Puppet Master
“I hate this,” grumbled Roxas as he stepped in animal droppings again for what seemed like the fiftieth time that day. “It stinks, I can’t breathe in this outfit, and everyone sounds like Marluxia after he’s had too much to drink.”
“Aww, come on, liven up a little,” Axel grinned, flashing his infectious smirk at the short blonde. Roxas merely scowled back.
“Maybe you want to have fun here, but personally I just want to get back to the castle and out of these damn clothes!” Roxas groused, digging his foot out of another cow (or perhaps it was a bull) pat number fifty-one.
Perhaps the story should rewind a little so as to not confuse any readers as to the story so far. Axel and Roxas are currently on assignment from the Superior, scouting out new worlds for Organization XIII, as the last world, unfortunately, not only was entirely water, but its residents were entirely comprised of merpeople that would try and make the Heartless sing with them. (A futile goal, since the Heartless cannot sing, and even if they did, would have been too busy drowning to bother.) Paris, as this new world was called, was small, but with many people and a constant festival atmosphere, though, as Roxas was well aware, also blessed with an overabundance of livestock for sale. The pair were nonchalantly (or at least trying to be nonchalant) walking through the Mediaeval Marketplace, dressed plainly in the local garb.
Here’s where the problems started.
Axel was attired in a loosely fitting black peasant shirt with matching pants and boots, cutting a nice figure in the multicolored crowd. Roxas, on the other hand . . . well . . . Vexen, for some odd reason, had decided that instead of dressing the pair as friends gone out to see the sights of the market, dressing them as a couple gone out to see the sights of the market would be much less conspicuous.
Which is why Roxas was wearing a dress.
“The clothes look good on you!” Axel insisted, giving a little leer. “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen anyone else pull off a corset as well as you have.”
Roxas colored slightly and became very engrossed in working his boot out of cowpat number fifty-two. Axel wasn’t just trying to butter up the blonde though. Roxas looked absolutely stunning with his hair somehow lying straight down (courtesy of Marluxia and his veritable arsenal of hair care products) in a white peasant shirt, long black skirt, black boots, and, the main reason why Roxas was angry, a black leather corset that squeezed his body into a vaguely feminine shape, albeit a rather flat-chested one.
“Whatever,” Roxas grumbled, carefully sidestepping what would have been number fifty-three. “Let’s just finish this damn mission.”
The missions were deceptively simple. One, is the planet suitable for Heartless? The answer, usually, was yes, Atlantica being the only exception. Two, will Organization members look suitably impressive stalking about the main square? Here, the answer was also yes, though Roxas wanted to also mention that there was no way any of them would look strikingly imposing enough to overcome the obvious brown droppings on black boots. Three, (although this wasn’t a question so much as a command) bring Xemnas back something interesting from the world. (There was also a number four addendum made by Demyx to bring him back something edible, although this wasn’t a command so much a prolonged whine.)
Roxas scanned their surroundings quickly, looking for anything the Superior might find vaguely entertaining. “It’s no use,” he muttered. “I don’t see anything interesting.”
Axel sighed. “Yeah, it’s nothing we didn’t see at Beast’s Castle. Just a bunch of trinkets and jewelry.”
“Herbs and flowers! Good for what ails ya!” a merchant hawked.
“Buy me new cloaks! Going cheap, sellin’ quick!”
“Getcher talismans an’ amulets here!”
“Milord, I beg you to try this new ointment, guaranteed to please your lady there!” At this one, Roxas shot a ‘You-will-lose-valuable-body-parts-if-you-continue-that-speech’ look at the vendor, who promptly shut up.
“Beef! Mutton! Beer!”
“Jewelry for the pretty lady!” This one also shut up fairly quickly.
“Arrrrrrrrrrcheeerrrry!!! Come and test your skills!”
“ . . . ing in Paris, the city awakes, to the bells of Notre Dame.” Axel paused for a second. There, by a large well was a flamboyantly dressed gypsy, entertaining a crowd of young children with a hand puppet show, singing a rather catchy song. “The fisherman fishes, the bakerman bakes, to the bells of Notre Dame. To the big bells as loud as the thunder! To the small bells . . .”
The pair stood for a moment, listening to the tune. “Hmmm . . .” a grin spread across Axel’s face, and he was gratified to find Roxas with a similar looking smirk.
--------
“That was easy,” Roxas remarked about half an hour later, safely carrying the package for Xemnas in a brown satchel slung across his shoulder along with half a dozen loaves of long French bread (Demyx’s promised food). “Come on, let’s get back to the Castle before I suffocate to death in this dress.”
“I think you look sexy in that outfit,” Axel gave Roxas a tight squeeze. He earned a scowl from the blonde.
“Don’t joke,” Roxas muttered. “This thing is a nightmare. Corsets were obviously invented by men who never had to wear them.”
“But there are so many advantages to wearing a dress,” Axel suggested slyly.
“Like what?”
Roxas wasn’t even given a chance to react as Axel suddenly dragged him down a deserted alley, pressing the younger man against the wall and roughly capturing his lips in a heated kiss. There was a bit of token resistance from Roxas before he gave in and let Axel’s tongue into his mouth, panting a little as their tongues warred.
“Like us being able to go at it in public,” Axel whispered into Roxas’ ear when they finally broke apart the kiss. “Like seeing the way that corset makes your pert little ass look even better than it already does,” he trailed light kisses down Roxas’ collarbone, enjoying the way it made the blonde moan. “Like the way it’s so easy to just lift up those skirts,” he demonstrated, pressing his body even closer. “And make you squirm.”
If Roxas were coherent at this moment, he might have whacked Axel over the head for that remark, but as things stood, all he could do was grab the redhead’s hair and pull him back in for another kiss, trying to meld their two bodies together in his fervor. Axel chuckled slightly, then promptly forgot everything once Roxas had managed to get one of his hands up his shirt. “Hurry up already,” the blonde growled, punctuating the remark with a thrust of his hips.
Axel prepared Roxas as quickly as he could, carefully maneuvering him so that his legs could easily wrap around Axel’s waist. He entered slowly, enjoying the tortured expression the younger man gave as he built up a rhythm. Although it was a cool day, Axel quickly worked up a sweat moving in and out of Roxas’ body as the other made muffled groans and cries in time with his own.
They carried on for quite some time like that, simply moving with whatever rhythm their bodies wanted at the moment, heedless of any other person (though only one very traumatized goat wandered into the alley while they were thus occupied). Finally, Roxas couldn’t take any more and came, shuddering, Axel helping him through the orgasm while he came. The pair dropped to the ground, gathering their strength until at least one of them could stand again.
Axel somehow managed to convince Roxas not to burn the outfit the second they got back.
--------
“Isn’t it a wonderful day here at The Castle that Never Was, Superior?” A high-pitched squeaky voice that sounded vaguely like Vexen asked.
“Indeed, it is,” Xemnas rumbled, pleased at the question. “It’s a beautiful day today.”
“That’s because we love you, beloved Superior!” This time the voice sounded sort of like Larxene with a cold.
“And I love all of you too,” Xemnas smiled (a fearsome sight that once made Zexion faint dead away for the sheer ludicrousness of it). “I love it when you all do your missions and conquer new worlds for the Organization. Especially when you don’t screw up and ruin my master plan for ruling Kingdom Hearts.”
“We won’t fail ever again, master!” Now the voice was possibly Marluxia underwater. “We’ll do the best job ever!”
“Of course you will - ” Xemnas was cut off by Demyx suddenly barging into the room with a loaf of bread.
“Hey, Number One, have you tried this stuff that Axel and Roxas brought back? It’s really delic . . . .” Demyx trailed off as Xemnas tried in vain to stuff the little hand puppets down his shirt. “What’re those?”
“What’re what?” Xemnas asked innocently, until he realized Demyx wasn’t buying it, dense blonde or no. “Oh, these?” he waved the puppets casually in his hand. “Just a little trinket they brought back from Paris. Odd, aren’t they? There’s one of each of us.”
“Really?” Demyx looked curiously at the puppets. “Hey, Superior, can I have one?”
“NO!” Xemnas shouted, and then recovered himself. “Err, I mean, they’re not to be played with.”
“But weren’t you just - ” Demyx protested.
“No. No. No, I wasn’t.” Xemnas insisted. “Most certainly not.”
Demyx looked doubtful, but didn’t say anything. “Oh, that’s right, did you want some of this bread stuff?”
“I suppose I might try it,” Xemnas looked resigned to his fate, and tore a small chunk off the loaf. He nibbled it. “It is quite tasty, I supp - ” He started coughing and hacking as a small lump went down the wrong pipe. Demyx patted him on the back for a bit until the spasms calmed somewhat. “Thank you, Number Nine, I shall have to be more careful of that from now.”
“No problem, Superior,” Demyx skipped off happily with the rest of the bread. Xemnas turned back to his puppets. “Now, where were we, my . . . oh, damn.”
Demyx had stolen the puppets of himself and Zexion.
--------
A/N: Xemnas eating bread was actually inspired by an incident at Colossalcon '07 where
thru_violets defeated the Superior, the Final Boss of Kingdom Hearts with a loaf of French bread she bought for her Kazuma Azuma costume. (In his own defense, Superior Mansex hadn't eaten since the previous day.)
“Aww, come on, liven up a little,” Axel grinned, flashing his infectious smirk at the short blonde. Roxas merely scowled back.
“Maybe you want to have fun here, but personally I just want to get back to the castle and out of these damn clothes!” Roxas groused, digging his foot out of another cow (or perhaps it was a bull) pat number fifty-one.
Perhaps the story should rewind a little so as to not confuse any readers as to the story so far. Axel and Roxas are currently on assignment from the Superior, scouting out new worlds for Organization XIII, as the last world, unfortunately, not only was entirely water, but its residents were entirely comprised of merpeople that would try and make the Heartless sing with them. (A futile goal, since the Heartless cannot sing, and even if they did, would have been too busy drowning to bother.) Paris, as this new world was called, was small, but with many people and a constant festival atmosphere, though, as Roxas was well aware, also blessed with an overabundance of livestock for sale. The pair were nonchalantly (or at least trying to be nonchalant) walking through the Mediaeval Marketplace, dressed plainly in the local garb.
Here’s where the problems started.
Axel was attired in a loosely fitting black peasant shirt with matching pants and boots, cutting a nice figure in the multicolored crowd. Roxas, on the other hand . . . well . . . Vexen, for some odd reason, had decided that instead of dressing the pair as friends gone out to see the sights of the market, dressing them as a couple gone out to see the sights of the market would be much less conspicuous.
Which is why Roxas was wearing a dress.
“The clothes look good on you!” Axel insisted, giving a little leer. “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen anyone else pull off a corset as well as you have.”
Roxas colored slightly and became very engrossed in working his boot out of cowpat number fifty-two. Axel wasn’t just trying to butter up the blonde though. Roxas looked absolutely stunning with his hair somehow lying straight down (courtesy of Marluxia and his veritable arsenal of hair care products) in a white peasant shirt, long black skirt, black boots, and, the main reason why Roxas was angry, a black leather corset that squeezed his body into a vaguely feminine shape, albeit a rather flat-chested one.
“Whatever,” Roxas grumbled, carefully sidestepping what would have been number fifty-three. “Let’s just finish this damn mission.”
The missions were deceptively simple. One, is the planet suitable for Heartless? The answer, usually, was yes, Atlantica being the only exception. Two, will Organization members look suitably impressive stalking about the main square? Here, the answer was also yes, though Roxas wanted to also mention that there was no way any of them would look strikingly imposing enough to overcome the obvious brown droppings on black boots. Three, (although this wasn’t a question so much as a command) bring Xemnas back something interesting from the world. (There was also a number four addendum made by Demyx to bring him back something edible, although this wasn’t a command so much a prolonged whine.)
Roxas scanned their surroundings quickly, looking for anything the Superior might find vaguely entertaining. “It’s no use,” he muttered. “I don’t see anything interesting.”
Axel sighed. “Yeah, it’s nothing we didn’t see at Beast’s Castle. Just a bunch of trinkets and jewelry.”
“Herbs and flowers! Good for what ails ya!” a merchant hawked.
“Buy me new cloaks! Going cheap, sellin’ quick!”
“Getcher talismans an’ amulets here!”
“Milord, I beg you to try this new ointment, guaranteed to please your lady there!” At this one, Roxas shot a ‘You-will-lose-valuable-body-parts-if-you-continue-that-speech’ look at the vendor, who promptly shut up.
“Beef! Mutton! Beer!”
“Jewelry for the pretty lady!” This one also shut up fairly quickly.
“Arrrrrrrrrrcheeerrrry!!! Come and test your skills!”
“ . . . ing in Paris, the city awakes, to the bells of Notre Dame.” Axel paused for a second. There, by a large well was a flamboyantly dressed gypsy, entertaining a crowd of young children with a hand puppet show, singing a rather catchy song. “The fisherman fishes, the bakerman bakes, to the bells of Notre Dame. To the big bells as loud as the thunder! To the small bells . . .”
The pair stood for a moment, listening to the tune. “Hmmm . . .” a grin spread across Axel’s face, and he was gratified to find Roxas with a similar looking smirk.
--------
“That was easy,” Roxas remarked about half an hour later, safely carrying the package for Xemnas in a brown satchel slung across his shoulder along with half a dozen loaves of long French bread (Demyx’s promised food). “Come on, let’s get back to the Castle before I suffocate to death in this dress.”
“I think you look sexy in that outfit,” Axel gave Roxas a tight squeeze. He earned a scowl from the blonde.
“Don’t joke,” Roxas muttered. “This thing is a nightmare. Corsets were obviously invented by men who never had to wear them.”
“But there are so many advantages to wearing a dress,” Axel suggested slyly.
“Like what?”
Roxas wasn’t even given a chance to react as Axel suddenly dragged him down a deserted alley, pressing the younger man against the wall and roughly capturing his lips in a heated kiss. There was a bit of token resistance from Roxas before he gave in and let Axel’s tongue into his mouth, panting a little as their tongues warred.
“Like us being able to go at it in public,” Axel whispered into Roxas’ ear when they finally broke apart the kiss. “Like seeing the way that corset makes your pert little ass look even better than it already does,” he trailed light kisses down Roxas’ collarbone, enjoying the way it made the blonde moan. “Like the way it’s so easy to just lift up those skirts,” he demonstrated, pressing his body even closer. “And make you squirm.”
If Roxas were coherent at this moment, he might have whacked Axel over the head for that remark, but as things stood, all he could do was grab the redhead’s hair and pull him back in for another kiss, trying to meld their two bodies together in his fervor. Axel chuckled slightly, then promptly forgot everything once Roxas had managed to get one of his hands up his shirt. “Hurry up already,” the blonde growled, punctuating the remark with a thrust of his hips.
Axel prepared Roxas as quickly as he could, carefully maneuvering him so that his legs could easily wrap around Axel’s waist. He entered slowly, enjoying the tortured expression the younger man gave as he built up a rhythm. Although it was a cool day, Axel quickly worked up a sweat moving in and out of Roxas’ body as the other made muffled groans and cries in time with his own.
They carried on for quite some time like that, simply moving with whatever rhythm their bodies wanted at the moment, heedless of any other person (though only one very traumatized goat wandered into the alley while they were thus occupied). Finally, Roxas couldn’t take any more and came, shuddering, Axel helping him through the orgasm while he came. The pair dropped to the ground, gathering their strength until at least one of them could stand again.
Axel somehow managed to convince Roxas not to burn the outfit the second they got back.
--------
“Isn’t it a wonderful day here at The Castle that Never Was, Superior?” A high-pitched squeaky voice that sounded vaguely like Vexen asked.
“Indeed, it is,” Xemnas rumbled, pleased at the question. “It’s a beautiful day today.”
“That’s because we love you, beloved Superior!” This time the voice sounded sort of like Larxene with a cold.
“And I love all of you too,” Xemnas smiled (a fearsome sight that once made Zexion faint dead away for the sheer ludicrousness of it). “I love it when you all do your missions and conquer new worlds for the Organization. Especially when you don’t screw up and ruin my master plan for ruling Kingdom Hearts.”
“We won’t fail ever again, master!” Now the voice was possibly Marluxia underwater. “We’ll do the best job ever!”
“Of course you will - ” Xemnas was cut off by Demyx suddenly barging into the room with a loaf of bread.
“Hey, Number One, have you tried this stuff that Axel and Roxas brought back? It’s really delic . . . .” Demyx trailed off as Xemnas tried in vain to stuff the little hand puppets down his shirt. “What’re those?”
“What’re what?” Xemnas asked innocently, until he realized Demyx wasn’t buying it, dense blonde or no. “Oh, these?” he waved the puppets casually in his hand. “Just a little trinket they brought back from Paris. Odd, aren’t they? There’s one of each of us.”
“Really?” Demyx looked curiously at the puppets. “Hey, Superior, can I have one?”
“NO!” Xemnas shouted, and then recovered himself. “Err, I mean, they’re not to be played with.”
“But weren’t you just - ” Demyx protested.
“No. No. No, I wasn’t.” Xemnas insisted. “Most certainly not.”
Demyx looked doubtful, but didn’t say anything. “Oh, that’s right, did you want some of this bread stuff?”
“I suppose I might try it,” Xemnas looked resigned to his fate, and tore a small chunk off the loaf. He nibbled it. “It is quite tasty, I supp - ” He started coughing and hacking as a small lump went down the wrong pipe. Demyx patted him on the back for a bit until the spasms calmed somewhat. “Thank you, Number Nine, I shall have to be more careful of that from now.”
“No problem, Superior,” Demyx skipped off happily with the rest of the bread. Xemnas turned back to his puppets. “Now, where were we, my . . . oh, damn.”
Demyx had stolen the puppets of himself and Zexion.
--------
A/N: Xemnas eating bread was actually inspired by an incident at Colossalcon '07 where
thru_violets defeated the Superior, the Final Boss of Kingdom Hearts with a loaf of French bread she bought for her Kazuma Azuma costume. (In his own defense, Superior Mansex hadn't eaten since the previous day.)