#laurienzo

[glitched-lullaby]

What’s this? What is this? I’ve actually drawn something worth posting? It’s more likely than you think.

Since KH3 has consumed my life, have Ienzo daydreaming about pretty boys like I do at work when there’s nothing to do.

[queenofbaws]

November - Demyx and Vexen (thought you'd have a lot of fun with this one XD I ADORE your writing, btw!!)

((AUGH I lost the initial post and had to go back and find it…sorry for the wait! And ty for the kind words!!! Dialogue Prompts as Months of the Year! Send me a month, get a little fic ;P Slight spoilers for KH3!!!))

“We’re lost.”

“No. We’re not.”

“Aaaand…it’s getting dark.”

“We’re fine.”

“Honestly, I don’t…I don’t even know what town this is!”

Vexen had experienced a bit of hardship in his life. He’d fallen from grace, had his research torn away from him, had been stabbed in the back more times than he could count–hell, he’d been murdered twice–but this? This was torture. He pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers and took a steadying breath, running through all the reasons he couldn’t strangle Demyx.

“Can we stop to get something to eat, maybe?”

Oh. Oh, he needed to think up more reasons. His fingers were itching.

When he finally trusted himself enough to speak, Vexen cleared his throat. “Do you know why the two of us were never sent out on missions together, Numbe–Demyx?”

He turned around, scrunching his face up in thought as he considered the question. Demyx tapped at his chin with a finger, pursing his lips and wiggling them around. “Uhhh…I mean, honestly? Probably because you’re all like…stick-in-the-muddy, and I’m a pretty fun, laid-back guy, so…” He met Vexen’s eyes and gasped in revelation. “Oh! Oh! Oh man, you so want to kill me right now, huh?”

“The thought had occurred to me.”

“Aw dang. I’m pretty good at that, though, to be fair. Xaldin used to say–”

Vexen held up a hand to stop him, and was horrified to find it had no effect. He rolled his eyes as Demyx kept babbling, reaching up and kneading at his temples with his hands. All the times he’d complained about being stuck with Zexion and Lexaeus…he made a silent promise to himself that if–when–they were successful in his plan, he’d never so much as pull a face when dealing with either of them. “Demyx,” he said again, after what felt like far too much time. “Demyx, I am going to need you…to stop doing that.”

“Hmm? Stop doing what?”

“Talking. I’m going to need you to stop talking.”

He grinned widely, putting nearly all of his teeth on display. “Oh man, Vexen…if you wanted quiet, did you ever pick the wrong guy for this job.”

[queenofbaws]

#66 for Ienzo and Aeleus, after they become somebodies again, if you want 😭♥️ thank you!

((Drabble Challenge! Send me a line from this list and I’ll write a lil’ something with it! :P))

When he’d first awoken, face mashed inelegantly against the slick floor of the laboratory, he’d allowed himself to believe that it had all been some terrible dream. Oblivion was a state of mind, not a tangible place; the only ones among their ranks who wore long, billowing coats were the researchers, and even then, they were always crisp and white, never black; certainly none of the Apprentices had died in the basements, chests crackling with the agony of emptiness. He’d simply fallen, hit his head, and lost consciousness long enough to have the nightmare of nightmares. Nothing more, nothing less.

But as his strength returned to him and he was able to prop himself up, he caught sight of the bodies strewn across the room and knew he was wrong.

Someone was standing, maybe even muttering to themselves. Though his thoughts were a syrupy slow tangle of vague ideas and shapes, he knew immediately that the speaker was VIII or Axel or Lea - a threat regardless of name or uniform. Still, it wasn’t the traitor who caught his attention. No…no, what caught his attention was the prone figure in the middle of the room, skin pale enough that it nearly matched the rumpled fabric of his lab coat.

Ienzo.

He didn’t even realize his mind had switched the names until he was halfway across the lab, muscles atrophying strands of jelly that shook and shuddered with each step; he willed himself not to fall, willed himself not to stumble. Only once he reached Ienzo did he kneel, the tendons of his legs screaming from misuse and the lingering aches of what he could only assume had been a second death and a second rebirth.

There was no sign of life from Ienzo - not at first. He laid a hand flat on his back, feeling the ridges of his shoulder blades lift and fall with tired, tentative breaths. Good. That was good. His eyes were caught then by the color of his own gloves, leaving him to stare dumbly at the outline of his fingers atop Ienzo’s back. It had been so, so long since his gloves had been white.

A sudden shudder brought him back to himself as Ienzo sucked in a breath and coughed it out, his lungs sounding dry. He grew still under his hand again, his profile affording him a glimpse of one eye slowly opening. At first it was difficult to tell through the shadow of the Apprentice’s hair, but Ienzo cracked his eye, looked tiredly about, and shut it again. There was a moment of deflation, of worry, as he watched Ienzo seemingly drift away again…and then with a wheezing gasp of air, Ienzo sat up suddenly enough to send whorls of dust spinning through the air around them. His head snapped from side to side, eyes wide under his mussed hair. Patting himself up and down, he froze when his fingers brushed the puffed fabric of his ascot, a concerned crease appearing between his brows as he tried to piece it all together.

“Ienzo,” he spoke softly, more from necessity than caution, his throat raw and rasped by time. “Breathe - breathe.”

He obliged, but warily, eyes still wide and watching, pale blue chips of ice in the darkness of the lab. It was only slowly that he seemed to come back to himself, the ragged rise and fall of his chest evening out to something calmer. “Aeleus?” he managed after a time, voice twisted with distraught disbelief.

A rush of something - relief? - washed over him then, the world around them becoming more saturated, more real. “I was worried you wouldn’t remember…the head trauma, the–”

“Not remember?” Ienzo coughed another wracking cough, pressing his knuckles tight to his lips. “Don’t be a fool. How could I ever forget about you?” He looked around the room again, eyes falling on Lea for a long time before he managed to wrench them away. “Are we…where are we? This isn’t…this isn’t Oblivion.”

“No,” he agreed, offering his hand to help steady him. “We’re home.”

“Home?” Ienzo cast his gaze down to the gloved hand before him, face still pale, still worried, still unsure. “Home,” he said again, as if trying to decide whether he liked the sound of it. “Is that where we are?”

[queenofbaws]

🎀

Aw dang, my fav story right now…I mean don’t get me wrong, I love my KH stuff to the moon and back, but at this moment, my baby is my Until Dawn fic, The (Almost)s.

I came to the fandom late (per the usual), but as with most things horror…I was in love immediately. The (Almost)s is already my longest multi-chap fic, and I’m having way too much fun with it. It’s a character study/backstory/slice-of-life meant to fill in that big ol’ gap between the game’s prologue and the actual game’s events, focusing on four of the eight protags. It’s a mix of comedy, horror, and angst (just like the game itself), meaning I get to make REALLY HORRIBLE JOKES and then follow it up with some good old fashioned body horror. A+++ experience.

I’d been planning it pretty much since I finished my very first playthru a year ago, and now I’m uhhhhhh six chapters in. Six long, long chapters. Still got a ways to go ;) But it’s absolutely my #1 focus right now, and it’s the project I’m pouring most of my guts into. Just love those kids. Love em so much.

Ask me stuff for the Writer Ask Game!