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Disclaimer: /Singing/ How much is that Sora in the window? The one with the waggly…keyblade. Dammit, I swear I’ll get the hang of improvisation one day.
Author’s Notes: Hullo! Firstly, I apologize to everyone on alerts who looked at the e-mail and scowled upon realizing that it wasn’t an SGW update, but this plot bunny hit me a few months ago, and I’ve been dying to write it ever since. And then, a couple of weeks ago, the lovely ShadowAili’s birthday gave me an excuse to. And boy, but I’ve gotta mutter a quick ‘Sorry!’ for it, because when I say it’s crack, I mean that it’s crack. For seriously. But I figure the world needs a few more multi-chaptered Zemyx’s, and this is my contribution. Just…bear with me for a bit, and I hope you enjoy!
Warnings: Crack. The KH crew as Greek gods, and the bastardization of some relationships found therein. Yaoi, het, and Demyx as Persephone (which deserves its own warning, as far as I’m concerned).
Dedication: For ShadowAili. I know you’ve read this one already, but I hope it makes you happy that I’m spreading it beyond lj! And to Happy as Rain, for convincing me to do so!
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Chapter One: In Which Zexion Finds Himself a Bride
In the beginning, Xemnas created the heavens and the earth. And he looked at this and saw that it was good.
This, of course, is an utter lie. Xemnas manhandled the heavens and the earth away from his parents, then sent them all to the Underworld where they would live the rest of their not-lives out in the depths of the black abyss. And he looked at this and saw that it was good.
Of course, he needed someone to manage Hell and ensure that those poor unfortunate souls found therein would never find a way to escape. And so he challenged his brethren to a rigged game of poker, whereupon - following his complete and total ownage of the two other gods in question - he delegated the sea to his eldest brother and the underworld to his youngest, thus guaranteeing himself a comfy-cozy seat as the ruler of heaven.
And Xemnas looked at this, and saw that it was very good.
Zexion, the pitiable youngest brother forced into an eternity of kingship in the depths of dark, dank Hell, did not.
Death, he decided, was the most boring thing this side of ornithology.
Death. Of all things! Zexion, perched upon his large throne, was the ruler of an entire army of dead people. And he looked at this and saw that it was not good.
Oh, he had no problem with being Lord of the Underworld, per se. He had always, after all, been something of a scholar, and there were few things more interesting than debating philosophy with some of the most intelligent mortal minds in history. Than discussing literature with the greatest scholars of the ages. Than piecing together knowledge and sciences from a thousand different cultures, some far beyond those of Greece.
And it wasn’t like the gig was difficult, exactly. No, Charon did most of the work, carting the souls forth - and sometimes back - across the river Styx. And what he couldn’t handle, Zexion assigned to his three judges. Sure, his presence in Hell was required almost 24/7, but that was purely for census purposes.
Yes, Zexion had no problem with being the Lord of the Underworld. It was being nothing else that bothered him.
When one is the god of death, one does not have many friends, and it is quite difficult to entertain oneself when the best company around have been around for the past thousand years. The philosophers and scholars and scientists grew boring after the first few millennia, and it wasn’t like Cloud and the rest made for very good conversation. Judge number 3 was entertaining enough, but he’d been spending too much time with Judge number 1 recently, and Judge number 2...well, everyone knew about Judge number 2 and Zexion‘s poor, harassed boatman.
Not to say that every day was as boring as the last, of course. Every now and then, the three fates would fly by and irritate him, annoying little pests that they were. And he didn’t even want to think of the antics Seifer and Zell got into sometimes. If not for the fact that such a feat were surely impossible, Zexion would have been fully prepared to say that the noise those two made would one day bring Hell crashing around his ears.
And dear Xemnas above, he couldn’t bear to think about that thrice-damned god of war and his monthly attempts to seduce Styx’s boatman away from the - relatively - warm embrace of Judge number 2. Dear God. He’d never seen such property damage.
He’d offered to help Cloud file a restraining order, but the blond boatman had refused. Sometimes Zexion was sure they were all involved in some violent threesome. Either that, or crazy.
The point, however, was that Zexion often felt the weight of loneliness pressing upon him a bit too heavily. Solitude was all very well and good, but this stretched far, far beyond that the quiet privacy he’d once known in the heavens, curled up on a cloud and reading the latest critical works. In the depths of the Underworld, there was no one to really talk to. No one to debate with. Yeah, mortals were interesting for the first few millennia, but they just couldn’t see in the same way a god could. The other denizens of hell were too wrapped up in their duties and each other, and either way, none were the sort who’d prefer words to action. Even those idiotic Gullwings were a blessed relief from the ennui of the Underworld, but they visited so seldomly he sometimes forgot which was which.
Yes, life as the ruler of Hell was a macabre, monotonous one. He wanted something more. And so, he began plotting.
And so he plotted. And he plotted. And he plotted. Day and night, Zexion debated scenario after scenario, discarding one after another. And when no solution was forthcoming, he began to despair.
And then the answer came to him in an epiphany so sudden he nearly fell off his throne with the impact of the revelation. The answer to his quandary…it was all so simple! Yes! How could he have never seen before when the solution was so agonizingly obvious?
Now! He just needed to find a suitable subject…
This is why, at half past three in the morning - or what passed for morning, anyway- he burst into Cloud’s room and took a seat on the other’s bed, ignoring both the two indignant squawks that echoed from underneath the covers and the interesting vibrating noise originating from deep within the sheets.
“Cloud,” he said, folding his hands together and cutting his gaze to the two undefined lumps underneath the black cotton. “I’ve decided that I shall marry.”
Silence answered him. The strange vrr-ing noise slid to an abrupt halt. Then, an eternity later, a rumbled, spiky blond head of hair slowly peeked out from under the comforter, eyes unnaturally wide. His jaw worked soundlessly for a minute before his vocal chords decided to cooperate. “Come again?”
Zexion sighed irritably, rising to his feet and pacing the length of the room. “You heard me,” he muttered darkly. “And you’re well aware that I do not have to justify my decisions. If I choose to do so, it is only because I am in need of an opinion. I desire a companion. I‘d like to request your aid in choosing one.”
Cloud struggled out of bed, smacking his bed partner into full consciousness. He took a deep breath, glanced at his stern king, swayed slightly on his feet, then took a seat on the edge of the bed. “A companion,” he said disbelievingly. “You…want me to help you choose a wife.”
Zexion glared at him for a moment, his shoulders hunching slightly in defense. He lifted a hand to the bridge of his nose, exhaled, and then slumped. “Yes,” he muttered. His sighed, clearly resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “Please. And for God’s sake, put some clothes on.”
Cloud ignored this last order and gaped at him. “A…a wife?” He shook his head slowly, then shoved almost hysterically at the man lying beside him, still half-hidden beneath the sheets. “Psst. Tell me I heard that correctly.”
A tousled brunet head, still slightly flushed from what he and Cloud had obviously been doing to each other not two minutes prior, rose, staring at both blond and god with something approaching horror. “A…wife.”
The slate-haired king thinned his lips slightly. “If you’d please,” he hissed, frowning severely, his eyes narrowed into slits.
Both men shot wary looks at each other, but nodded tentatively nonetheless. “Alright,” Cloud murmured slowly. “A wife.” He turned to stare down at the reclining brunet still lying on his bed. “Any…suggestions?”
The older man turned on his stomach and lifted himself onto his elbows. He inhaled, frowning. “Wait. You two do realize we’re talking about a person here,” he said, frowning. “Not a piece of cattle. You can’t just make a list of every available woman in existence and choose which one is most worthy of the title 'Queen of the Underworld.'”
“Of course we can, Leon,” Zexion frowned.
Cloud snorted incredulously. “Who in their right mind would say no to him?”
Leon stared at the both of them, jaw working silently for a minute. “You…” He groaned in defeat. “Fine. Kairi.”
Cloud shook his head. “No. She's spoken for.”
A surprised pause. “By who?”
The blond grinned. “Remember Luxord?”
A gasp. “No!”
“If you two are done gossiping like old maids,” Zexion murmured, his voice only slightly stiff. “Could we continue?”
Cloud and Leon glanced at each other for a moment, stifled snorts, then nodded. “Tifa.”
Zexion raised a disbelieving eyebrow, then snorted. “You want me to marry the personification of Chaos. Do you want me dead so badly?”
“She’s not so bad,” Cloud said reflexively. He sighed, then quirked a grin and glanced at his brunet lover. “Larxene?”
Leon and Zexion both burst into simultaneous choking fits, turning to stare at the blond in shock. “Just a joke,” he said, smirking quietly and hiding his grin behind a fall of blond bangs. “Sorry.”
“Don’t,” Zexion half-snarled, reaching up to tug at a lock of slate-colored hair almost anxiously. “God. You almost sent me to my own grave.”
The two others hid smiles, then fell into silence.
It was Cloud who moved first. He opened his mouth, then closed it, brow furrowing. His eyes turned inwards, and his head tilted up in a contemplative expression. “If you want someone to keep,” he murmured slowly, as if weighing his every word. “Marluxia has a child. He’s been keeping the brat away from most of Olympus for years. The birth caused a bit of a scandal, supposedly, but everyone tried to hush it up. I’m not surprised you hadn’t heard; I only know ‘cause Sephiroth mentioned it a few years ago, back in the day when he wasn’t being such a-”
Zexion waved a hand in dismissal, frowning down thoughtfully at the floor. “Marluxia has a daughter?”
Cloud stared blankly at him, then shrugged, tilting his head to the right. “Sure. If that’s what you wanna call it.”
Zexion glanced at him curiously, but dismissed the odd statement. Cloud was almost recklessly loyal; he’d never do anything to endanger him, and his judgment had always been sound. “Alright,” he said finally, nodding to himself. “Tell me more.”
The boatman raised an inquisitive eyebrow, but nodded. “The name’s Demyx. Pretty little blond thing, from what I’ve heard. Sings like a bird and swims like Poseidon’s own child.” The other eyebrow joined its partner, and he took a long, careful glance at his lord. “I…actually think you might like the kid.”
Zexion’s eyebrows lowered at that, but he said nothing. For the longest while he stood there, staring down at his hands, eyes unseeing. Finally, he spoke.
“Alright,” he murmured slowly. “Where can I find her?”
Cloud gnawed his lip, his nose scrunching slightly. “The lake in Enna. Just listen for the sound of singing. Or splashing. Depends on what mood the kid’s in.”
“Right,” Zexion said, nodding once. He closed his eyes for a moment, then began walking towards the entrance.
Both blond and brunet straightened, shooting each other nervous stares. “Sir!” Leon called, rising to his feet. “Surely you don’t mean to kidnap the poor-”
“I am no fool,” Zexion hissed, opening the door and turning to glare over his shoulder at his servants. “Were I to abduct the woman, I’m sure Marluxia would raise an unholy fuss. I’m simply going to inspect her. That’s all.”
The two men reclining on the mattress glanced at each other, then nodded slowly. “Good luck,” Cloud said, lifting a hand goodbye. “And…” Something odd shifted in his face. For a minute, Zexion could have sworn he was fighting a grin. “Well. Have fun.”
The slate-haired man raised an eyebrow, nodded in farewell, and then disappeared.
As soon as they were sure the god was out of ear shot, Cloud and Leon burst out laughing.
“Riku!” the younger boy hissed furiously, clumsily pulling himself up the branches. “Give them back!”
The taller man laughed brightly at him, blowing a kiss over his shoulder even as he continued climbing the thick growth. A bow and quiver of arrows were slung across his back, and they bounced against him with every handhold he managed to grab. “In a minute,” he called, the words delightfully mocking. “I just wanna try them out once.”
“Riku!” the brunet moaned in frustration, leaning against one of the older branches and staring up at his laughing lover. “You don’t know how to use them! We could get in huge trouble!”
“No, we won’t, Sora,” Riku chuckled, glancing down to shoot the brunet a reassuring grin. “C’mon. I just wanna try them out. I’ll just shoot a squirrel, or something. He’ll find his true love and all will be well. The world needs more squirrels.”
The younger male sighed, but took the hand Riku offered him and allowed himself to be pulled up to the branch the other boy was straddling. “You should know better than to play with a god’s toys,” Sora sighed, resting his forehead against the other’s shoulder blades. “If the big man finds out, I’m blaming it on you.”
“No, you won’t,” Riku smiled, twisting around to smile at his partner. “’Cause Old Man Xemnas would kill me. And we don’t want that, do we, Eros?”
“Don’t call me that,” the smaller boy muttered grudgingly. “And shut up.”
Riku grinned down at him and bent quickly, pressing their lips together for a fraction of a second before he turned back around, un-slinging the bow and quiver from his shoulder and dropping them onto his lap. He withdrew a single, gold tipped arrow from the leather jacket and set it against the bow, drawing the string back taut.
“Just a squirrel?” Sora said nervously, leaning forward to rest his head on the other’s shoulder. The white-haired man’s lips quirked, and he nodded.
“Sure. Just a squirrel. And look: I think I see movement right…”
A large patch of foliage not fifty feet away quivered. Leaves and branches quivered ominously, as if some animal was making its way through the dense undergrowth.
“…there.”
Riku smirked, and let the arrow fly.
“I’m going to kill him one of these days,” he muttered irritably, waving a large bumblebee away. “You just watch. Bastard’ll get what’s coming to him.”
He flinched suddenly as a sharp pain swept through his chest, clenching the muscle found therein painfully. He glanced downward, eyes narrowing. Fucking bumblebees. Oh, Marluxia was gonna hear about this.
Gritting his teeth, he flung one last tree branch away from his unholy person and burst through the foliage.
“Psyche, my love,” Sora said, his voice soft and silky in the quiet morning breeze. “Please tell me you did not just shoot the God of the fucking Underworld with one of my arrows.”
Riku gulped. “Uh. Oops?”
Zexion, being Zexion, noticed none of this. No, his eyes were sweeping the clearing. He could hear no singing, but…
His eyes darted across the surface of the water, zeroing in on every disturbance. He couldn’t see anything but how long could a single woman, goddess or no, stay underwater? If she was down there, she’d be surfacing soon. He sighed, leaned back against the tree, and waited.
And waited.
And waited.
A good hour later, Zexion finally admitted to himself that perhaps the woman wasn’t down there, and that he’d probably been waiting around for nothing. He sighed to himself, reaching up to palm his forehead lightly in an effort to dispel the migraine building there. He supposed he could wait. See if she showed up. If worst came to worst, he’d just demand an interview with Marluxia. He had seniority, dammit. If he wanted to meet the girl, he would.
And then Zexion noticed the bubbles trailing across the surface of the otherwise-still water. He frowned and took a step backward, obscuring himself in the shadows of the trees. She was down there, he realized suddenly, and he smiled curiously at the thought. Inconceivable. She’d been submerged for over an hour, unless there existed some underwater grotto filled with air. Swam like a child of Poseidon, indeed.
The grin on his face quirked peculiarly, and a soft sort of stab pinched at his chest. Imagine. He was going to meet her.
The surface broke. From the lake, a woman emerged.
Shoulder-length dark-blond hair clung wetly to her neck and shoulders, curving along the white column. Droplets of water gleamed in the bright morning sun and poured down her slim back, forming trails that fell between shoulder blades, down the long arch of her back, to be lost forever in the gentle curve of the bottom covered just barely by the soft tides of shallow water.
She leaned over, swinging her hair over a strong shoulder and taking it between two delicate hands, wringing the water from it and combing it through with slim fingers. Harpists fingers.
In that moment, Zexion decided that he would have no one else. No. Marluxia’s daughter would be his, this instant. And for all eternity.
He took a step backward, back into the foliage, the dark shade of it obscuring his face. The female was already making her way towards the bank, treading through the gentle flow, but he turned his face away. It would not be proper to catch a glimpse of her total nakedness. Well. Not until they were married, at least. So…tonight.
He nodded to himself and bowed his head. It was time.
He lifted a hand to the sky and snapped his fingers, just once. Immediately, a black carriage materialized from what seemed to be the shadows, diamonds and bones woven together to form some half-substantial tapestry of horrors. A team of dark, fire-eyed horses reared and pawed at the air, manes of hair tossed back in soundless whinnies. He nodded at one, then made some strange, arching motion with his left hand. Immediately it disengaged itself from the others and walked forward, stretching his neck outward to nuzzle Zexion’s open hand.
“In and out,” he muttered furtively, glancing over his shoulder to catch small glimpses of the blond through the trees. “Quickly. I don’t want to give her a chance to escape.”
The large horse quirked its head at him curiously, but Zexion had already turned around, rummaging within the depths of the carriage. “Please tell me I have a bag big enough to fit a person in here.”
A high-pitched snort followed the words, and Zexion rolled his eyes, never once ceasing his hunt through the contents of the carriage. “What? You expect me to carry her kicking and screaming all the way back home? Hell no. I’m tying her up in a rucksack and carting her back in the trunk.”
If his unearthly team of stallions had anything to say about this he never noticed, because at that moment he managed to procure a woven sack, large enough to fit a wild boar, more than large enough to hold his soon-to-be-queen. He smiled amusedly to himself and slung the bag over his shoulder, then turned to face his horse.
“In and out,” he repeated quietly. “Kneel.”
The large black stallion threw him a look that almost looked irritated, but dropped to its knees anyway. Zexion slung one leg over the great animal’s back, steadied himself, and then tapped the horse once on its neck. It rose slowly to its feet, pawing at the ground impatiently.
The slate-haired god of death sighed, maneuvering the large animal around until it faced roughly in the direction of the clearing. He could see the beautiful goddess adjusting her robe one-handed, the other trying to wring water from dark blond locks of hair. His lips quirked upward.
“Cut her off,” he murmured into the horse’s ear. “I don’t want her diving back into the water.” He waited for the unearthly black horse to toss its head in understanding, and then dug his heels into the animal’s flanks. And just like that, they burst through the foliage.
On the lakeside, the blond rose to her feet, turning to face the noise of thundering hooves approaching. She tilted her head curiously, and Zexion could see the emotions sweeping through her face - surprise, confusion, fear, and…
Dude. She looked pissed.
Her lips moved in what must have been a prayer - because Zexion refused to believe that he’d read her lips correctly; no goddess as ethereal as this one would ever say something as crass as ‘Aw, fuck,’ - and she took off in a sprint towards the waters.
Zexion’s eyes narrowed. Ten feet separated her from the lake. Twenty feet separated him from her. He narrowed his eyes, calculated the exact speed and trajectory needed to intercept her, muttered a curse, threw himself into a squat atop his horse, and then flung himself from the animal and directly into the blond goddess, not one foot away from the water.
They immediately began rolling and hissing in what was surely the most undignified position Zexion had ever found himself in. He was a scholar, dammit. Random brawls were Sephiroth’s job.
Now, Zexion had never before been in a physical confrontation of any kind. Therefore, you can’t really blame him if he accidentally forgot his own divine strength and clunked the girl a teensy-bit too hard upside her pretty blond head.
She fell like a sack of potatoes, face digging itself into the soft, sandy banks of the large body of water. Zexion winced, pulling himself awkwardly to his feet. Well. That had been perfectly uncouth. He’d just assaulted his future wife.
He brushed himself off, face turned downwards, eyes glaring inwards. What had he been thinking? He’d leapt from his horse! He’d engaged himself in a dogfight with his future queen! What in hell’s name had been going through his mind?! He sighed, reaching down to grab the rucksack from where it had fallen to the ground in his impromptu flight from his horse’s back.
He wasn’t sure. All he’d known at the time was the cruel, definite certainty that she must not be allowed to disappear into the waters. He’d realized this, and had acted upon it.
Beside him, his large black horse nudged his shoulder with its great long nose. Zexion turned to glance at it, then hmm-ed in reassurance. “She’s okay,” he murmured quietly. “Just a bit stunned.” He bent over and began tucking her away gently inside the sack. He sighed again, darting his eyes across her face. If only it was daylight. He could barely make out the features of her face, now that the moon no longer illuminated her. He grit his teeth and averted his gaze. He almost wanted to go against his reason and leave her unbound.
His lips thinned, and he finished tugging her into the large sack. He tightened it, then slung it awkwardly over one shoulder. God. How much could one woman weigh?
Slowly, he made his way back to the carriage, his horse trotting faithfully beside him. He lifted her and placed her gently within the large, macabre coach, then moved to tie the horse beside its fellows. He groaned slightly, letting his head rest against the animal’s neck in a single moment of weariness. The large steed canted its head towards its master, offering wordless comfort.
“Don’t worry,” he muttered absentmindedly - whether to his horses or to himself, he wasn’t quite sure. “It shall be okay. And we probably don’t have to worry about her kicking up a fuss along the ride back. Goddess or no goddess, I did…cuff…her rather roughly. She’ll most likely remain unconscious until we reach the Underworld.”
Oh, Zexion. If only you could be so lucky.
Footsteps echoed through the dark stone walls of the Underworld, and Zexion turned towards the sound. Cloud and Leon were running up, waving in greeting, shouting welcomes and questions into the still air. Zexion nodded at them, grabbed the screaming, thrashing sack, and dropped it none-too-gently onto the ground.
The two men tripped in shock, and fell to the ground in a flailing heap.
“Oh,” Leon said, once he’d managed to disentangle himself from the pile of limbs. His eyes were very wide. He lifted a shaking finger to the writhing bag, his mouth working like a fish out of water.
“You didn’t,” Cloud gaped, unsteadily standing. He walked forward as if in shock. “Dude. You didn’t.”
“You kidnapped Marluxia’s child,” Leon muttered in awe. “As in, Demeter’s. The god of the fucking earth. And…” He lifted a hand, pointing at the shrieking rucksack. “And that’s his child.”
“Silence,” Zexion mumbled, voice uncharacteristically abashed. “She suited my purposes. I saw no reason to wait.”
Cloud choked. “No…no reason…!” He made a harsh waving motion with his hand, cutting them through the air angrily. “Hello! You pretty much proclaimed war on the fucking earth! You stole Marluxia’s child! And dammit, have you even considered the other parent?! Larxene’s gonna have your balls for earbobs!”
Zexion stilled. “It’s…Larxene’s the mother?”
“How many females have you seen Marluxia hang out with over the past thousand years?! Fuck! You thought it’s mom was a human?!”
The slate-haired god gulped curiously. “You said there was a scandal surrounding the birth. I’d…assumed you meant that Marluxia went and knocked up a human female.”
Cloud narrowed his eyes until they were slits, and he shook his head slowly. Zexion flinched, then cut his gaze to the roaring, thrashing bag.
“What’s done is done,” he murmured quietly. “And it cannot be undone. Once she crossed the river Styx, she lost all ability to go topside. She must marry me. If...if this causes a fuss, I’ll speak with her parents.”
The blond boatman chuckled, a little hysterically. “Her parents,” he laughed, the words trembling. “Right. Oh God.”
The Underworld’s god furrowed his brow. “Excuse me?” he asked, his voice just slightly taut. Something was off about this whole situation, and he was only just now realizing exactly how much. “What do you mean?”
Cloud’s mouth worked uselessly, and he finally turned towards his brunet lover for help. Leon looked strangely pale, but he managed a shrug. “Just open it,” he said slowly. “See for yourself.”
Zexion glanced them over for a moment, then nodded. He walked forward to the struggling rucksack, loosened the rope holding it closed, and then took a step back.
The bag was still for the barest fraction of a second, and then a damp, robed, very angry body began crawling its way through the opening, cursing and swearing so fiercely Zexion winced. He stepped forward a pace, offering a hand to help the woman up, but it was batted away furiously, and green eyes shot up to shoot ocular fire at him.
“Who are you?!” the woman shouted, shadows obscuring whatever was not covered by sopping-wet bangs. “What the fuck do you want with me?!”
Zexion’s lips tightened. He closed his eyes, opened his mouth to speak, and completely missed the fist that came soaring his way a half-second later.
His eyes flew open in shocked pain, but the woman had already grabbed a hold of his robe and used it to slam him against the stone wall. “Where am I?!” she roared furiously. “What have you done?!”
Both Cloud and Leon took surprised steps forward, but Zexion waved them away, his eyes never once leaving the half-veiled ones of his queen-to-be. Interesting. He wasn’t sure whether he was irritated at this new development or intrigued. The woman had a spine.
“Isn’t it obvious?” he answered calmly, the bruise on his face already healing. “You’re in the presence of the god of the Underworld.”
The woman snorted, tightening her baggy robes around her shoulders. “Shut up,” she snarled. “What I want to know is why the fuck you brought me here, and when the hell you’re going to take me back!”
Zexion’s eyes narrowed. He’d decided. Fuck intrigued; he was irritated.
“I won’t be taking you back,” he said, voice every bit as quiet as it was firm. “You’re staying here. I intend to make you my bride.”
The woman burst into a coughing fit, every muscle in her body visibly tensing. “Excuse me?” she half-gasped, retreating a half-pace. “W-would you mind repeating that?”
Zexion smiled thinly, taking a step forward and placing a hand on the young woman’s shoulder. Her face was still half-hidden, still obscured by damp bangs and shadows and the gloom inherent in the Underworld, but she looked every bit as beautiful as she had in the lake. More so; the dark, gloomy shadows framed her face quite nicely. Threw everything into obscurity.
“You’re to be my bride,” he said softly, leaning forward slightly. “I know this is difficult, but do try to understand. I need a wife, and I’d never lower myself and begin cavorting with mortals. That, unfortunately, disqualifies the majority of the female populace, so you’ll understand if I have a limited pool to choose from. You should be proud,” he sighs, crossing his hands over his chest and taking a step backward. “It’s not every woman who manages to secure the god of death as a husband. In fact, there‘s only you.”
The woman’s hands balled, and every muscle in her body started quivering. Zexion flinched slightly. Oh Xemnas. The female was going to start crying, wasn’t she? He opened his mouth to attempt to appease her, but - slowly, slowly oh so slowly - the woman lifted her head. Beneath the curtain of heavy dark-blond bangs, green eyes flashed. She took a deep breath, then began.
“That’s all well and good,” she said, and her voice was every bit as mocking as it was positively irate. Zexion’s eyes narrowed curiously. Wait. Now that she was no longer shrieking, her voice sounded…odd. A bit…low.
And then the blond goddess swept her long bangs out of her face, and Zexion froze. Oh. Oh. Huh.
“Yeah,” Demyx said, straightening proudly and tossing wet locks of hair over a broad shoulder. “Yeah, that’s all very well and good, jackass.” A furious glare, and then Demyx elevated a slim hand and flipped Zexion - immortal ruler of all the Underworld - the bird.
“But I’m a guy.”
Zexion choked.
Well…fuck.
End Chapter One
Author's End Notes: Er. I’m sorry? But absolute idiocy aside, I do hope you enjoyed! This is a work-in-progress, and - insofar as my outline allows - will probably end up at ten chapters. If any of you are interested in a complete ‘cast,’ (that is to say, which KH member corresponds to which god), you can hop-skip over to my live journal. Under the links tab at the left, you can click on the master list and scroll all the way down until you hit View. A semi-thorough list should be found there. And, well…/bows in apology/ Forgive me for the crack!
And if you got this far and liked it, please remember to leave a review, especially if you have me on favorites or alerts! And please don't fave if you haven't commented; it really is a bit impolite.
Much love, and I hope you enjoyed!
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