’s not owed.  not this time, if ever.  not when an offer’d been too good to be true and turned up the dud he’d, in a way, expected it to be.  walked into for another chance at something demyx chose not to try and put into words.  that’d  be harder than  this.

choppy waters were still manageable.  waded into them as he was..  for a stare that trailed the motion of hands more nervous than he’d ever known them to be.  down a coat that didn’t need the adjusting.  maybe it was the angle   —   he looked different like that.

“  riiiiight—  ”      passed up, it took more than the beat of a drummed thumb against his thigh to decide to turn.  pace out his pursuit in lazy, wide-gaited steps.  covering double what was taken ahead of him till whatever solitude ienzo had been after was knotted off for a company he’d have done better to dismiss outright.  avoid the twinkle in bright eyes.  how, with his head dipped, demyx could almost make a face out under all that hair.    “ what kind of reports ? ”

the kind that needed cross-referenced.  subjects that would static his brain to dwell on for too long, maybe, but the lab was quiet and, when the alternative was returning to dangerously intuitive, golden disapproval ?  a little bit of a headache never hurt.  not when the company was good and the threat level minimal.      “  we’re on the same side, right ?  ”

a doorway blocked was a confrontation made and, tilted from the bottom, that tablet’s contents weren’t so secret anymore.  obscure and scribbled ;  how could he read that ?

“ Oh c’mon, droplet, y’know me — I never stay gone for very long. ”

Xigbar didn’t want to break the news, however, that this game in which Demyx had unwittingly found himself was far from over.  That this lull was but a mere interlude for more strife to come.  That he couldn’t run forever.

Fate always found everyone, one way or another.

“ Look, lemme speak my piece, ”   Xigbar introduced his explanation, his grip refusing to ease until he had completed it in its entirety.   “ I’m fully aware that Vexen was the one to lasso you into fixin’ up the other Apprentices with the empty-bodied goods.  Know all about that one lil doll that slipped through the cracks. ”

The look he gave Demyx was pointed, focused, as he continued,   “ But just who do ya think gave the order in the first place?  Betcha he toldja about a certain blue-haired berzerker involved, but he may have forgotten to slip in just who got the ball rollin.”

A little game of gummiphone had ensued concerning the coup, and yet somehow his own name had never been dropped — though, of course, for the better, given his habit of consistent covertness.  However, now that this whole ‘Norting phase had passed  (…or, so he could readily perceive),  he needed to find temporary sanctuary — regroup, for now, all while keeping his eye on the board and all the game pieces not yet checked — and, to at least a significant enough degree, convince his would-be allies of his harmlessness.

…Which, at this juncture, would no doubt be… a chore.

But at least he was being honest — which, given all of the usual scheming and manipulation and endless conning, was… strange.

“ In short, Xehanort’s kaput, and you got nothin’ to fear from me. ”

For now.

speak his piece..  skeptical eyes for the hand still locked in place, keeping him still   —   he’d be lying to say that didn’t feed an incentive not to listen.  strain a temporary fist to test the hold and come back dissatisfied with the results.      “  doesn’t feel like i have a choice.  ”

all the nicknames and closeness couldn’t erase built tension, focus astute and tuned into the elaborate hoops xigbar’d arranged for himself.  cryptic because he’d proven not to know how not to be.  working a lead that reeled demyx in, lips thinning and the mention of vexen an eerie reminder of the role he’d played.  under a table..  out of sight.  not so much so, though, it seemed.  he’d always seen everything.  scoped out the shadows and caught whatever movement there was to catch in the corners of it.  as precise as a thumb over where a pulse might’ve been, had he had one.

had either of them had one.

noticing  that  was easy.  picking up on the  sameness  that kept xigbar familiar and his boots from shifting.  where the others had fallen to their mergings,  they  stayed the same.  and that, more than the story woven to explain himself, kept demyx placated.  near.  lax in the grip now unchecked, a half-step eating away at loft tension... another losing it entirely.      “  sounds pretty convenient.  ”      it sounded like what he’d wanted to hear.

scouring that sharp grin   —   sharper eye   —   didn’t pan out any revelations.  it didn’t soothe or quiet the tightened nerves that refused to budge the frown from his face.  but it did admit to an honesty that looked ill-formed and uncomfortable.  what might’ve been fun to pick at, once.

“ Yes, we have. ”   Was Marluxia’s answer as he dismissed the dark corridor once Demyx had joined with him.   “ I do recall mentioning it was a recon one. ”   He added after a brief moment.  Something about checking out what was beyond the Oasis, apparently there had been some sort of strange force coming from there, a new source of power.  Even if they didn’t mean to interfere with the World around them, it was possible that it could be something that would disrupt the plans of collecting hearts, completing Kingdom Hearts and becoming hole again.

And as much as he didn’t care for that plan, he had some of his own after all, he did want to succeed on that mission.  Another reason why he wasn’t so happy to be paired up with Demyx of all people, he didn’t know him that well and in all honesty, there were others that would be a better combination with him than the Sitar Player.

But there was no need to keep wishing for something different.  One could want a rose but when all they had were lilacs, there was no need for wishing for a change.

“ We have to see what’s beyond the Oasis, make sure it’s not something that will interrupt the greater plan and report back. ”   And with that, he started to walk.

marluxia said   ‘ we ’   but there were enough context clues to know, with or without him, things would get done.  the mission would find an end, whatever it was, and demyx could stare into the sand for all it was worth, only to come back empty-handed and impatient.  it’d have served him right to march out, alone, into that blister of a heatwave.  get lost in the grainy mirage of  nothing  and keep on from there.  wouldn’t have missed him.  that bitter contempt that narrowed his gaze when the first in a string of steps  away  weren’t mimicked.

“  riiight,  ”      forfeiting his stubborn refusal had become common practice.  hadn’t ever mattered who sat on the other side of it.  so long as the only sweating done was in result of the glare overhead   —   for a bunch of empty pockets, they sure were all filled with a similar pride.     “  and you’re gonna do all the pencil pushing later, right ?  ”      a jog to catch up, short but hasty,      “  saïx always says he can’t read my handwriting.  ”

saïx said a lot of things.

odd as it may sound, lea had never really considered life beyond the war; had been so focused on training, on fulfilling his promise, on trying to atone the future had merely seemed an ephemeral concept that would never come, or bring only disaster that now that it was here he simply——— had no idea what to do with himself.  fewer heartless were abound now with the worlds restored, any clean up work taken care of easily enough between the seven of them.  he still trained with merlin, focusing on honing his magic and skills, but there no longer existed that sense of urgency.  his friends had returned, and he’d never felt happier for it, but the issues left unsaid between them, all the past shit they still had to deal with hadn’t somehow magically disappeared with their reunion, no matter how much lea would wish it;  and though he enjoyed spending time with them, finally getting to apologise, getting to share ice cream again without the need for lies or pretense, they’d all changed.  it felt different.  not better or worse, but different. 

lea didn’t quite know how to deal with that.  was afraid to, even.  that uncertainty, the loss of goal to cling on to, no purpose to throw himself at, all that was left was the jagged maelstrom of his own thoughts;  being confronted with the very past he’d tried to turn away from so harshly and definitely.  so, in the end, he did what he did best:  he avoided it.  told himself roxas and xion would be fine with their new friends as he hopped worlds to do errands for merlin, told himself he just needed a breather, some space, some time to get his ducks in a row.  told himself he needed to find isa, fulfill that last bit of his promise;  and though none of that was strictly speaking untrue… deep down he knew they were – at least partially – excuses.  one would’ve thought he’d learned by now;  

but shit, what was another layer of guilt to the myriad of layers he already donned across his shoulders like a yoke, right?  not like he completely cut contact.  the gummi phone took care of that, at least. 

and so here he was, excuses in tow, with a solid lead of where he might find his … well, whatever they were now:  feet planted into the sand of yet another beach that was somehow reminiscent of destiny islands but not quite  ( something was pulling at his gut, an uncomfortable sensation he couldn’t place just yet, couldn’t parse past the nervous anticipation, tentative hope and expected disappointment of yet another dead end ), green eyes scanning the horizon only to land on …

for a brief, wild moment his heart jumped at that flash of black, feet carrying him swiftly ( too swiftly, adding a stumble here and there ) across the sand.  but then he noted the blond hair instead of blue, the slim figure and though there was that familiar disappointment, it flew on the cusp of an almost pleasant surprise.  relief too; though he’d never expected his messages to be answered, it was good to know demyx was still alive. 

his shadow pools over an achingly familiar sight, one that brings a rueful grin to lea’s lips.   “ well, well.  few years later and i’m still findin’ ya lazin’ about.  ‘m surprised you don’t have your sitar out while you’re at it. ”   a beat,   “ almost figured you’d faded too——– should a’ known better somehow. ”

he’d be having to cut it soon.  that mess of windswept, tangled blond fallen across a face scrunched for the feel of it.  caught between fingers that toyed with the length before a puff of a breath sent it elsewhere.  like him.  elsewhere.  watching twilight sort itself out.  tracing the distant edges of a misshapen figure in clouds that passed slower than usual above the outstretched arm admiring them.  more useful a distraction than thoughts, mangled and trying to realign.  pick out which were his and which were infectious memories that had no place else to go, now.  what, he’d figured, would have carried more weight to know where they’d come from.  why they lingered.  why they’d chosen the last few months to surface.

another flock of gulls and it might’ve hurt if he’d dug them any deeper.  the heels of his palms pressing heavy over restless eyes.  chatter was still better than frustrating silence.  where a breaking tide offered support and lungs filled off of briny air.

they’d all seemed so much better off...

refilling old shoes.  righting old wrongs.  working together like a unit that’d only gained traction as nobodies.  which made his failure to  want  to integrate that much more blatant.  pushing back against an ebb and flow that’d have washed him out and brought back someone who’d only make it worse.  right ?  those disjointed images of shrinking backs   —   funny how the only thing he’d felt, then, was  fear.  baseless, incorporeal, fear.  and with no one to ask, demyx dubbed it fair to wonder if they’d all felt it too, right beforehand.  shrinking up and in..  the tightness of a sunburn, skin so taut.  making it hard to move in it.  making them hard to look at.  warping ax— ..  lea’s  laughter into a mocking, awful thing.

not for the first time, that pocketed phone was caught under straining fingers.  squeezed with a want to chuck it into the sea.  send them all away and find a world unfamiliar.  lose sight of an end goal that’d turned fuzzy and relearn how to be without..  being.  relearn how to——

blotted sun forced him to squint upward against an intrusive shadow, the glare of light around it veiling an identity that, for their opened mouth, didn’t require confirmation.  would’ve earned the indignant roll to look away without trying.  sent the bend of a cloaked arm to droop lazily over what might’ve settled sour without it.  destiny’s sense of humor had been a rotten one for a long time, but, only now, did the stink catch up to it.  drone out of him in a groan that lost momentum between them and settled, eventually, into something altogether  flat.

“  what’re you doing here ?  ”      invasive and informal, lacking a camaraderie that might’ve existed for someone else.  a man with a face only slightly harsher.  sharper teeth and an ugly callousness he’d learned to work around with better grace than what went into the efforts took to rise.  follow unfamiliar boots to unfamiliar pants... an unfamiliar shirt...  a  somebody  that’d earned the uneasiness in his guts, arms lazily draped over knees slid upright.    “  i just—  ”

years ?

a few years——     it made sense, at least.

‘ WAIT ’  PROMPT  |  ACCEPTING @flamereign​ said:  'wait' / but reverse it >: )

they didn’t work together.  not  well,  anyways.  not if results were wanted and the paperwork stacked high.  axel too willing to fold and demyx’s own hand left on the table to start, the mission was only ever going to end one way.  finished in the sense that no one would ask questions.  no one would be there  to  ask.  and that..  should’ve been enough.  the ending to a day spent dragging his feet, uneventful as the wave over that jutting shoulder   —   it was meant to be enough.  so why’d he lose his anchor in sudden, wrenching pursuit.

alone, the shout might’ve worked.  how it smacked the high walls of the overhang above them and circled back in broken echoes.  alone,  he’d not’ve felt exposed.  his fingers wouldn’t have twitched ‘round a circled wrist shackled firm, the lengths of their arms stretched out between where he’d sank heels and axel’s forward march was stalled.  tighter than it needed to be, a quiet want to sink in further was granted during the short-strided slink closer.

“  just.. hold up a minute,  ”      for his thoughts to catch up to him.  for the passing suck of his teeth to sound off and that grip, finally, go loose and fall away.      “  you know i’m not gonna ask why, man,  ”      the details ?  he could take ‘em or leave ‘em.  demyx could walk away from whatever backwards contempt had framed the goings on in a castle still eerie to think about.  doing away with the headaches   —   curiosity still scaled even alongside clarity.

The pink haired man stared for a moment pondering about the words.  Yes, maybe their last encounter had been rather heated, but that couldn’t be the base of his impression of Marluxia, not when impressions could so often be deceiving.  But when it came to the Graceful Assassin, even the deceptions could be deceiving so of course, he understood.  To a degree.  What he was offering was not something that would come again in a near future. 

“ I wouldn’t blame you but then again… what would I gain from setting a trap for you?  There are more entertaining ways to do so. ”   Marluxia replied.  If anything, what he was offering could hurt his reputation more than Demyx’s considering he was known for not associating himself with just anyone.

But even someone like Marluxia knew when it was time to back off.

“ So I will ask one more time.  Yes or no? ”   After all, he wasn’t willing to waste his time with someone who didn’t want to take a risk, take a chance and leap into the unknown.  Safety was for cowards anyway.

nervousness didn’t have as much to do with it as sidelong glances might’ve suggested.  down quiet corridors where shadows kept company as close as theirs.  he had a point.  no one was expecting them   —   absent often enough, they’d not’ve questioned it, even if they were.  not  him  anyways.  the piece on the board most willing spared.  a thought to spurn movement, the lean back and away from the hand so ready to guide him.  what, in a passing thought, demyx considered biting.  blame him for his usefulness.  blame him because he still held enough of the right person’s interest that  this  was a  step down.

but..  what’d ever been wrong with a step down ?  just meant he got to play with reins.

“  alright,  ”      his indignant way of maintaining an idea of the upperhand.  not the yes or no marluxia had been after, but a response to go with the reach back towards that throat.  where fingers wished freedom from leather for the sake of grazed contact unfelt, hair wrapped ‘round from his nape.  a tug for good measure and demyx may as well have not sought that distance to start,      “  don’t gotta be so  snappy,  dude.  ”

A MEME I DON’T REMEMBER ATP  :) @idlegore​ said:  “ i can’t feel your heart ”   /  from aerith

things hadn’t gone right.  a cave-in from clumsy hands and the tunnel back grew ever the more narrow.  a harrowing squeeze that asked for bravery that didn’t hold shape while that voice pursued him.  the    ‘  wait !  ’    still bouncing in off-tuned echoes.  those  eyes  that’d caught him in between shadows and not let up in their pursuit.  some girl, bright enough the beam was jarring and that sprint between buildings turned spider-webbed and desperate.

another failure wouldn’t earn favor..  it wouldn’t keep clinical eyes from cutting into him.  upping the regimen till it didn’t happen again and myde wasn’t so susceptible to riding anxiety.

a sharp left and the options were limited   —   curve back around and risk those guards catching on..  or double down and deal with the  pit pat  of an approaching storm.  pinks and reds and an outstretched arm that made sudden, silencing contact near the center of his still heaving chest.  let the momentum stagger him.  slosh in a mud puddle that swallowed his boot to the ankle and toyed the trip that’d set chain link at his back.      “  watch it !  ”      too little too late but an ability to argue he’d  tried  was important.

a shaking breath was still a breath was still better than one held.  better than his tense jaw and how, from that stumbled, off-set angle, she seemed somehow bigger.      “  —dont !  ”      it stung despite the leather between gently probing fingers and an old scar that’d never healed quite right.  what lay over a rib cage he’d stopped wondering the originality of.  stopped wondering if the cut of the rungs below sallow skin were the same as they’d always been or if aging speculations could explain that strangeness away, too.