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“Angel of Twilight: Clockwork Breakdown”	By : HappyDragon Category: Kingdom Hearts > Slash/Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 8242 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom Hearts, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 8
- 9
- 10
Key:
“Talking aloud.”
‘Thinking to one’s self.’
/Nobody Language/
::Denotes sound effects:: ::and actions.:: Only used during speech.
Major P.O.V./Scene Change: * * * *
A/N: My notes/comments/ramblings
Chapter Start/End: ------

A/N: [[Removed to comply with new AFF guidelines. Please see the MM.org version for full A/Ns: http://www.mediaminer.org/fanfic/view_st.php/156268]]

Rating: NC-17.

|Spoilers|: There are some light spoilers for all three games.

|Warning|: The usual. Beware OOC-ness. Also beware the language, angst, and psychological trauma to Riku. Also, see end notes, alllllllll the way at the bottom.

Beta’d by: ‘Dark Light’

Criticism: Constructive only. Non-Axel flamers need not respond.

Reviews:
Kage: I’ll do my best. ^_^

MPS SHADOWMASTER: You have a very odd name . . . . Anyway! Okay, sorry about the confusion. Yes, Riku had some world heart for lunch, but Mickey swung in and pulled him out before the world died. King Mickey then teleported them back to their hotel room on Galdrial, where Riku passed out for some unknown reason. So Mickey and Riku are back on Galdrial, where this fiction started.

As for the story being longer . . . . . this monster started 2 months after CoM takes place, but it will run for the rest of the year Sora is sleeping and through an Altered Version of KH 2. So this thing? It ain’t even 10% done yet. I don’t know how many chapters it will be, but we are looking at 20+ easy. No real idea though, I’m making some of this up as I go along, but it will still be a good long time until it’s done.

Also, thank you for those sites. They scare me, but I might find a few things for Xigbar and Xaldin to use--and I already spotted something Saïx will love to share with Xemnas. . . . .

Liann: ^.^~!! Mehbeh (maybe) it did. . . Now to just get moar lurkers out of hiding . . . . Still! Thanks for letting me know who you are!

Disclaimer: These characters don’t belong to me. The names that have been given to them in the games don’t belong to me. The histories mentioned in the games don’t belong to me. . . But numbers 7 - 12 are open books for all to claim until canon fills in the blanks otherwise. There will be games that do this long in the future, well after I have started to introduce my musings on their Somebodies. I Will Not Change This Story When That Happens. That is why I am calling this an Alter-Canon. Because right now I’m not exactly breaking canon, I’m actually trying to reconcile canon with fan-canon (Fanon) in my stories.

So that means that the past lives and the past names I put in here for numbers 7 - 12 are of my own creation, and are in fact my intellectual property, until Square-Enix says otherwise. I do admit that I have looked through fandom and fan-sites for possible names, but have only taken 2: Isa and Lea. All others are what I arbitrarily decided that I liked.

In Summery: No, This Really Isn’t What Saïx, Demyx, and Axel once were in the games & manga! (Saïx I mentioned last time, but I thought I’d cover him this time, because you all already knew that I’d have to address what’s happening with Axel this time, and Demyx was implied as being the way I would do that.) The same goes for Luxord, should I make mention of the past I invented for him (seeing as he has only just started letting me see his life as a Somebody.).

So for those of you who like Wimpy!Demyx . . .

You will be sorely disappointed. XD
-----------------------
“Angel of Twilight; Clockwork Breakdown” Part 8/?
‘Brittle Bones’

Riku’s eyes fluttered open. Before him was a wall of black fabric and the scent of Ansem. A moment of muddling told him that he was looking at the pillows on the mental bed in his heart. And that he still had yet to return to the waking world. This . . . was the longest night he’d slept through.

The scholar was above him now, hunched over him from the feel of things. He flicked his eyes down to his arms, but they weren’t his arms. His brows furrowed. He was using Ansem’s arms as pillows? And his arms were curled under him . . . He carefully turned his head left and right, slowly getting a better picture of the night’s situation. He was curled up and on his shins and knees and somewhat on his hands. Ansem was tight to his body in the same way, which confused the teen as that would put the other’s neck in an awkward angle for sleeping, wouldn’t it? Sure enough, the dark king was on his shins and knees, with his head resting on the pillows in a way that the aqua-eyed teen couldn’t comprehend as comfortable.

The pale boy decided that it was too soon after awakening to be confused but more than likely the right time to escape. Save for one important thing, his entire body was covered over by Ansem. His head was the closest thing to uncovered, and he still felt mocha lips on his scalp as he peered about. Though, there was one other thing he noticed, the bed had a full canopy now, with full-length curtains boxing them in on all sides.

‘To block the magic,’ he mused.

‘To block the magick’, came the silent response, just before those lips pursed and planted a kiss on the back of his head.

A forlorn sigh. “Let me sleep.”

“And where, dear child, would the fun be in that?” Another kiss and then another.

“It would be fun enough for me. I might actually, I don’t know, feel rested tomorrow morning.”

He chuckled softly. “Does that mean you plan on engineering a spot of danger for yourself? My, my, so eager to feed yourself to the Heartless,” his eyes narrowed with a wicked smile, “or maybe you finally wish to feed? We’re almost done with our last meal as it is. Dare I hope that you at last feel my pangs of hunger stirring in your veins?”

The ivory thing made a gagging sound, as if the he found the idea sickening. The Heartless Lord simply nuzzled him, activating the binding spell with a flick of fingers against a wrist. Riku sulked, and Ansem shifted his weight to be evenly distributed between his forearms and shins, lifting his body up a little. The boy still thought of escaping, but he was hemmed in by Ansem on all sides but one, and that one had a bank of pillows in his way. He was effectively pinned in place by the other’s body, caged in by larger limbs.

The elder was already kissing at the backs of pale shoulders, grinding that part of him deeper into the supple child below him. It was taking no small effort on his part to keep from crushing said child with his weight, but he didn’t feel safe trying any other position before the new defenses were tested. More magick would be sent against his boy, and he wanted to be ready when it arrived.

Riku growled, even as he tried to pull himself free. It was bad enough that the other had found a way to manually extract his twilight power from his avatar-body; he wasn’t going to just sit there and let the other have his way with him.

Said Heartless Lord chuckled at the little one’s attempts to swim through the pillows. It was so pathetically idiotic as to be adorable. He lifted himself up onto his hands--which the boy tried to take advantage of--before finding that he still couldn’t get off the ‘meaty leash’ that tethered him to the caramel skinned man. Another bout of chuckles fell from his lips before he brought his darkness into play. And play it did, along moon-pale skin, eliciting gasps and cries from his imprisoned jewel.

Shivers wracked his body as he felt the Heartless Darkness move over his flesh. The binding magick surged to life, and Riku found his movement speed reduced by half. No, he wasn’t going to just give in! Two of the tentacles rolled over his nipples, another encased his boyhood, as Ansem dipped down to kiss at his back, letting his long hair tickle the side of his body. The alabaster teen arched down, away from the scholar’s body but into his darkness. And more of that darkness started to trace over his lower back, searching for twilight to tangle with. He whined in the back of his throat, feeling the bastard plunge into him before slowly pulling back out.

Tears formed in the corners of his eyes. He couldn’t stand it! He couldn’t stand how easily the other was dominating him! Why couldn’t he fight back?! Ansem gave him a harsh love-bite on his shoulder before he started to soothe it over with his tongue. The action made Riku gasp and clutch at the large form inside him. He could feel his twilight just beneath his skin, ready to spring out and defend him. But he knew it for the trap it was, that Ansem’s darkness would just twine with it and hold it captive as it was stimulated to the point where he was at a fevered pitch. There may have been times when knowing was half the battle, but this wasn’t one of them.

Those tentacles continued to work him over before shallowly dipping into his skin just under his ribcage on either side of his spine. They withdrew a tender twilit tendril each. “No!” His body shook, the intimacy of their contact was too much for his mind. Riku’s arms gave out on him--rump still lifted--and the dark one followed him down. “Oh gods . . .” The blackness over his nipples pulled away to be replaced by those large hands tweaking him. But the displaced shades simply took hold of their own twilight playmates. “Ahaa!” His own tendrils of power erupted out of his shadow, defensive mechanism activating without his command, only to fall prey to the waiting net of shadows summoned up by the unholy wretch holding him down.

Ansem purred as Riku howled in pleasure, body flush with heat and shame. It was intoxicating, and he wrapped his arms tightly around the other to hug him close to his larger self as he buried his face in silken locks. Lords above, this little one could drive him mad with but a sound! He nipped at the little neck as the child continued to writhe against him, mind clouded by over-stimulation. Too much, far too much and far too soon. He didn’t like rushing this tender dance, after all. So he smoothed out power, gradually bringing everything to a halt, simply planting kiss after kiss to glistening skin.

Turquoise eyes fluttered closed, for he was little more than a pile of shuddering moans beneath the other now. The sword child mildly wondered about his idea to suffocate himself and planted his face into the soft mound before him. He sighed and again wished for his friends. He could drown in sea-blue eyes as the redhead would comfort him with warm arms and soft words. And the sky would hover over him, brunet spikes bouncing with each thrust. Yes, that would be nice, to lie like a lump of land between them, forever cared for by ocean and air. He could see them so clearly in his mind’s eye.

Dark silver grumbled. Must his boy think of them at a time like this? Really, where was the tact in that?

Somewhere in his glum musings, the soft thing started making calls of distress, and pumpkin eyes snapped up to search out prying wisps of murky fog. Heartless Darkness released captured twilight and readied against the roving power. The teen curled in on himself, folding his legs under his body, tucking arms to his chest, and the dark one bent low over him, molding himself to his condensed stature.

The mist slithered forth, and his darkness lashed out. Heartless Darkness twisted and cut, danced and lashed and beat back the chalky outsider. Energy resounded in the teen’s, heart and Riku willingly pushed back against his tormenter, trying to instinctively hide in the shadow of the larger male, even going so far as to cover over his head with his hands. Ansem was grateful for that startling inclination to be quiet and stay out of the way.

Almost white blades flashed through space and crashed into the warding night. Strike was traded for strike, and blows jangled in the tussle of wills, for what was magick if not a focused manifestation of energy governed by the caster’s mind? Riku burrowed against him again, and this time Ansem curled his arms and hands around the small joy, still managing to keep the foreparts on the mattress for stability. The trade of lashes went back and forth and back again, power tumbling over power, shifting smoke and shades that rose and fell on the breeze.

A hard whine from the back of his throat, and Riku shoved his rump against the hard darkness again because he at least knew the devil above him.

Wearied and battered, Ansem again emerged victorious. The muggy spell dissipated and fled from sight, and darkness drew back to its source. New gouges and groves were healing from the long leads of power, evidence of metaphysical damage washing away with the passage of time.

“Once more . . . it came looking . . . for recent thoughts . . . and memories.” He let himself collapse after that, a little too tired to do otherwise.

Riku squawked under the added weight and tried to slide the burden off him. ‘You’re too heavy!’

‘Hush pet, sleep beckons.’ And he cuddled the lithe boy. ‘Maybe your wishes will be answered tonight.’ Decisions, decisions. Could he really ready himself again? Hnnn . . . last fight hadn’t taken such a toll on him. Did that mean the caster changed the spell to anticipate him? Or was it just because the fight lasted longer? He did feel a pressing need for sleep, granted the wiggly child was unintentionally making the decision less likely. The only way to know for sure would be to wait for the memories to return in a rush of knowledge, typical of the recovery from such other spells.

As they had last night, though he would be blasted to recall what they were now. At least the targets were consistent, meaning that it was only a narrow range of memories that were being looked for. And whatever their importance was, it wasn’t impacting on his current goals, which he clearly remembered. The teen shoved against him again with the only part of him that could still move, that being his plush rump. Harvest moon eyes smiled down at his little treat, thinking of those wonderful goals. Ultimately, he would save creation from the never ending destruction of the eternal war between light and darkness by returning all worlds and all hearts to the darkness hidden behind the door of light. He would continue to raise up more and more Heartless and eventually even remove that ever present thorn in his side, the rodent King, from his grand designs.

But, he smiled down at his tempting little captive, the first step of all his plans was to subjugate the twilight teen beneath him so that he never dared to think of his precious princess ever again!

* * * * * * * *

“Peooople staaaaared at the makeup on his faace . . . Laughed at his loooong black haaaair, his animal graaaace . . . The boy in the bright blue jeeeaaan~ns . . . Jumped up on the staaaage . . . And laady starduuust sang his sooongs . . . Of darkness and disgraace,” The odd tune echoed down endless stretches of walkways, passages that could never hope to hold all of the vibrant vitality dripping from the singing male.

“And he was aaaaaallright . . . the band was all together, Yes he was aaaaaallright . . . the song went on forever, Yes he was aaaaawwwful nice . . . Really quite out of siiiiight, And he sang aaaaaaall niiiight loooo~ooong . . . ” The one next to him chuckled, despite himself, because really, the kid got to you, heart or no. And, well, if Xigbar pretended enough, then maybe he could believe that Demyx was really singing a song about him.

“Femme fataaales emeeerged from shadows, To watch this creature fair . . . Boys stood upooon their chairs, To make their point of viiieeeeew . . . I smiled sadly for a looove I could not obey . . . Lady starduuust sang his sooongs, Of darkness and dismay,” The mull-hawked Nobody was really getting into the act, swinging his arms wildly as he swayed from one side of the hall to the other, even draping himself over Number II by turns.

“And he was aaaaaalllright . . . the band was all together, Yes he waaas aaaaaalllright . . . the song went on forever, And he was, awful nice . . . Really quite out of [sight], And he sang . . . all night . . . all night long . . .” Of course, when he did that, the kid was practically blasting his one ear off the side of his head, because Damn!, did he have a set of lungs on him. And a knowing little smirk made itself at home on the space-bender’s face because that was a sure sign that the canary was a screamer.

“Ooooh how I siiiiighed, when they asked if I knew his name . . . Ooooh they was aaaallright . . . the band was all together, Yes he was alright . . . and the song went on foreveeer, He was . . . awful nice . . . Really quite paradiiis~se, He sang . . . all night long . . .” [1]

Demyx came down from his musical high, laughing like sunshine and marigolds. And Xigbar couldn’t help the ridiculous bark of laughter that came from him because that was Number IX for you, illogical and random to a tee.

“Damn, kid, why the serenade?” He wiped up some moisture from his lone eye.

The dirty-blond beamed up at him from his wiry shoulder. “Oh, no reason. It’s just too quiet is all.” And then he let go and continued to hum as he strolled on to the Superior’s study. Xigbar silently shook his head with a smile and walked on, content with watching the other’s ass.

Now if he could just get that ass into bed.

Now if he could just actually bring up the idea of that ass in a bed with his ass to said ass. Or tell the other that he was interested in his ass in general.

Unfortunately, Demyx was not like Xaldin. He could actually talk to the latter, and the getting of ass was mutual between them and very fun when one got down to it. If Xigbar thought about it, there wasn’t really anything wrong with Xaldin-ass in general other than the fact that is wasn’t Demyx-ass, which wasn’t really a problem other than the fact that he was interested in that ass, and Xaldin . . . .

Had no opinion, or his striped ass would have been piked to a wall that he couldn’t use his power on to get the hell off of. (And, truth be told, the idea of the Nocturne in a three-way with them . . . . Was reaaaaaaaaallllllllllyyy fucking hot. Really, really, hot. Unlikely to happen, but hot. Not quite ‘in bed with identical twins’ hot, but still ‘I can make them both cum first’ hot.)

Now, the talking issue aside, Xigbar, by all rights, would have already accomplished this goal, save for the following reasons:

Zexion got to him first.

The kid wasn’t over him.

The kid wasn’t interested in anyone else, and, between ‘The Freeshooter’ and the wall, no longer playing with a full deck of cards--and not because the Limey had gotten to him first. (Oh he knew that he wasn’t the only one chasing that ass, he just didn’t give a flying fuck of a damn. ‘Mister Piercings’ could make all the bets he wanted, but if Demyx didn’t want to move on, like hell he was gonna force him to. Because when you didn’t have a heart, even the ‘bad days’ were like a gift from God.)

And contrary to the Gambler’s style--or beliefs--he was not about to get the kid drunk off his ass just to score. So Xigbar continued on in his silent and unfulfilled quest to claim that golden ass.

“Hhee~ey Xiggy? Solaris to Xiggy! This is ground control calling, we’ve made it to the big-man’s room!”

Xigbar blinked and regarded the door. “So we have, squirt. Got your ‘stack’ ready?” He pointedly chose to ignore the aquamancer’s pout at the undignified nickname.

“You’re a real meanie, Xig-bat!” Go around thinking he was all show and no talent. Didn’t these people know how easily he could kill all of them? When the graying brunet laughed again, Demyx just huffed and turned to stomp into the room, causing the elder to go chasing after him.

They were greeted by a frowning, haggard Saïx, and Xemnas was in a kind of open-eyed semi-meditative trance. The pair looked to have deep shadows under their eyes, yet as they drew closer, the bluenet looked up at them and actually sighed in relief.

“Thank Luna; Number IX is here, master.”

“Excellent.” He closed his eyes, preparing to transition his attention away from mentally commanding the large reserves of lesser and mid-caste Nobodies. All the active numbers had their orders and knew, more or less, what the plan for containing the renegade was. With a light wince, Xemnas opened his sunset eyes to regard the pair before him, both of whom had confused and worried expressions on their faces.

“I’m positive you both noticed the absence of activity when you entered the castle?” Nods. “Good. I’ll be brief: Number IX, I need you to relate to me everything you know about Number VIII.”

“W-what? Why?”

“We have no time for that, Number IX.”

“But if I don’t know what’s wrong, I won’t know what you need, and you guys have files on all of us, so shouldn’t you already know what you need?” They had given Zexion a pretty thorough account of their history.

“Obviously not, or I should not seek to ask such of you.” Really, the boy could be too simple at times.

“Okie . . . Well when we showed up in Twilight Town--”

“We have fully documented dossiers of your time as Nobodies, owing to well-placed Dusks and your later subordinates.” The Superior squeezed his eyes closed against the impending headache to come.

“But you said ‘eight’, and--”

“I implied that I sought information about his other, his life as a Somebody, which our records indicated overlapped with the life of your past self. Now I will ask again--and please do not attempt to argue semantics with me, when we are already in danger of losing several regiments of Nobodies to the machinations of our resident Pyrokinesthetisist--tell me all that you know of your past dealings with Number VIII.”

“What did you do to Axel?”

Saïx growled dangerously and almost lunged at the other. “Did he not make himself clear?”

“Which tells me nothing! You wanna sit here for five hours while I tell you about the first time we got so liquored up we couldn’t see straight, fine. But feel free to take five minutes to tell me what kind of crap he’s done this time, so I can give you a hint on how to fix it!”

Xigbar blinked in astonishment, wondering where his normally reserved and skittish battle buddy had gone to and why neither of the other nothings were trying to rip him in half for talking back to their leader.

Xemnas sighed in exasperation, patience finally lost. “He was being punished for his most resent transgressions during the field mission he was sent on with Number XIII. What those were are unimportant, only that during his disciplinary meeting he seemed to undergo some form of personality shift and tore from this room with all speed and power at his command. He is currently being detained in one of the empty subbasements by all available personnel.”

Demyx staggered back as the information sorted itself out, not quite believing what he heard. “He what?! What Did You Do To Him!?”

Ember eyes narrowed. “That’s not import--”

“YES IT IS</i>! Why Would You Bait Him?!” He knew he was panicking because he knew, and it didn’t look like they knew, and if that was true, they were all screwed.

“Bait . . him?” The darkest male blinked. “What could you possibly mean?”

“You had to have done something to make him snap! So what was this punishment you gave him? What did you do?!”

“That is between he and--”

“Voyeurism.” Saïx closed his eyes as he turned his head away.

Xigbar whistled as the aquamancer blinked. “What?” Blue-green eyes couldn’t quite wrap his head around that.

“Pet--”

“We . . . He is immune to all other forms of discipline. Mental trauma was the only option left. Then, given the prior time he had witnessed us unadorned and the nature of his acts . . .”

“Waaaiiit, waitwaitwait, wait, . . . you made him watch the two of you screw?” Xigbar sighed with a shake of his head. “I knew you were a freaky little kid back in the day, Xemmy, but damn! If you two just needed to spice up your s--” A very loud and threatening wolf growl broke the train of thought he had, and Number II raised his hands defensively before he was mauled where he stood.

“Indelicate, but true.” Xemnas pinched the bridge of his nose. “And it would be during the act that he changed.”

The dirty-blond was thinking, and while he had ideas, they were too unlikely to be true, and there was no reason for Axel to go nuts during a free show. “Okie, let’s start at the top and work our way forward.” He started pacing, not caring that he’d mixed metaphors. “You have our files, right?”

Saïx rested a hand on each of the manila folders.

“Right. Well, it should all be there, in order as we told Zexy, our life and times on Solaris.” So where did he start looking, something to do with sexual adventures?

“And why is this ‘Solaris’ of importance?” Really, was it any wonder why he didn’t entrust any of the more important missions to the absentminded song singer.

Demyx halted and looked at his leader like he was a few puzzle pieces shy of a store. “’Cause that’s where we lived before the Heartless attacked.”

The reaction of the other three was slow, but telling.

“Dude,” Xigbar was shaking his head ‘no’, “I don’t know how to say this little buddy, but that ain’t what’s down in the record books.”

The bardic male slowly shook his head. “No way . . no, we told Zexion EVERYTHING, twice! Once right off the bat, and again when we could all speak the same language! Hell, we were talking about home nonstop--it was how he was able to track our progression of learning! What in Odin’s name is in those files?!”

Without looking, Saïx rattled off that they were both country dwellers from a mixed agrarian and pastoral society on the fringes of the city-world Midgard, the Solaris that the duo referred to was a kind of nightclub. ‘Emyd’ [2] was a professional entertainer, and ‘Lea’ [3] had been something of a blade for hire.

“That idiot . . .” Demyx collapsed where he stood. “That Idiot!” They had no idea what was lurking inside their organization. He couldn’t even feel Xigbar place a hand on each shoulder in an act of a soothing manner.

“Number IX, explain.” Cold amber frowned. This did not bode well.

“He told me once . . . that long ago, in the beginning even, that our home wasn’t a world, but a ‘planet’, a world of worlds . . . He said back then, the planet was called Midgard, that the Gods had given it that name because it was in the middle of everything.” His eyes were dull, unseeing, as he leaned heavily on the Xig-wall at his side.

“Yes, yes, quite interesting, Nine, but we don’t have the time.”

Dead-sea eyes swung up to meet uncaring suns. “Then get Luxord in here to make time. Because depending on what the fuck set him off--depending on if he really has been set off, you just fucking killed all of us and every other mother-fucking world out there.” He pulled himself from the ground and stood, unknowingly throwing the sharpshooter from him. This was not the ‘jolly singer’ of missions past; this was the down to bones killer that lurked behind the winning smile.

Whatever retort either of the controlling Nobodies had ready was headed off by the blond continuing his part.

“In the beginning, there was Midgard. Shit happened, the darkness came, light split up and took up a piece of every heart out there, but liked the hearts of children best. That wasn’t so hot though because kids get scared; they turn away from people who they think will hurt them. So, Midgard started to break up into millions and millions of points of light that we know today as stars, which are really different worlds, but only a very select few of the cosmos know them to be the scattered hearts of the original planet. Me? I wasn’t born yet, so you’ll have to ask Axel this when we get him in a talkative mood.” [4]

He paused for a breath, making sure that the others were listening and wouldn’t try to interrupt him. “So yeah. When that shit started to hit the fan, Freyr pulled out what you lot would call the ancestor of all Gummi Ships, and loaded my people and the other Gods into it, and went sailing off for a new home. That’s where Solaris comes in, but that’s still a few eons before me or mine. So tell me, anything sound familiar? I say Odin, Thor, Yggdrasil, anything sounding familiar?” There was a pleading edge to his voice, but the others all shook their heads.

“Cripes.” He slapped his hand over his eyes before letting it drag downward. “Cripes, we are dead.”

“Look, kid, I don’t think saying how dead we are is gonna help any. So, let’s get to yer point.” As much as Xigbar enjoyed learning new things, imminent death sort of tempered that curiosity.

“But you people don’t even recognize the names of my Gods!”

“Sorry, we ain’t Pagan.”

“Pagan?” The aquamancer shot the eagle-eyed male an incredulous look. Then he shifted that gaze to trail over the others. “You’re Christ-Children aren’t you? Oh Hel take me, I’m surrounded by Christ-Children. I’ll be burned at stake after all this, I know it.”

“Demyx.” It was unusual for ‘The Luna Diviner’ to address anyone by a given name instead of a title or number, so the blond promptly quieted. “Please . . . we still have no idea what is wrong with Axel or how to fix it.”

The blond shook his head. “That’s the problem: there might not be anything wrong with Axel, and we might not be able to fix what isn’t broken. I mean, ya’ll have no concept of the kind of life we had! You think we were farm-kids! You, I mean holy crap, I finally get why you put me on milk-runs; you thought I was useless all these years! Sweet mother of sanity, you probably thought I’m one of those pansy-assed singers that frolics around all day singing to happy little bunnies and bluebirds! Don’t try lying! You’ve probably thought it each time I said I was a Bard!”

No one denied him, and Xigbar had to turn about quickly before his face gave him away.

“I swear, if Zexion wasn’t already dead, I’d kill him for this mess.” Another sigh. “Maybe I’ll get to do that in our next life.”

“I’d much prefer to continue exploring this life, Number IX. Now if you could get to the crux of your tale, I think we would all be thankful.”

“It’ll come when it comes. I have all the info, I just can’t see it all at once. I mean, how long has Axel been raging? Even if he only started just before we got back, if we aren’t dead by now, it’s a good sign.”

Saïx raised a confused eyebrow. “He’s been enraged since approximately Nine ‘o’ clock last night, and, as you can see, it’s currently Ten in the morning.”

“ . . . Did he go to sleep at any point?”

“No.”

“We’re all dead. But on the bright side, he’s lost power, or we would have been dead for a few hours already. Do You Have Any Idea--No, no you guys don’t because Zexy lied, or you . . . never would have let us stay.” Was that why? Did Zexion lie for that reason?

Xemnas frowned. “That is an over-exaggeration. We needed all capable non-beings available.”

“Of course!” Demyx didn’t seem to hear, as he pounded his right fist into his open left palm. “He never told you because otherwise Vexie would have just kept poking at Axel, which would have just killed us all faster! That’s why he took over the tests! Because if Axel didn’t stay, I would have gone with him, and he wanted me to stay, which is why he had to fake all the information to make it look like he’d already learned everything about us! Damn, Loki would be proud.”

“Number IX!” He didn’t yell normally, but the other’s incompetence was grating on his last nerve.

The melodic one looked at him. “We’re Danes. Back when the Danes kicked ass. Farming was what the women folk did to supplement the real intake. My people are the ancestors of Pirates. Do you understand that? We invented Piracy and made it a way of life! Tell me you’ve at least heard of Vikings?” Nods from around the room. “Good, we’re getting somewhere. And maybe you’ll be able to understand what’s happened here. Vikings fight. We pillage, we plunder, we drink ourselves to sleep, then get up and do it all over again when we aren’t ‘wenching’ and drinking and singing songs of past deeds and other heroes. This is the world I grew up in. This is Axel’s world. Blood, mead, song, and gold. We are the meanest, nastiest, most pragmatic sons-of-bitches that has ever crossed an ocean or ever will cross an ocean! Norns, Saxons, Welsh, don’t matter who or what you are, we will beat you down.”

He took a breath here to order his thoughts. “Now you’re probably thinking I’m still a pushover as far as my people are concerned, and you would be right. But you would only be right because no one there knew that I was a Bard--a real Bard--because being a Bard was outlawed a generation or two before my birth because their power was feared, along with a bunch of political crap that I am sooooo not going into right now. Bards do many things, one of which is act as a living archive of EVERY legend, every story, everything that makes up the history of my people. I Am A Living Tome. A walking library. Trick is, I can only recall one book-story at a time. But another thing we do actually ties into why we are feared and why the Vikings were famous.”

Here the green-blue-eyed blond locked eyes with the bestial Nobody. “Your subordinates get their name from us. We came up with Berserkers, and you sir, are no Berserker.” A threatening growl sounded at the remark. “No, you’ve got the right attitude and fighting style, but real men don’t wear clothes.” Number VII was promptly confused at that remark, and Demyx laughed before explaining.

“They were our elite fighters, the craziest fuckers on any world, all riled up and let loose on a pathetically unprepared enemy. We’d get the guys all gathered around a fire, invoke the God in charge of such frenzy [5], and then just kept the music going as they ripped off all of their own clothing. Then we’d line them all up in front of the other guys, weapons in each of their hands. They’d scream bloody nightmares before charging in, all rage and snapping tempers, and the other guys usually pissed themselves because there was a mad-fuck coming at him dressed just in what the Gods gave him and those kinds of people did not fight logically. They fought like wolves. But they wore wolf skins, and even prayed to the biggest, baddest wolf around, so it fits. And the people leading them into these kind of trances? Bards. We sung the songs, we stirred up their hearts. Our music was more than music; it was magick in sound, and we blessed them and gave them strength and speed that the other guys didn’t have.”

Xemnas took all the information in stride. “And what of your past self? Could he do all those things?”

Demyx chuckled, and summoned his sitar. “Merlin has his wand . . . Yen Sid has his hat.” His fingers gripped the neck of the instrument tightly. “As long as I have my voice and my will, I need nothing else.” Then a malicious smirk cut over his face. “But I’m not on their Wizarding level. The Heartless killed me too soon. But it was only a matter of time. I was being trained by my own Gods. See, that’s the thing with us Danes: our Gods were actually a part of our daily lives. There were two groups, the Aesir who were, more or less, the human backing half, and the Vanir who were the inhuman ones, the earthy deities if you will. The Aesir were just like normal humans, but with better powers. Wasn’t a big thing if Odin was hiding out in a town drinking in the same bar as you. By the same token, though, you had to do something in order to knowingly make direct contact. Unless one or the both of you were righteously drunk. Water, unfortunately, was not filtered and cleansed back home like on some of the more modern worlds.”

Xigbar’s eye went wide. Things were starting to fit into place. Given Zexion’s back story for them, it made little sense why both would have become Nobodies, but if ‘Emyd’ palled around with Gods, and ‘Lea’ hung out with him . . . “So you were special because you were a Bard, and you interacted with your Gods?”

“Yep.” He twirled his instrument in place.

“What could you have possibly done to gain favor with them?” The moon-blessed Nobody was reeling from the knowledge.

A wide, almost mad grin broke over the sea-smelling musician. His eyes lit up in a way that that almost seemed to scream, ‘You’ll regret ever asking me that.’ He licked his lips and said but one word:

“Axel.”

No one spoke.

“You see, Lea was never his name. It was a name we came up with so he wouldn’t be lynched each time we strolled into town. Sure, that wouldn’t have worked on him, but it would have worked on me, and that would have just pissed Lea off. Now pay attention, kids, because my mythology is not for the faint of heart!” Then he laughed, long, loud, and dead sounding.

“Let’s skip the first few Gods, some of the ones on the sides, and head straight to the big names of the story. ‘Odin One Eye’, ‘The Raven-God’, ‘The All Father’, the head of the Gods. He’s the ruler with his famous kid, Thor. The other biggy is Loki, trickster God extraordinaire. And, by and by, a fire giant, as well as a shape-shifter. Now to put it in terms that you Christ-followers can understand . . . We don’t have a Heaven or Hell based on the same morals as you lot. If we did, Odin would rule over Heaven, and Loki’s daughter Hel would rule over Hell--and yeah, she’s where that word comes from--but oddly enough, it’s Loki who you would liken to that Satan guy. Are you all paying attention? Because that shit is very important to what’s happening now.”

He took up his sitar with both hands before spinning it down and bridging his fingers together over the head of the instrument. Then he rested his chin on his hands. The others might wonder at his actions, but it was all part of the act--both of magick and entertainment. It was practiced, the visual play giving his mind the time it needed to call up the history tucked into each fold of his brain, steeped in every pore of his lifeless body, etched into the marrow of his bones. To look on all knowledge at once was to go mad, unless the one looking was a God, and even then Odin sacrificed an eye for the sip that let him become all knowing. And Even Then! He only knew ‘everything that was’ up until that point in time when he drank! Everything after that, he had to send Huginn and Muninn out each day to gather up news of it!

“Loki had a troop of kids, three broods from three wives, and one son from a fling with a stallion. See, this is kind of funny, but it’s goes with being a shape-shifter. Don’t ask why he had to, but he had to change into a fully functional mare as part of a ploy to keep a giant from completing a contract on time. Well, he liked playing his part a little too much and ended knocked up. Gave birth to his eldest son Sleipnir, an eight-legged horse that he gave as a gift to Odin. That’s important too, because it sets up everything I’m about to tell you.” A pause for drama and for breath.

“As said, Loki had three wives. Glut, wife one, doesn’t mean too much, other then being a fire user of some sort and giving him his daughters, Einmyria and Eisa, and making one big fiery family. Wife three is a little more important, but not by much. Sigyn she is, faithful to a fault, mother of Narvi.” His eyes thinned again, then he smiled mercilessly.

“Guess you’ve figured out I have to go through the whole song to get to the information I need. That’s the thing: I can’t always know it because only Odin can have that kind of knowledge. It’s all stored inside me, but I have to search for the info I need. Well, here’s where things get a little crazy. History got fucked up, and some people say that Narvi had a brother, Vali. Well I never saw that guy, so I can say it’s a crock of shit because all he would have been is redundant. Loki had another kid who was all said ‘Vali’ would have been good for and more.”

He closed his eyes, smiling over the memories. “Angrboda was wife two, and she is the one everyone remembers. She is the giantess who gave birth to Loki’s monstrous brood.” His eyes opened again, but there was no light in them. “I already mentioned the ghoulish Hel. Her other brother was the world serpent Jormungand, a nasty S.O.B. who’s all coiled around the world, sleeping at the bottom of all oceans, waiting for the final day to stretch out and rip it apart and cause all kinds of flooding.”

He stopped and leaned back. “That only leaves one son. Just one. The most famous son. There are stories of him, there are legends and legacies across worlds of him. I said Loki was like the devil, right? Well this kid would be the Antichrist. This kid is why Vali isn’t real. This kid is why Berserkers wear wolf skins. This kid is the original, the core of all your worst dreams, wrought in furry flesh and snapping jaws. This kid is as vicious and cruel and calculating as his father. This kid is a trickster through and through, and he’s always starved no matter how much he eats. A lean and hungry wolf. If we pillaged and raided, we did it for income. He does it for kicks. He rapes and kills and feasts because he’s fucking bored all the time. He is a predator, a killer, and the progenitor of many, many bloodlines. You want to know where all your monster wolves come from? WereWolves? Dire-Wolves? Hell-Hounds? Multi-headed monsters?! He was the first, and true, Big Bad Wolf! He is the beginning of all nightmares! That Oogie Boogie ain’t got shit on him! This guy has one job, and one job alone: he WILL Eat Half Of My Gods on the final day of battle, and he will Eat Odin before he’s finally killed by one of The All Father’s sons. He is a shape-shifter like his father, though all he could do was wolf to human, and all points in-between. Like his brother before him, Loki gave him away as a gift to Odin because that was Loki’s thing, protecting his own ass. But the kicker is they couldn’t control the pup, so they had to call in the dwarves to build a chain fucking strong enough to hold him down. You Christ-Children say your God put a rainbow in the sky to remember not to flood the world? We say it’s there to keep this fiend at bay! He is a drunkard and womanizer, a glutton, a slob, and the worst possible enemy you could ever hope to face because when he’s done with you, there won’t even be bones left for his pups to gnaw on! His apple didn’t fall far from the tree because he’s his dad in fuzzy miniature! You say he can’t be that powerful?! Look at what happened in Castle Oblivion!”

Demyx pitched forward, letting the sitar rest on his shoulder, as both hands rested on the spellbound audience’s desk, bringing him to eye level with his superior.

“He’s been dead for five years. But congratulations folks: you revived Fenrir.”

“NO!” Everyone turned to look at the panting Saïx. “He can’t be--that fool can’t be the remains of Fenris!”

“Oh, and my decade and change of life with him means nothing?”

“I fought his spawn! They almost destroyed my world!”

“Some of his brood. He was a God; his seed could have gotten anywhere. Not to mention, our people were prone to traveling.”

“But the ‘Fen Dancers’, the ‘Black Wolves’, ‘Spiral Howlers’, the ‘Fangs of Fenris’, to think they came from-from that!”

“Never heard of them.” Well maybe now he’d find out what they did to piss Axel off bad enough to make him go all wolfy.

“Horrid creatures, not fit to be called Lycanthropes. Tainted by human greed and led by foul spirits, they shunned the ways of Luna and Gaia and of Garou in general. They banded together under the first name, starting out as one pack, before growing into a true problem well before I was born. Garou are not made, but birthed, but those creatures do not respect the natural order, and they would turn any they can get their claws on into savage beasts like them.” Saïx's teeth had grown sharper as he spoke, remembering nights best left forgotten.

A skeptical blond brow lifted. “And you know this because . . .”

Saïx drew himself up, chest puffing out slightly. “I am Garou.”

Demyx sighed, now getting the full picture. “And you mated in front of him.”

“More or less.”

“You really are a bitch, aren’t you?” A threatening growl. “I mean it in the technical sense--”

“Why Does That Matter?!” Clawed fingers twitched, ready to take off his head.

“Pheromones.” All was still again. “Wolves, like most other critters, have mating seasons. So did Fen-Fen. Thing is, Fenrir’s been alive since just this side of forever. Most of the stories about him are from his puppy days; he’s probably only been a teenager and young adult for the last ten millennia, which is still plenty of time for his dad to sneak him out of the cage for a booty call every so often. And the ones he mated with most? Other wolves, which is where the whole monster wolves comes into play along with werewolves and so forth. Crazy, but that’s the thing. You at least should know about the importance of scent during sex. Which means, for one reason or another, he was horny, or is horny, or somehow went into heat.”

Xemnas pinched the bridge of his nose in disbelief. He’d wasted five years of valuable study time all because of some misguided effort of mercy on Number VI’s part. “So, our bodily scent drove him to act?”

Demyx pointed at the silveret. “You, not too much.” Then at the other. “You, yes. But only if you were a girl. Because Axel’s an alpha, a supreeeeeme alpha, the alpha of alphas. Hell, he’s only taking orders from Xemz because he’s got nothing better to do. He comes close to killing me each time I top him, and I only get that slack because he knows me so well and he fucking killed Zexion.”

“What?!” Xemnas roared, shooting up from his chair.

“Oh, sorry.” His tone was biting, bitter, and in short, sarcastic. “He wasn’t supposed to have told anyone but you what went down in Castle Oblivion, right? Well, he told me because Loki isn’t the kind of guy to take orders, so why should his chitt-lins? And right after he told you, too. So, I own him for, well ‘ever’, because he used that stupid wind-up dolly to kill my Sexy-Zexy, and given how close the two of us were to proving you wrong, I’m never going to let him live it down.”

“Prove . . . me . . . wrong?”

“Short version? Zexion and I were in love. Full-blown, emotional, gut wrenching, this is the real deal, kind of love. Just being near each other stimulated our memories of our emotions. But it did more than that because both of our Heartless are scrapped, so both of our hearts are free. We grew closer to each other, and it started to happen. Day by day, we could feel the connection to our hearts grow a little stronger, a little clearer. Sometimes when we made love, we could really feel our hearts beating. If the calculations Zexion left behind are worth a damn, I’d say we would have gotten them back by the end of this month, if not already. How’s that feel? To know if you had waited a few months, you would have had proof, hard evidence, that a Nobody could be reunited with their own heart?” He was tired and angry, and these idiots had woken up a beast better left for dead. “The real trick now will be putting Fenrir back in his cage. Axel’s lost as long as the wolf is out and about.”

Demyx closed his eyes with a tired sigh and pushed away from the others. He slung his weapon onto his back, turning as if to head out the door.

“Number IX, what do you think you are doing?”

He shook his head, looking over his shoulder at the leader. “I told you: my songs had power over his followers, and the Gods gave me access to magick only masters like Merlin and Yen Sid could match. I’m gonna try to calm his ass down, maybe put him to sleep.” He opened a dark portal before him, thinking sadly on the matter. “Ya’ll really had no idea what either of us could do. Five solid years and no clue.” Then he smirked and looked back at the leading pair. “I can’t do jack with time or space, and void was probably the last thing I would have learned. But I could whistle up a fair breeze when needed, and my world was half made of ice for starters. Earth wasn’t all that hard to move, and illusions were some of the fist ‘cants’ they showed me. I could stir up emotions in my wake, and I still can cause a frenzy if I so choose. Fire was an ally of mine, but never as much as water, which I use proudly today. Greens grew at my call, and I was just getting the hang of lightning. But mark my words, I couldn’t work the kind of light we’ll need to hold him down. Naminé is gone, so the only one who might have a chance at that is Roxas. But we’ll see, we’ll see, after all. . .”

He stepped into the portal before turning to fully face them. “If I had lived any longer, I would have been The Organization.” And then he stepped through.

Xigbar just stared after the blond, slowly realizing that Demyx really wasn’t as sane as he had led the others to believe.

* * * * * * * *

The heady scent of burnt ash swirled over the walls of the room. Claw marks zigzagged over scarred concrete and other materials that didn’t quite have a name to be called by. The sound of a caged beast rebounded off the edges of his prison, as did the bodies of things that weren’t quite real, weren’t quite dream. Creepers flew over the heads of Dusks, some in shield form, some like swords, and the ones with feet made their last stands as chew-toys before the leftovers of ichor and dust splattered on the floor.

A wailing howl sounded, the noise of which could have driven grown men mad, and then there was the bodily thud of bone meeting with an invisible barrier. More snaps and yawls, screeching claws raked at bars that could not be seen. The Snipers had filled him full of tranquilizers and holes, the only reason why the Sorcerers could keep him at bay. The Dragoons had pinned him to the floor over and over again, but each time only his robe was caught. Samurai stood ready to cut him down, but even they only touched tattered black. The Berserkers couldn’t fit in the room, but they did what they could and stayed just outside the basement door, waiting for the mad-dog to break through. The Gamblers took turns betting and throwing in cards and dice to keep him on his toes, keep him from getting too close to escaping, and were ‘spat’ on for their troubles. And so all learned of his acidic spittle. His Assassins could not approach him, could hardly hear Xemnas’ orders over his influence, and the Dancers didn’t have instruments like their master. Together, those two subsets did a mad corkscrewing dance, back over the shattered remains of dust that never was, fire’s children and water’s joy, and if not for that balance, the space would have been filled with mad little children who had died before they were born.

Fenrir howled and lunged for the door.

Xaldin, Luxord, and Roxas had been taking turns on the watch in that they all were at the ready, but only one of them was allowed to sleep at any time, leaving the other two awake. The Berserkers and all the Nobodies who couldn’t fit into the subbasement were overflowing in the stairwell and short offshoot of a hall, and they were behind them as a last line of the blockade. Xemnas was overseeing this, mentally connected with all of them, even the higher-ranked ones. But those three minds he couldn’t bend to his will, only order and be positive that they wouldn’t exercise their freewill at an inappropriate moment. Saïx was with him in the study to keep him awake so he could keep his hold on the Assassins, who were still trying to do as AxelFenrirLea was thinking.

Demyx didn’t know all of this but was aware of most of it, thanks to his Dancers. He popped over by the other numbers just long enough to tell them that he was going in before he made it clear that he needed his people to make sure there was space enough for him to work in there. But as he moved and walked and talked, it was like a cold, controlled fury, like he was at long last embracing the truth that he was emotionally dead. His music was short, staccato, clipped. No tenor trembling, but a near baritone ordering. The salt-sea musician had to portal past the heavy guards, but when he was in the room, he didn’t really care for anything, other than getting the lupine to listen.

He opened a window portal, reached through, and got his playing mat, the towel sized blanket he laid out when he wasn’t playing on traditional furniture. It wasn’t for him as much as for his sitar that would have to rest on the scratchy ground-down concrete otherwise. He sat on it with his legs folded, bent like triangles at the knees [6], body of his blue-muse braced against one leg, as her neck stretched before his torso. With loving fingers, he plucked her metallic hair and made of her to sing, sing of songs and wars and nights and deeds and things he had never lived through but would always remember until the day came when a claw or Key would break his Remnant-Heart.

Fenrir shifted to regard him, human body turning so his weakened ears could catch the sound. His eyes were like bright neon, feral and watching, and alive with animal thoughts.

The un-mortal Bard added his voice to the Lay and wove a tale of glory, sorrow and love. He lamented of feasting halls, home, and the wild sea, family, battles, lore on lore. This sound was his magick, and his magick was his heart, and his heart was music, the most perfectly raw and real of sounds.

Fenrir was never as stupid as he let on, and he could smell magick coming from the whine of strings. He recognized the honeyed scent of the ocean, though, so it followed that the spell was weak, but mercifully complicated, slow to take its lingering effect. And, the redhead had been nostalgic lately, thinking of long nights with tasty blue-eyed blondes, and children he hadn’t seen in decades and decades of decades. What monstrous broods had he left to the worlds? Had they killed all of the Christ’s children? Those destructive Christians--Christ-followers--had done his kin no kindness and forgotten the word of their own lonely God. To believe in one God was to have faith in solitude, and humans were herd animals--social creatures as they liked to style themselves. They would say to worship one God was to worship one word, and that one word was ‘love’--at least that’s what the sane ones who could read the true meaning of the works said, and Lea found that he could agree with them because they were the kind of believers who understood that there was more than one faith out there.

Emyd was trying to put him to sleep. Hmm, did he really want to let him? He hadn’t killed much of anything, but he was hungry, and if he behaved like a good little ‘Axel’, they’d let him out to feed.

There were days when he wondered if the other Nobodies (sans Demyx, Rox, Nami, and Sex) separated their pasts from their presents and possible futures, having many personalities instead of one fluid shift in what they called themselves to others’ faces. He was born Fenrir, had lived and died and been reborn Fenrir, and kept one mind, one personality through the whole deal. Xemnas outright disowned who he once was, forsaking the memories and false echoes that should have been there. Demyx was like him, Emyd to the core. The golden children had never known who they were, so they were something different but equal right off the bat.

The music maker was good at his job, he’d give him that much credit. But he’d always tended towards digression. So Axel settled himself down, hunkering close to the ground, yawning once to show off his long fangs, and curled in on himself the way only canines--and maybe some felines--could do.

Then he flipped onto his back because ‘He Was Fenrir, Bitches!’, and who was suicidal enough to try approaching him? Sleepy wolf grumbles drifted from him, and he wiggled to get comfortable; all the other Nobodies were far away and wondering why he wasn’t trying to eat more of them. Then he stilled and sighed and let his mind go blank.

Demyx played for a little longer, watching as the wolf mind sunk down and the immortal god mind--which most (non-)beings confused for a human mind that was separate from the wolf tendencies--took the controls again. Better to say his inhibitions and discretion and commonsense were no longer restrained.

When he knew that it was safe, he stopped his music, ordering the other little nothings to fly from the place. He un-summoned his sitar, and, rising, made his way over to the sleeping male. Axel snored lightly, but was otherwise mostly Axel. He bent low; Axel with claws. Demyx sat, hovering over and examining him. Axel with longer, redder hair. Oceanic-eyes poked through torn cloth and trailed over healing skin. Axel might have had denser muscle tissue, but he was still a stickman. Ah, one slightly green and glowing puncture wound showed him why the tranquilizers had no effect: his body was expelling the liquid through the wounds it entered by. The musician watched the substance trickle over faded skin for a few moments before coming back to reality. And he knew it was time to drag the other back with him.

He gently started to jostle the wolf’s shoulder. “Hey, hey Ax? Time to get up, buddy.”

“Ffive moar min’its.” He was having the best dream involving Barbecued Babies. Mmmmm hickory.

“Fine. Makes it easier to fuck you.” He smirked as the other jolted upright, still half dazed.

“I’m up, I’m up.” For a moment, then Axel felt the pounding of his head and leaned backwards. “I’m down.” A few blinks and he had enough of his bearings to ask. “What happened?”

“You woke up.” He smiled sadly.

A scoffing snort. “Dude. Something I didn’t know.”

“Mmm. Memories all jumble-y?” A nod. “Right. You went all Fenny.”

He was slow to react, as if he didn’t quite believe what he was being told. He sat up, still questioning the blond’s meaning, but the other just sighed and brought up one of the firebrand’s hands and stripped off the glove to show him his elongated claw-nails.

The explanations went a little smoother from there, and his memories started to un-fog. By the end of things, he was almost rolling on his back, laughing maniacally because this was all too much to handle in a sane, rational manner.

“Oh Fates,” he was still laughing and panting from being short of breath, “oh Fates they, they had no idea, no idea.”

Even Demyx’s eyes were watering. “They really didn’t. Zex doctored the records.”

“Doctored. . . ” And he was laughing again because he had to tell the other what he’d learned. In all the gory details. Starting with the raid of ‘Fox’s Coop’ or whatever that store was called.

“Oh gods. But it’s not like we don’t use those things still. So he made you watch as they acted out a bad ‘naughty schoolgirl’ porno, just because you picked up stuff we were low on instead of letting each of us buy our own as we needed it? Fuck that logic.”

A warm sigh left him. “Yeah. Trippy.” He smiled before a little of the euphoria of possibly being able to break out of his confining little human-shaped body ebbed away. “I did other crazy shit.”

Demyx rolled his eyes and pushed at his shoulder. “You always do stupid-crazy shit.”

A shrug from the redhead. “I told Roxas about how he and Nami weren’t made equal to us. That we got to keep our memories--

“AXEL!-”

“Not who he was! I said nothing about Sora to him. Some complicated crap went down. It’ll take me time to explain it all, but before that, I promised Rox I’d tell him about who at least I was.” His frown grew.

The mull-hawked musician tilted his head to the side in contemplation. “I’m guessing your re-acquaintance to yourself sort of put the fear of rejection into you?” He had known him for so long that even if he hadn’t randomly screamed out the shorter blond’s name one night at the peak of their mock-perfection, Demyx still would have known that the crimson-spiked Wolf-God had it bad for thirteen.

“Eh. I think he can deal with . . . . yeah, I’m not telling him about the bad shit. We’ve done some seriously fucked up crap ‘round here, but it’s not even close to the gore factor from back home. His mind’d break.”

The aquamancer would not say that it also made him look better not to admit to all of the atrocities he’d ever committed. Death, fine. Looting, a given. Boozing, sexing anything willing, fighting, cursing--all a day in the life. But raping? Eating live victims whole or in parts? Torture where he could keep them alive for as long as it entertained him? No, going into those kinds of details would affect anyone with a heart or strong enough remnants of a heart. And given that Sora--Roxas’ heart--was still alive, it wasn’t too big of a stretch for the blond to have a metaphysical connection to the bubbly brunet. It would explain why he was different from Sora and still capable of feigning emotions if Roxas was in fact a living facet of a sub-personality-- . . . or maybe just a hidden facet of Sora’s personality, one that was darker and a little more sardonic, snarky, and slightly cynical but still just as innocent if not as naïve. Although, if connected, that meant Roxas wasn’t totally feigning emotions. Half feigned. Maybe if he got close to his heart, he’d be able to feel, like him and Zexy . . .

They sat in silence for a time, Axel looking pensive, and Demyx with a forlorn look of reminiscence.

Outside of the room, the worlds continued on, including their illusionary dream of ‘never was’.

“Ya know,” the flame-thrower started, “I get ‘what’ set me off, but not the ‘why’ or ‘how’ . . .” He had no idea how long they had sat in disquiet, only that the lack of sound had unsettled him.

“Mmm. So you’re not horny?”

A deep sigh. “Didn’t say that. Just don’t have it up. Couldn’t hurt to get it up, but I’m less in the mood for fucking than I am for food-ing.”

“Food--oh, you haven’t eaten in a few hours, and you went without sleep.” Something familiar about that . . .

“Damn, I lost track of time. How long was I raging?”

“About thirteen hours, give or take.”

“Shit, and I was starving since mid-act of those freaks.” He thought about what he wanted to eat and laughed. At his watery companion’s questioning eyebrow, he smirked. “I wanna grab a mutton chop and two pints of ale. Actually, I think I want a rack of lamb to go with the chop and a small suckling pig on the side. You know, the usual, but . . . more.”

“Yeah, you would want something like that for a meal.” He started to prepare to climb to his feet.

“Fuck, that was just the appetizer. I could fucking bring down a cow!” Oh yeah, the idea of tucking into a whole grazing beast had his mouth watering already.

Demyx blinked again. An internal warning flag was blinking at him, and he pulled his sitar back from the void. Even as Axel looked on in confusion, he just started to strum away.

“Dem?”

“Looking for memories.” Something was doing a slow click in his head. He could almost feel the pieces falling together.

His eyebrows lifted past his spiked hairline. “Memories of what?”

“Life. Our life. Latter years.” A sudden chill ran down his spine, telling him that he was missing a part of the equation. But if he could get an idea first--“Why would they punish you with sex?”

“The toy-shop. . . Shopping without permission . . . . sad excuse for Xemnas to get laid more than once a day.”

“Why would you antagonize them?

“Hello, it’s what I do? ‘Sides I didn’t get shit just to get shit. I got shit for a reason.” He folded his arms and puffed his chest out proudly.

“Which was?” That chill again.

The animalistic grin of pure happiness that broke over his face was almost telling enough. “I laid Roxas.”

The chill that ran through the tawny blond rocked him to his core.

“Oh Dem, it was--Loki’s horns, he didn’t even know about the IDEA of sex! He kinda understood that things made more of themselves, but couldn’t visualize how. And oh, oh, OH, did I love explaining it to him. That cute little round butt, ah those blue-blue eyes and his fluffy blond hair, and his skin! His skin was so soft it should be a crime! He was like, he was like--”

“Like every other woman you’ve ‘mated’ with.” His voice was hollow, and the outer rims of his eyes had the crackling hint of sparking mystical energies. “Just like every woman you ever touched. Blue-eyed blondes with attitudes that could hold their own in a fight with you or your wit. Soft things that could hold your interest and withstand your passion.” His aqua-green eyes cut over to the other. “Like everyone you sought out when in heat.”

“N . . no, my body is dead. Zexion did the tests; my body was no different from--”

“You’ve been getting hungrier the longer we stay here. At first you were eating all normal like, but over the years, you started to pick up a bit on the intake. Zexion had stopped testing by then but still chalked it up to you having a super fast metabolism that let you use your fire magick by burning out your calories. It might have been a pain, but I think if he at least kept up with examining you, he would have found . . . . something science-y and different.” The indicated redhead looked at him skeptically. The blond shrugged. “You were a God, once.”

A cocky grin. “Still am, dude, still am. Just had my powers and form tweaked, but last I looked, I was still immortal.”

‘And immoral.’ But he knew better than to bring that up now. “Right, meaning you were and maybe still are physically different than the rest of us. Like on a basic building blocks level. Still, you’re eating more--or at least your body wants to. I’ve had to stuff pillows in my ears a few times when you’ve been too tired to get the hell out of my bed afterwards.”

“It’s still so impossible . . .”

“Then let’s do the math. When was the last time you were in heat?”

“That depends. Was the last one with the twins or the barmaid?”

The Nocturne grinned. “They were all barmaids and tavern-wenches.”

“No not all.” Axel lightly defended himself. “Some were seamstresses, and a few were schoolmarms.”

“Whatever. And not the twins. So about how long do you go between lustings?”

“Few years, average. Sometimes more.” He started to absentmindedly scratch a calendar into the floor with one of his chakrams. He was reverse engineering the date of his last fling.

“What was her name again? Something familiar. Kind of an animal sounding name, right? What was it, duck or swan or hawk--”

“No, eagle. Something eagle.” A few more moons, a few more seasons, so many nights of twilight. . .

“Oh. Oh! Right, light! Amora! [7]”

“Yeah! The one tavern owner! Damn she had a huge rack. Was into herbalism too, hard-core healer. And she had the most beautiful voice--I told her that after she was done screaming each time.” His eyes had a hazy gleam to them.

“And what was that, three, four years before Solaris died?”

“Closer to four, if not five. I still don’t get why you aren’t legal until eighteen ‘round these worlds.”

Demyx chuckled. “We lived hard and died young, so you had to be married by twelve and pushing out kids by fifteen, sixteen. Good thing I looked older than I was so you could get away with ducking out and changing into an ‘older guy’--funny how you didn’t need to do that too often.”

A shrug of lanky shoulders. “The older you get, the younger you hunt.” Then he sighed because he was thinking of Roxas yet again.

Blond locks shook their head. “Hopeless. So, dude, that would have put her eight to ten years ago--with you sticking closer to ten.”

“Let’s go with nine for the math.”

“Fine, nine. How does it plug into things?”

“Means I’m due. Which is, again, impossible because my body died!”

Demyx thought and thought and thought some more, strumming a little as he did because he was trying to think of how Zexion would handle this because it would make sense for him to have mentioned something that could help him think about this problem. “Well . . . let’s pretend that you didn’t die. When would your next craving have hit?”

Axel sighed but grudgingly thought it over. “If I had to guess . . . . the most likely window . . . would have to be . . . three years ago. Not to the day, but yeah, three years ago.”

A nod. “How is it that you go into heat anyway? Like other wolves?”

“No, not exactly. See, they rely on the changing of the seasons. Once each day has the right kind of temperature and the right amount of sunlight, their brains flick a switch, and their bodies start pumping out chemicals. I just have an internal clock that ‘dings’ when I’ve gone too long without a regular face to fuck--ya know, ups the odds I’ll have kids? At least with humans. Damn they have a long germination time, and fucking hell! Ten plus years for ONE generation? Cripes . . .”

“Hey, it worked for us. So, how did you pull out of heat?”

“Simple. I could smell the kids coming, and that cooled me off. Or too many seasons would go past, and I’d have to pull myself away because it was a giveaway that she was either using charms to prevent pregnancy or she was just barren. I needed to procreate. A lot. Tons. It’s what I did, how I was built.”

The sitarist smirked. “So that’s why you’d eat. You burned through calories with all the sex!”

Jungle eyes laughed. “Hey, it’s considered good exercise on some worlds, so why not? It’s healthy fun that’s good for you and society.”

“I’ll second that.” But then he struck a chord, or maybe the chord struck him, and Demyx furrowed his brows, almost feeling Zexion pulling the pieces together for him from beyond the void. “Ax . . . your body still pumped you full of chemicals during rut, right?”

“Yeah, based on my internal clock, which stopped when we died.”

The blond bit his lip. “What about after we became Nobodies?”

“What about it? We’re still dead!”

“We need to eat and sleep.” He’d had this conversation before.

“Yeah, yeah, Mansex’s bullshit about us being both alive and dead and breaking all other kinds of logic because we shouldn’t exist, but we do, even as we don’t. He’s a fucknut, and we are really, really dead. My clock stopped.”

“Yeah, but I don’t think they stayed stopped. Guess, take a guess at the elders’ ages. When they died and became Nobodies.”

Axel cocked an eyebrow, wondering what the dirty-blond was getting at. But the music-man insisted, so he would humor the other. “I’d say Zexy was mid to late twenties. Lex was like mid thirties. Vexie was probably seventy--or at least sixty plus. Xally has also gotta be late thirties, early forties. Xiggy-pop’d probably be fifty or up. And Xem-cakes is most likely sitting at around forty.”

Demyx smiled. “You won’t like my answer. Just understand, I’m not saying our clocks are normal, but I think they’re slowed. Zexion was about twenty-one. Lexaeus was about thirty. Vexen was actually only in his mid forties. Xaldin was around thirty-three. Xigbar was forty if he was a day. And Xemnas . . . Xemnas was twenty-four. Zexion was telling me about this, but I didn’t believe him at first either, so I didn’t tell you. But now, now. . .” He shook his head. “And the others didn’t know whether to believe him or not, and . . . yeah. . .”

“No, that’s just--” He closed his emerald eyes, trying to order his thoughts. “No . . .”

“When did you start sleeping around on your missions?” The fire-starter had bragged about it the first time and kept up with a running tab for the song-weaver to laugh over. To date, none of the other members screwed around while on the job. Off the clock only, even if it was off world now and then.

His breathing slowed as his eyes widened. “T-three . . . three years ago.” This wasn’t happening, this couldn’t be happening!

“Three years,” he echoed, “and the hunger?”

“It’s always there, but . . . just before, maybe by a month it picked up.” Fuck him. Just, just fuck!

“I’m sorry Axel, but I think you dinged.” He set his sitar into his lap, watching the other gloomily.

The wolfish male held his head in his hands for a long time before speaking again. “I’m fucked.”

“Oh yeah.” A solid pat to boney shoulders. “Big time, my friend, because you haven’t picked out a mate this time around.”

“Roxas.”

“Huh?”

“Roxas. I picked Roxas. I fucking mated with Roxas! I fucking acknowledged him as a Beta! I took him as a beta! Do you get how dead I am now?!” He could have torn out his hair at this point.

“No, not really. Might want to try explaining things.”

“I’ve Been In Rut For Three Years! Three! I’ve Never Been Jazzed For More Than Ten Months! One Month Grace Period, And Nine To Bake The Bun! With Humans! It was like five for the other wolves. Shit! Shit! I Don’t think I can pull myself out this time! I’m fucked! There are no seasons on this Gods-Forsaken World! It’s like that last three years have been one never-ending day!”

“Okie, Aaaxxxx . . . . Aaxx . . . . Calm down. I don’t see how that’s going to be a problem for you and Roxas--”

“Not for Roxas! For ME! He used his Keys on me last time--AND THAT WAS WITH HIM WILLING!” He was dead, he was dead meat, he was already in the ground.

“So what, you’re afraid you’re going to randomly jump down his pants at any moment? Of course you will! But if he liked you the first time, he’ll probably want to ride the pony again. So no sweat. Don’t turn this into a bad soap-opera plot where you’re afraid of ‘hurting the one you love, with your sordid, dark, past’. He’s stronger than most of those daytime drama stars, and--”

At this point Axel grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled his face close. “He had no concept of sex. He was more of a virgin than normal virgins because at least they know what’s going to HAPPEN! He didn’t. No Idea. And he threatened me with Oblivion--both kinds!--even as I was explaining things. He did NOT just roll over and submit; I had to constantly talk him down, and I don’t even know how it all worked out in the end, but I think it was one part curiosity and one part loyal friendship, and I’m still fucked because of afterwards! He’s still all weirded out by me randomly touching him like that! If I make any sudden moves, he either kicks, hits, or pulls out a Key! I’m lucky he’s not using both! If I go all Alpha-love-machine on him, I will be dead before we make it to the mattress! This is not, ‘I need to stay away or I’ll unintentionally hurt him’. This is, ‘I need to avoid him like the plague because he will kill me dead if I lose control around him’.” He shivered at the idea of being ripped apart by one of the few ‘mortal’ weapons that could actually hurt and/or kill a god.

“Oh . . . . Okie. That’s . . . different. Wait, he actually hit you with Oblivion?”

“Ground its teeth into my back to make sure I was telling the truth. Sat in my lap smiling while he was at it, too.” He sighed longingly at the memory.

Demyx blinked. “You wanna go boink him right now, don’t you?”

“Yeeeeessss.” he moaned, even as he released his hold on the other. He leaned heavily on the blond, whimpering slightly to himself.

“Hopeless.”

“I know. . . Dem? Could I, maybe, top? At least now and then?”

He smirked, just a little, because he could. “I’ll think about it.”

“DEM!!” The pyromancer bolted upright.

“My body, my rules, and you still owe me for Zexy!”

Axel violently twitched. If his ‘friend’s’ eyes had been devoid of all that green . . . “Come ooooooooooooonnn! This is an emergency! If I don’t top you, I know I’ll go crazy and throw myself to my death at the hands of Roxy! He’ll turn me into wolf-chunks! He’ll probably even cook me later out of spite!”

“Dude, if you’re in human form, the term is ‘long pork’. Don’t ask how I know, I’m just never going to Port Royal again. Fucking Pirates. Don’t even know cannibals when they see them. ‘Sides, aren’t you fireproof?”

“Sure, but the alcohol that’ll probably be in my veins at the time isn’t.” [8]

“I see. That’ll suck if he doesn’t wait for you to die before he starts deep-fat frying you.”

“Demy.” His tone was a warning growl.

“Dude,” he brought up his hand to ruffle bloody hair, “you are always so pissy when you’re hungry.” He sat back with a smirk. “Let’s go eat.”

“Sweet!” He stood up. “I wanna go into the meat locker! There are nigh whole frozen cows in there.”

“Dude!” The Nocturne made a gagging sound.

“What? I can always flash cook it with my art. Come-on, I wanna pretend I’m stalking something! And having a cow swinging back and forth on a meat-hook is as close as I’m gonna get for now.”

“Oi, do I have to watch or go in with you?” He stood up as well.

“Not with that attitude, but if you could guard the door, that’d be nice.”

“Right.” He watch as the redhead opened a portal. “Aren’t we going to, ya know, let the others know that you’re okay now?”

“Nah, let them sit on their thumbs.”

“He’s out there with them.”

The portal guttered out. “Fuck.”

“Go on ahead; I’ll let them know you’re okay.”

“Don’t tell Roxas. I don’t know how he’ll react to this. He might shrug it off, he might chase me down, he might leave town.” He was already stepping through.

“Right, buddy.” And then he was alone.

Demyx leaned against a wall and contemplated. The beast that had killed the love of his un-life had just asked him for a favor. A very important favor. Could he do it? Could he play nice? The idea of it, of respecting the wishes of something that had once been his friend! He had made peace with what Fenrir was from the day he first understood the stories his parents were telling him. But Axel’s actions? Axel? There could never be true peace with that, only a mask of the closeness they once had.

So the question now was, to leave without saying a thing, or with saying everything? Tell the others and Roxas that Axel was fine, or tell Roxas that Axel was a Satyromaniac with eyes on his blond-ass? Or leave everyone hanging right outside the door? Oh, what fun he could have . . .

Like sickening silver, his teeth slid out from between his lips as a smirk twisted his features. No, no, he would let the tension build. He would let them know that Axel was fine, but that he didn’t want to talk to anyone, least of all Roxas, for fear of hurting him. Yes, play it like he had no idea what was wrong with him but mention that he should be ready to deal with them by dinnertime. Yes, yes, Axel hadn’t thought about that, had forgotten that the brotherhood ate dinner together in the dinning hall when everyone was home. So he would be there, and Roxas would be there, and then Axel would pounce because that’s all the wolf knew how to do. And then Demyx would laugh as he watched the shorter blond tear the filthy creep asunder.

A small chuckle crept out from the back of his throat. He opened a portal, then stepped through it to talk to the others.

* * * * * *

In the meat locker, the wild Axel-beast was silently hunting his hapless prey. The unsuspecting cow carcass continued to swing from its chain, blissfully unaware that it was to be ripped to shreds and consumed cold--or at least colder than safely recommended for humans. The Axel-beast crept closer, hiding behind other cows and whatever else was at hand for him to hide behind, moving closer still. Soon he’d be in position; his feral eyes told him so. His claws ached to sink into bovine flesh, to slide between it and bone, to rip and rend and tear and feast. The Axel-beast crouched low on his hands and knees, preparing to pounce on his frozen victim. His muscles tensed, preparing to propel him forward.

There was the whoosh of a vacuum and the smell of cake-batter before everything went to hell.

“AXEL!”

‘Shit!’ He didn’t dare to get up but quickly looked around. “Roxy? Why are you here?” Nowhere near him, now he had to get the hell hidden. He started to loop away to a corner.

“Coming to find out what the hell you mean! You told Demyx that you didn’t want to see me for ‘the foreseeable future’. Explain, now!” He tried to listen for footsteps that would tell him where the other was.

“Look, it’s not what you think it is--I hope.”

“Axel . . .”

The firebrand hid behind one of the larger cows. “Look, shit’s come up. Shit from my old life that shouldn’t have come up.”

“Well that’s good then.” Roxas started walking in a different direction, thinking he’d find the other. “You promised to tell me about your past life. So start talking.”

“Gods, Roxas, no. Not like this! Not now, please!”

“Don’t You Dare Pull That ‘Another Time’ Crap On Me!! What the fuck did I say about people not telling me shit!? WHAT?!” He was shaking with rage because just like that, just like that, the other was going back on his word.

“Rox,” he closed his verdant eyes in defeat, “you won’t like what I have to say about myself. And besides, it’s not safe for you to be in here too long, not without more layers.”

“I’ll deal. Where the fuck are you?” The latter was mumbled under his breath.

“Dude, Roxas, buddy, right now is a bad time. It’s not safe for me to be near you! I need some time to get in control or--”

“I Told You! I’m Not Weak!” And he started charging towards the direction he thought the anorexic Nobody was in.

“Did I Say That?! Did I?! I Said It Wasn’t Safe For ME! I Know You’ll Be Fine, But I’ll Be Dead! Just trust me, please! I can’t be near you right now or it’ll get bad quick.” Sort of like it was getting now.

“You’re just like everyone else, trying to push me away and keep me from knowing the truth. You think I’ll break from knowing, that I can’t handle what’s out there! How The Fuck Can I Handle Shit If No-One Takes The Time To Teach Me?! If you’re so afraid of yourself, of hurting me, then tell me what’s,” in a flash of green and red, the other robed figure drew himself up before him, “bothering you . . .” Well now, maybe he could get some answers.

“Me hurt you? Hurt you?! Oh no, no that’s not how it works, aibou [9]. Not at all. You wanna know shit, o.k., talking is a two-way street. Are you saying that you’re okay with me randomly jumping you?”

“What? For sex?”

“That and anything else.”

“Maybe--”

“Without warning. Are you square with me finding you, no matter where you’re hiding in this place--in ANY place--and dragging you off to the nearest flat surface to fuck senseless? Can you deal with me when I’m not gentle? When I’m crazy passion and endless hunger and claws and teeth? Can you deal with that WITHOUT using a keyblade on me? Huh?!” So close, so close and he was drawing closer because he could smell his beta, and he smelled sooooooooo good!

“Axel . . .” His blue eyes were hard and dangerous. Axel’s eyes weren’t right, they weren’t; they were like a beast’s.

“I hunt, I kill, I love, I rage, I fuck, I live. Over and over and over until I can’t stand upright anymore.” That scent, that scent, that scent belonged to him, and he growled possessively.

Roxas gritted his teeth and stared the other down. “I won’t break.” He fisted his hands, ready to fight without his Keys.

A strong, pleasurable shudder wracked his lean body. So strong, so beautiful.

So his.

“Run.” His faded red tongue ran over faded red lips. This would be a good hunt.

“What?”

“Run from me, and I’ll follow you.”

“Fat chance.”

“If you love me--if you could have loved me--run. I’ll be there for you at the end.”

The blond laughed. “I could go to the bowls of Olympia’s Underworld.”

“I’ll follow you to Hell itself.” So close, so close, and he could just pounce on him now, really he could.

Defiant, stubborn, uncaring. “I won’t run. Not from you. An idiot like you could never hurt me.”

Axel smirked, lowering himself into a crouch. “We’ll see.” His eyes glinted with anticipation.

“You wish.”

The wolf pounced, opening a Dark Portal as they fell onto his bed.

“Fuckthe-AXEL!”

Said Nobody gave him a love-bite to the juncture of his neck and shoulder. Roxas spasmed in pleasure, wondering what the fuck had just been done to him, before teeth--teeth much sharper and longer than physically allowable by logic!--started to tear and rip at his clothes. The blond oriented himself and shoved at the larger male. That got him away for a second, but Axel was right back on him, claws cutting into black. The shorter one was pissed, and he kicked upward, bringing his shin to connect with the oversensitive groin of the redhead. This didn’t have the effect he wanted, as the lanky wolf just collapsed on top of him.

“Idiot!” And he started flailing and punching and getting his hands free enough for a Key or two. Hell, maybe he should just call in some back-up at this point. Actually, that sounded like the perfect idea, and he did just that. Three Samurai arrived with just a thought.

AxelLea growled, looking at the intruders. The nothings readied their blades as the lithe blond tried to wrench free his own arms. They edged closer without attacking, and Fenrir smirked because intimidation was meaningless to him. The wolf sucked on his teeth, taking aim. The Mid-castes walked closer to their doom. With a grin, Axel spat on them, causing their blades to melt. A soft, throaty huffing of a chuckle, and he watched as they lost track of what to do. Below him, the blond was aghast because when the hell had the castle idiot learned to do that?! And when did his legs get pinned down? Axel had his upper arms in a clawed grip, but when the hell did he pin his legs?!

His sky-like eyes were drawn to one precariously hanging drop of most-likely acidic spittle that looked ready to fall on either his face or his arm. Okay, okay, that was going to hurt if it hit him. “Axel?” His voice was so quiet that the redhead wouldn’t have recognized it without knowing who spoke.

He was silently laughing at the little nothings but turned his head down to his beta, his mate, to see what he wanted. His action jarred the drop, and the saliva fell lightly onto the Key-user’s left arm. The fabric covering it started to hiss.

“AXEL!”

The redhead narrowed his eyes and did the only thing he could do. He took a bite.

“AH!” He could feel the serrated teeth scraping his flesh, and it burned like so many paper-cuts. The redhead continued to bite into the arm of his robe, and then suddenly jerked his head up, ripping open the garment at the point where the acid would have burned him. Of course, the rip went from there, up his arm, and even through the robe proper. The body of the suit had a gaping hole in it, making it all the more tempting to just peel the boy out of it.

The hungry one turned and spat the loose fabric at the subordinate Nobodies, and at that point, their master ordered them to leave and bring back reinforcements. Once alone again, the wolf grinned and went back to the task of getting his groove on. His claws took hold of tattered edges and stripped the cloth off of the young thing’s back. But now Axel was overdressed for the occasion, and given that his current wardrobe was little better than rags, he took a clawed hold over his breast and with one tug, caused his battered robe to essentially disintegrate. Sadly, he still had ragged pants and boots on. Eh, he’d find a way to deal without being clubbed too badly.

“You horny sonofabitch! Let me up! I don’t wanna have sex right now!” All he got in return was a possessive growl as the elder rubbed their bare torsos together. “Dammit Axel, No!” Wolfy noises came and he was being nuzzled and licked and pushed down onto the mattress; large hands working to pull the sheets into a suitable nest. He brought a Key into each hand, preparing to swat the other away.

Yes, yes, a strong and lovely beta, just like he wanted, like he needed, and oh so angry and perfect, and he nuzzled and nuzzled and nuzzled.

Okay, so trying to hit Axel while his arms were pinned down was a problem, but at least the other wasn’t trying to undress him any further. He was a little calmer, and at least content with just nuzzling his neck and nipping at him now and again. Nice and warm, he could have felt safe even as the larger body settled over him (just happy to be by him?). Slow, sensual licks to his face, and he’d curled his long, lean arms around and under his shorter frame.

The lupine-human huffed in contentment, snuggling up to his bedfellow. Mmm, warm, soft Roxas-bunny, all cuddly and Roxas-like under him.

Confusion. Always confusion and warmth with Axel. “Is . . . this foreplay?” A wheezing huffing--wolf laughter?--answered him. “I said ‘no sex’.” A throaty growl and then more nuzzling about his ears. “I mean it!” A sharp nip. “HEY!” Logic broke in half as Axel’s tongue slurped up and over the width of his face. ‘Eeeeeeewww . . .’

A whoosh of space, and a new batch of Samurai were at the ready. AxelLea twitched and growled at the intruders, moving his center of gravity to just above the blond thing whose hips he straddled.

“Idiot.” The feral redhead looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “They’re trying to rescue me.” Another huff. “I told you I didn’t want any sex!”

Grumbly and growly, the lean male bowed his head low to the other’s. “Then what will you allow?”

Roxas did a quick blink because that wasn’t the universal language that was used on most worlds. Hell, that wasn’t even a language he had heard before! Luckily, his keys had heard it before and were still telling him what the other said. “What?”

Fenrir chuckled wolfishly again. “What will my mate allow? You wish not my pleasure, so what is yours? Shall we sport? Shall we sing? Jest? Name it and I will love you thus.” Another kiss to his cheek, leaving a longer trail of his scent.

“Eeeeewwww, Stop That!”

“My mate does not want kisses fair?” So sad, so unschooled.

“That wasn’t a kiss! That was slobbering all over me!” And he pouted up at the stupid redheaded fool. “Why are you talking like this? What’s wrong with you?”

The lanky one smiled down at him with hooded eyes. “Naught but for the joy of sound. For the latter, why nothing that a little Tender Love and Care can’t cure. . .”

“Yeah? Too bad. I stand by my ‘no sex’ idea.” A scowl was beginning to replace his pout.

A throaty laugh before a soft nuzzle to his cheek. “So I’ve heard, my bonnie lad.”

Blue-ice narrowed. “Did you just call me a rabbit again?” Roxas’ grip on his Keys tightened, preparing to attempt a swing.

The wolf laughed outright then. “BON-nie, Bonnie. My ‘handsome’ and ‘lively’ mate. And again I say, what is your pleasure for the day? For I do not seem to be it.”

The blond’s eyes had widened at the loud howling, perhaps one of the others would have heard that? The repeated question had flown over his head, or under his radar, well outside his sphere of interest. The thing he wanted to know right now was, “What happened to you?”

Laughing jungles turned to him, a wolf’s grin on his face. “Right here, right now, I have awoken from world history.” [10]

A flaxen brow arched up, ever so slightly. “Still . . . lost. Look, last I looked, Xemnas had said that you randomly went nuts, then told us to keep you in lock-down. This morning Demyx and Xigbar come home, Demyx talks to you, and then you don’t want to see me. Why? And now you’re all . . . Like this! What happened?!”

Sooty lashes fluttered down, half obscuring feral gems. “My inhibitions were acting up again. They have become most irksome since taking on this wretched prison.” Another light kiss to his nose. “I feared. That is not my true way, not as the God I was or am now.”

Roxas was rightly confused at that. “What could you have been afraid of--Wait! GOD?!? You???” Oh holy crap, he was right?! Not that he’d thought AXEL might have been a god, but he was a GOD?! What Creative Force Would Be Stupid Enough To Let HIM Be Anything Even Remotely Godlike!?

Although that did explain his ego and why no matter what anyone said, Xemnas couldn’t put the shadow of fear or obedience into him.

/Roxas-dono? Should we attempt to free you?/

“Hold that thought.” Sapphires rolled ceiling-ward again. “You, do that explaining thing with the fear and the God-being thing.”

A thin, winding smile worked over the fire-starter’s lips. So his mate thirsted for knowledge? “Hmm hmm. A fair trade for--”

“No sex, and you got it.” He wouldn’t let the other weasel out of his promise.

Axel’s smile split his face wide. “Oh, but of course, of course, there is more to joy than mating. But alas, I was right to worry about the art of pleasuring being all but lost on you.” He lowered his head, eyes still gazing fondly at him. “All but lost, and I’m willing to put forth the extra effort with you.” Another quick kiss to his nose and cheek bones.

“Eeeww.” He lightly protested. Now he was all slobbery again.

His green eyes flicked over to the mid-caste nothingness. Roxas was a creature of honor, meaning that he’d more or less just consented to anything he wanted in order to hear Fenrir’s story. If he took his payment first, he’d have to tell the other as soon as they were both coherent again. If he spoke his part first, the blond would have to lay back and take it without any protest. Win/win. Oh what a happy day this was!

“Will you tell them to leave?” Roxas waved his hand, and they bowed out. FenrirAxel smiled and got off his flaxen beta. Appreciative primal eyes ran over the small one, and the redhead couldn’t help but to sigh contentedly.

Roxas put his Keys away. “What?”

Instead of answering right away, Number VIII stood. “Come. There is one thing I would like to do before we speak.” And he offered one hand to the other, opening a Dark Portal at the same time.

“Where? To do what?” But he took the hand anyway and pulled himself up. “And we need new robes.”

“Not really. We’re going to the ‘Proof of Existence’ room.” And who would be there now? So with a little tug, they had skipped over half the castle’s span.

“But why are we here?”

Axel slowly turned to face him as he made the other do like wise. “Room with me.” The blond only made a questioning sound and tilted his head to the side. “Merge your room with mine. We can do so. The properties of this world, this building, allow it to alter itself as needed--to an extent. We can’t make new space, but we can shift rooms around or walls. We would just be ordering the space differently--like Xemnas and his mate have done.” [11]

“Mate . . .” He squeezed Axel’s hand. It was warm. He was unsure, confused. Sharing a room, did that mean sharing a bed? He looked over at the smiling one. Yes. No way around that. His icy eyes trailed over the lean muscles and washboard abs, down to the faintest hint of red sneaking above the waistline. Well . . . he did like the idiot’s penis. And as long as he didn’t surprise him all the time, Roxas wouldn’t have to beat him to death each night before rolling over to sleep. Was it perfect? No. Was it a possibility? Yes. And he’d get information for doing it.

“Show me how we do this.”

 “Stand on your doorstep, and I’ll stand on mine. But think about going to my room, as I think about going to yours.”

“But you’ve never seen the inside of my room.”

“I don’t need to. Normally, if I wanted to visit you, the doorstep would drop me off outside your door. It only takes the one linked to it into their own room.”

Roxas sighed but let go, following the other’s lead. He did as he was told, standing and thinking of going not to the room his doorstep was linked to, but to Axel’s. When the redhead felt that enough time had passed, he spoke up, letting the not-boy know that they had to take the next step.

So they each entered an archway and stepped out side by side before the same door.

Number VIII placed his hand on the handle and waited. He looked over to the Key-holder, silently encouraging him. Before too long, Number XIII took hold, too, and they opened the door together.

The room was grand. Grander than grand because it looked to take up more space than the total sum area of both of their rooms. The first thing Roxas noticed was that they had a large bay window with a drawn up curtain that ran half the length of a long wall. It was complete with a balcony and a perfect view of Kingdom Hearts as it hovered over the Dark City (and they had a good view of the skyline, too.)

Axel, of course, noticed that the bed was king-sized with red satin bedding.

He broke the handhold, taking a trace-like step towards the light. “How . . . we’re so high, and this room is so big!”

The feral male purred. “I think we stole space from Vexen’s defunct alchemical labs.” He began to saunter over to the bed.

Roxas continued to look around. There weren’t any dressers or bureaus, so where were their clothes? In a closet? But he didn’t see any doors that could lead to one. Oh well, it looked like they had two bathrooms at least, and he went to investigate the one on the opposite side of the room from the bed. He pulled the mahogany door open, noting how it complimented the cream colored walls and ceiling, and was it him, or was the carpet more of a maroon color? His eyes lifted forward to examine the spare bathroom--

Okay . . . they had a walk-in closet for ALL of their clothes. At least Axel wouldn’t be throwing his crap around randomly. It was kinda overkill in his opinion, since they only had work robes and could materialize casual wear (for places where the black would stick out like sore thumbs) with a thought. Sort of. . . It was an odd thing really, how this world and the things in it worked. The clothes could be created with a thought and last forever, as they were. If one wanted to alter them after creation, they’d have to take up needle and thread.

Then there were non-beings like Axel that tended to go through ‘work suits’ like potato-chips.

Hey, a shoetree for their boots! And other shelves for the overflow. There were some stacked drawers that seemed to slide into the wall, and it was there that he found his under things and socks. This was all like the saying, ‘A place for everything, and everything in its place.’

He stepped back out of the closet and made to investigate the bathroom again.

Axel was on the bed, very bereft of his clothing, save for a shiny new pair of gloves.

Roxas narrowed his eyes. “You don’t consider me an equal, do you? If you think I’m stupid enough to get on a bed with you naked, then I’m leaving.” The redhead whined from the back of his throat. “Don’t even bother. I’m not having sex with you.” And he started to walk over to the bathroom looking door.

AxelLea snuggled under the sheets, then patted the top of the sheets as he flashed a lopsided smile.

The blond ignored him and opened the door to their full bath, shower . . . was that a hot-tub in the corner? The pup was whining behind him again, and he turned to glare at him.

Axel shrank back. “But I miss youuuuuuu.”

“Deal with it. I’m not going to roll over just because you’re horny.”

“But I’ll behave! Look, all this space above the sheets!”

“No you won’t.” He couldn’t be weak all the time, or the other would just dominate him as it suited his needs.

“How can you say that?”

“Because I know you.” He turned again to investigate, missing the smirk that wound over faded lips and dead emeralds that narrowed in pleasure.

“Then, aibou, if you knew I’d want this, why did you agree?”

And then Roxas froze. Froze because he hadn’t thought the other’s head was on the right way, therefore he wouldn’t have put it together so fast, so he had taken a chance, hoping to get information before anything happened. But now smooth heat was pressing against his back, and his breath hitched in his throat as warm arms started to wrap around his torso. Warm lips and flexible tongue and firm nips, and he was almost, almost ready to fall.

“A good beta,” he breathed hotly into his ear, “compliments, balances out their alpha.” He licked over the shell of a pinked ear and then smirked. “Even if it means a swift kick to the balls when they get full of themselves.” And he dropped his arms away, stepping back to sit, then lounge, on the bed. “When you’re ready to be honest with me, I can be honest with you.”

Roxas gazed at him, the faded male who was displaying himself. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, thinking over things. A sigh, and he sat on the edge of the bed, starting to unzip his boots.

“So . . . you like how I make you feel. Maybe you even like what I do to you?” A pause, and then a nod. He waited, and the other placed his boots under the bed before sliding himself onto it. Axel shifted, molding his body to fit against and curl around the blond boy. The pillows were soft and deep, Roxas sank into them with ease, staring up into jungle eyes.

Azure eyes fluttered closed with a sigh. Warmth. “Yes. You do nice things to me. But,” he opened his eyes, “but I’m new to this kind of . . . thing. So, sometimes . . . you scare me. Because you do things I’ve never seen you do before, act like you’ve never acted before. And when that happens, I . . . I don’t know what you’ll do, or what I should do, and then it just . . . runs away from me.” He wasn’t looking at the wolfy-male, but off to the side at the floor there.

The Axel-beast scented the air, absorbing the confession. Control . . . his beta liked control as much as he did. Perhaps it wasn’t the kind of control he was adept at, but it was still a sort of control that he could respect. “Good alphas,” he placed a gloved hand on the taut tummy, petting about where the navel would be, “don’t hurt their betas.” He dipped down to nuzzle against the temple of his mate. “Slow and steady, as you like it.”

Number XIII shifted again, turning more towards the lanky other. He liked the concept of slow because that let him notice the little things. It let him see the little curly hairs that started below Axel’s navel, winding down skin and pelvis and making a nest of curls that he was familiar with from last time. “Are you fuzzier?” His fingers reached out, stroking over the crimson patch.

Axel purred out a, “Mmmaaaaaaaaaaybe,” before kissing his forehead again. Roxas scrunched up his nose and told the other to stop slobbering on him. The spitfire chuckled before attempting to lean over him. So they bickered and laughed, and in Roxas’ case shoved, until twenty odd minutes had passed, and the blond thing was straddling his lean hips. Sadly, he hadn’t removed any more of his clothes, but that didn’t bother the chakram thrower.

“You’re beautiful.” His companion titled his head to the side questioningly. Fenrir sighed. “I have so many things to teach you. Pleasure will be the hardest, but the most important and rewarding.”

Roxas shook his head, laying himself down on the other. “I’m willing to learn, remember? Just keep your promise about telling me your history.”

Contemplative eyes looked upon the waiting sky. “My history is long and winding, over more than one world, with changing faces and names. I will tell you of it, yes, but it’s not a pleasant life that I’ve lead. So . . . you know what we do as Nobodies. Taking lives, destroying worlds, all to harvest hearts. But what if a living being killed just for the joy of feeling blood gush over their claws and fingers? To hunt not for food, but for the trill of the chase? To dance death and weave sorrow and sing hymns to chaos, taking all that he could and giving nothing in return.”

A blink. “I think that sounds like an interesting story. Because, I think I’d want to know what makes him act that way. I think I’d want to know about a world were something like that could exist and keep going on with life even as its ripped from it’s surface.”

He gave a wolf’s smile and curled his lean arms around the little blond bundle on his tummy. Why had he ever feared this one couldn’t handle the truth? Such silly things inhibitions were. He’d have to learn to ignore them and trample them down, keep them from interfering with his thoughts and decision making choices.

“Then I shall speak, little one, and you will undress as the mood moves you.” Roxas frowned at him with a glared pout. He smirked, “Give and take, mate, give and take. But move as you are comfortable to, and so shall I.” And another quick kiss the other boy tried to swat away. The redhead laughed and nuzzled, and they rolled again until they were both comfortable on the bed. What to do with him, to do with such a strong mate? “Lay down, mate, lay down your bones, and I will tell you all that I was.”

Number XIII sighed and shifted onto his side, turning to look over his . . . roommate.

Axel trailed his eyes over the clothed form of his mate, smiling. “In the beginning, there was one world, one sky, one heart. . .”

-------------------
[1] {http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lkReR89J-gk} “Lady Stardust”, sung by ‘David Bowie’. That’s right, David Bowie, the guy everyone likens Demyx too. You may now all shoot me. XD Lyrics were from {http://www.sing365.com/music/lyric.nsf/Lady-Stardust-lyrics-David-Bowie/4CE13886A78B73CF482568A2001433B2}

[2] Ee-Med. Or Ye-Med . . . . . I seem to have started with the one, and slowly shifted to the other.

[3] Lee, or rhymes with Tea and Sea.

[4] This is a modification of the prologue/set up of Volume 1 of the KH manga. Not sure if it’s in the game, how all the worlds used to be one, but then peoples’ hearts started to turn away from each other, and the light scattered into different worlds. . . . . Oh right, Kairi’s Grandma told her that story in game 1 too. XD

[5] Bah, I’m screwing with mythology for artistic/creative/plot purposes. It looks like Odin was the God of Berserkers, but I need to use Fenrir/Fenris to make the point clear. Also, at least as far as popular culture is concerned, I don’t think I’m the first to fudge the rules this way. o.O;; Yay ‘historically accurate’ movies.

[6] I could say Indian Style, but they didn’t put Pocahontas into the games. XD

[7] ‘Light Eagle’ {http://www.babynology.com/meaning-amora-f47.html}

[8] Your grammar, it hurts me. /cry

[9] Means partner, but we all knew that already. XD Yay canon.

[10] Not sure if I need this but, modified from Jones Jesus’ “Right Here, Right Now”

[11] I read this story once where Roxas chose to listen to Axel instead of DiZ. They had a room together, and using either of their panels led to their one room. I’ve modified that, and thrown some random logic into the mix. Because it would make sense for the world to be ever shifting/changing, but unable to grow as much as a living world could. Add in that Castle Oblivion would have to be based on the same principals of TCTNW for maximum comfort and familiarity, and you get my random idea. Do you guys like it?

AN: [[Removed to comply with new AFF guidelines. Please see the MM.org version for full A/Ns: http://www.mediaminer.org/fanfic/view_st.php/156268]]
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