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Q-uiet in the labs was the one rule Ienzo still chafed under now,just as much as he had when he was a child and assisting Even and Ansem had been little more than a game he was indulged in. He understood the underlying principle of minimized distractions to aid focus, but he had his own counter-arguments about music stimulating brain activity and conversation enhancing the flow of ideas. He was typically overruled. Zexion hadn't needed to worry about such things. He could make anyone who objected see and hear whatever they wanted, and then go about conducting himself however he saw fit, which typically included the presence of an extra assistant for any project he was assigned on, one that provided sitar music, a constant stream of questions, and kisses upon demand. The recompleted Ienzo missed the constant noise. It took Even suggesting headphones and music from his phone to make Ienzo admit that wasn't all he missed. (Zemyx)
U-nderstanding was something neither of them had expected or even thought to ask for, each buying into the negative propaganda that they were freaks of nature that shouldn't exist long after others who had similar claims made about them had moved beyond them. Even being told they deserved a place in the world, and more, that they deserved love and friendship, or, moreover, already had it, devotion spilled like gold from an overturned pirate's chest as an offering at their feet; it wasn't enough to counterbalance the doubt long seeped under their skin and woven around their bones like muscle. Nothing truly stuck for long, until they saw themselves through one another's eyes. It was easy to believe you were a freak of nature yourself, but impossible to act like an angel made flesh was a witch or a faulty puppet who fooled the gullible, and if your angel asked only one thing of you, not your life nor the moon (both of which you offered her) but to treat yourself with the same kindness you showed her, then how could you refuse? (Namixi)
I-diot was what she called him, yet he was supposed to know that for him the playground taunt was meant differently. Pull my pigtails in return. Hard as you can. I like a little pain. She was surrounded by idiots, but he wasn't one (Marluxia wasn't either, but he was her brother of more than one lifetime), so it was doubly infuriating when he couldn't figure out the simplest things. They flirted. Aside from insults, she hardly knew another way to communicate, and, to him, trying to charm those around him came as naturally as breathing. It was hard to attribute meaning to it. Less or Full? Larxene would have died (and did die) before asking if it mattered. She created her own sparks in little jolts every time they touched, less school girl and more sadist, and she knew he liked it, but he still didn't ask for her to up the voltage in any way. Maybe she was the idiot. (Larxel)
N-o force in the universe could separate them again. That was the promise they made under stars, lying in sand still warm from the summer sun. A vow traced in invisible letters in Sora's side and bitten into his collarbone. A pledge sighed as warm breath against Riku's neck and scratched into his back. It had been made many times before in many ways, both verbal and unvoiced, but history kept repeating. Even after the stubborn was broken and agreed not to run, the noble would sacrifice. Realm of darkness. Reaper's Game. Foretellers. Time Paradoxes. Again and again. Year after year. They rescued each other, and they never let go, but a happy ending they could not get, nor even a happy middle, a life together. Still, the oaths came. Together this time. They always meant it. Sometimes they even kept to it longer than others, but it always ended the same. The stars above them seemed to cross one another's paths in Sora's blurry vision as he threw his head back and gasped the words, "I swear to you..." This time it had to be different. (Soriku)
O-nly one claim about their relationship was able to upset Ventus, and it wasn't the absurd but unfortunately frequent claim that Hayner was only interested in him because he looked like Roxas. It was the idea that Hayner was in some way taking advantage of him. For one thing, though Hayner was the first guy Ventus had dated, he had lived through more than one keyblade war, having his soul ripped in half, and countless other things that he would hazard counted as life experience on a level few people had amassed, and technically he was older than Merlin. For another, Ventus felt he only had to direct attention to the texts they had each sent Roxas after their first date. Hayner had waxed poetic about how Ventus was the kindest, sweetest, most honestly good person he'd ever met, and how he now believed that tall tale Roxas had told him about Ventus being pure light. He'd gone on to say he would beat anyone who looked at him wrong with a struggle bat, and closed communication admitting to daydreams of holding his hand at sunset which probably made every comment Seifer had made about him being lame come true all at once (Roxas had confirmed this). Ventus had sent a single message: I'm going to ride that man like he's a rumble racer and I'm going for the Million Dreams Award. Ventus thought his words were just as poetic. Coincidentally, the next date, both of their dreams came true. (Haynus)
A-fter everything they had been through, the greatest adventure they could think of was a two-story apartment set on a hill in Twilight Town. It had to be two-story, for there had to be stairs to slide down like they were oversized toddlers even though Axel laying down was already halfway to the ground floor, and there had to be a landing to drop water balloons off of to crash down on unsuspecting guests who were told just to "Come in. The door is open!" when they rang the bell. Roxas maintained that all he wanted was a normal life. Sure, he’d step in and play hero, kick some ass if it was needed, but he’d had enough of being a weapon. Getting his high school equivalency and enrolling at a college in Twilight Town was exciting. Everyone, save maybe Xion, was stunned at how quickly he took to academia, and their skepticism, even (or perhaps especially ) where it had only been inspired by knowing far too well that Sora's intelligence and talents were of a very different type than the typical scholar, fed him on the fuel of spite to excel even in classes that didn't tug his interest. Axel, who had always wanted more- higher, greater, better--than what he had when he had been Lea the first time, now said he had everything he wanted, calling himself a house husband before either he or Roxas had agreed to the term "boyfriend," and perfecting his recipe for eggplant moussaka while writing his salacious memoirs War Dust and Wine Stains. They couldn't be called boring, nor did making fun of them for growing up or settling down feel quite natural when you were covered in paint because water balloons were ruled too predictable and Roxas's degree took an extra year because he took a semester off so he and Axel could travel to all the worlds they didn't get to experience properly when they had been in the Organization and pick up the most unique souvenir they could from each--which included trying to abduct King Simba's daughter at her request with no mind to world order. They dodged every description, even ones they floated themselves until they heard it from others, except happy, but nobody could argue they weren't that. (Akuroku)