Disclaimer: All the characters and ideas canon to Kingdom Heartsbelongs to Disney and Square Enix. I make no money off this. The OCs, however, belong to me, as does whatever plot that shines through.
Warnings: Slash, a tiny bit of swearing and crack (but when isn't something with me?). Could be classified as a sequel to Black Hearts, though you don't have to read that in order to get this. Other than that, all spelling/grammatical errors are my own. If you spot any, mention them and I will fix them.
Nobody Souffle
Hey there! Welcome to Cooking for the Less Than Gifted, this universe's favourite TV cooking show! Today I'll be teaching you how to make a chocolate souffle. I've only ever made one that's actually worked, but we'll cross our fingers!
The ingredients we'll need today are – hey, uh, yeah, point the camera down here, please – perfect! The ingredients we'll need today are about four and half tablespoons of caster sugar, 60 grams of butter, two table spoons of plain flour, about two-thirds of a cup of milk - uh, make sure it's good before you use it. I remember once when I didn't check and Ze– wait! Please come back! I'll get back to work! Uh, where was I? Oh, right! We'll need 210 grams of chopped up dark chocolate (the good stuff!), about three eggs, half a cup of thin cream, two table spoons of brown sugar and a touch of vanilla essence.
Oh, and of course, more butter and icing sugar – they're not actually needed in the actual cake though. We'll be using the icing sugar to decorate the finished souffle, and the butter to grease the tray.
Don't worry if you didn't catch all that; the recipe's on the web. It should be shown at the bottom of the screen, right about now. But just in case, it's: w, w, w, dot, diabolical daisies, dot, com. Got that? Awesome.
Alright, so, let's start! Step One: grease the tray you're going to use and preheat the oven.
...
"So, you see, Superior, it'd be completely in your favour to let us celebrate Valentines Day! I mean, you think we don't have hearts, right? But we have to remember what it's like, right? It'd give us hope! My last idea went well. Actually, I think it went awesome! And – uh..."
He cleared his throat, his sea green eyes scanning the office swiftly, as he gathered his scattered thoughts like a child sweeping up spilled marbles rolling across Xemnas' smooth, shiny, white floor. After a moment, he gulped and settled his sights on the Superior again.
Demyx wasn't sure he was getting through to Xemnas. He'd been sitting on the edge of the 'visitor seat' for the past fifteen minutes, words leaving him at a few hundred per minute and his arms waving about as though he were attempting to signal a helicopter whilst sea bound and surrounded by a pack of starved sharks. But the Superior's expression hadn't wavered from its carefully blank 'of course I'm listening to every word you've said. Do you dare claim otherwise?' arrangement. His hands hadn't shifted since Demyx had first sat down either, which was worrisome; whenever the Nocturne saw Xemnas, his hands and fingers seemed to never stop moving. Right then, his fingers were woven tightly together, as he sat his chin on his thumbs and hid his mouth behind the leather encased digits.
Demyx's gaze dropped to his own, now clasped hands as he wrung them and tugged at his gloves. The least Xemnas could do was blink. He was being 50 kinds of freaky. The entire situation seemed surreal – probably because Demyx was presenting his idea alone, and his voice seemed keen to crash into his own ears after bouncing off the walls.
Oh, he hoped Xemnas agreed! It wasn't like it would physically hurt them to do something fun. In fact, it was probably good for them! He wasn't asking his fellow Nobodies to pretend they liked each other and send gaudy, glittery and overly pink cards (no matter how shiny said cards would be if tilted in the light just right), so they could spend some time together again.
Surely Christmas hadn't been that bad? Even Saix seemed to have enjoyed himself. Or at least Demyx was as sure as he could be about Saix. Truth was, the guy was scary looking all the time. But he hadn't scarred Demyx like he'd done Xigbar! That had to mean something...
Still, Xigbar, Axel and Xaldin hadn't much confidence in this idea. Which was probably the reason they'd sent him into the deep by himself. But he'd show them! He'd win Xemnas over and they'd gorge themselves on freshly baked cakes with glee!
Demyx swallowed thickly, and glanced around the room again. He fidgeted, sitting forward a bit more, until he was practically sitting on air.
He flicked his wrists and asked nervously, "So, what do you think?"
For every moment Xemnas didn't speak, Demyx could feel sweat slide down his face and neck, making him feel uncomfortably sticky. He was amazed it wasn't dripping off his chin, or pooling around his feet on the floor and the blindingly white chair. Or was it? His body was starting to feel kind of numb; he wasn't quite sure if the chair was even there any more...
Xemnas shifted. Demyx jumped bodily out of the chair and landed with an embarrassing flail. He grinned sheepishly as The Superior stared, but otherwise ignored him. Idly, he waved a hand at Demyx, palm upturned.
"Valentines Day is the holiday centred around love, correct? The one with a multitude of pink and red hearts?" Demyx nodded, being sure to close his mouth quick-smart as Xemnas continued, "I remember receiving one once. I can't recall who the sender was, but it was exceptionally blinding and had an astounding number of kisses on it."
The Superior leant back in inky black, roly chair, and framed his chin with his pointer finger and thumb. Apparently he was recalling some long lost memory he hadn't realised he had. Demyx amused himself by examining the room with a childish curiosity. As neat and tidy and nice the Superior's office was, it was so Spartan and cold and had too much of Xemnas inside of it to be at all welcoming. Then there was the fact that Xemnas was talking to him as though he really should be listening to him – but Demyx's ears were feeling as though they were stuffed with cotton and he honestly doubted that Xemnas had really attempted to prance about in a flowery boat... Demyx was feeling more twitchy than he had been moments before.
"Braig and Dilan would go to tremendous amounts to please their special others. I do believe Braig was forced to clean his declaration of love off the side of our teacher's home, one year. Aeleus and Even were far more subdued, and I believe Ienzo hadn't received one, though he'd given a few to the younger girls that worked around the castle. I cannot remember much else, however," He leant forward again, "I am still unsure how celebrating this holiday is supposed to be at all beneficial to our cause. Number IX, please state your reasons clearly and concisely; I have work to do."
Demyx smiled crookedly. He'd practised answering this one; "I was hoping it could be a teamwork building exercise. You just said you couldn't remember the details of how you celebrated, right?"
Xemnas nodded.
"Well, on my home world, we used to bake! We'd give whatever we'd made to people special to us – in our case, 'cause you know, the whole 'no hearts' thing - we could just eat whatever we make. And uh, frankly, most of us are pretty bad cooks, so I don't think we'd be game enough to even touch each other's stuff with a toothpick, let alone eat it..."
Demyx cleared his throat, forcing himself back on track, "But the point is: we should make celebrating holidays a regular thing! Christmas was fun, and I have a new respect for Lexaeus because of it; I mean, who knew trees could stand up after all we'd put that one through? And I think everyone else is getting along even slightly better. I even saw Axel helping Vexen clean up the other night!"
Well, that wasn't the whole truth. Lexaeus had been there too, and Axel's sense of self preservation wouldn't let him annoy the much larger man even if he had the temperament of a well tortured, family dog. Especially since Vexen and him seemed fairly close, and that Vexen had been on the verge of turning Axel into an ice block. It also hadn't helped the red-head's case that Xaldin had been rather temperamental as of late and had cut himself on the glass a moment after it'd been shattered...
"So, how about it? If this is a complete failure, I'll stop asking."
Xemnas regarded him coolly, his golden orange eyes hardly straying from Demyx's own. He hummed and turned his eyes towards his bleached desk. Cluttered across it was paperwork, books and writing utensils, decorating it with black and cobalt ink, dusty, faded green leather and stained yellow pages. If Demyx tilted his head and squinted he could almost see a few ink blots on the pure white desk.
The rest of the room dumped that theme; the bookshelves behind Xemnas were a warm brown, the books packed inside them faded with age. To Demyx's right was a big, plush armchair; the kind one could curl up and fall asleep in. It was probably royal red when Xemnas had first purchased it, but now it was a saturated pink. There was a small coffee table beside it. Books were stacked upon themselves there as well, as was a writing pad and uncapped pen.
There was a steel filing cabinet to the left, behind the Superior. It was clean, shiny, only a few weeks old. The wall was stained pink behind it, from where Xigbar had exploded a paint filled water balloon. He'd claimed he'd done it to liven the place up; and Demyx could see why. Other than that, everything in Xemnas' office was a clinically, pristine white. There were an abnormal amount of straight lines and sharp edges. The room looked half decorated, and mismatched because of it, reminding the Nocturne of the patchwork quilts his grandmother used to start but hardly ever finished.
As he drew his attention back to the Superior, Demyx's heel tapped against the floor with a rushed, nervous beat. It had started as a fairly slow tck tck tck, but it was quickly building into a crescendo that was sure to make his leg go bounding off. He forced himself still, sea green eyes falling to his now stone still legs, as though glaring at them would make them stay that way. Demyx had to bite his bottom lip to stop himself from humming a tune and sat of his fingers when his pointer finger started to drum a beat into the chair's arms.
Ions later, Xemnas nodded.
"Alright, IX," He said with the same expression he'd worn that entire morning, his voice showing no excitement over his own decision, "Bring me the recipe you were hoping to use by this evening and I'll make whatever arrangements are necessary."
Demyx couldn't stop himself from beaming, or his supposedly non-existent heart's skip-flop of glee as he bounded out of the chair. He bounced on the balls of his feet like a fidgety pup about to be awarded a treat.
"Of course, Xemnas!"
…
Alright, so the pan's all nice and buttery, and the oven's going strong on 200 degrees Celsius. Now all we have to do is – where did that thing go? Haha, sorry about this, people, I seemed to have misplaced a vital piece of today's show...
Uh, no, not there... Did I put it on top of the microwave? No. I was sure I put it somewhere around here... Uh, well, anyway! I'm sure I can remember what to do without the actual recipe! Now, let's see, we have flour and sugar and stuff... Hm...
Okay, so! Combining all your dry ingredients and melting the dark chocolate is Step Two.
…
Many things had died here. He'd lost count just how many, but that didn't make Demyx feel any better over it. The fact that he'd contributed to the pristine white cemetery's body count didn't help either. In fact, thinking back on it now, Demyx was sure it was the the cause of the very violent bees starting to fill his belly.
Dead things had died here. Things had been boiled to mush. Things were grilled until the charred remains crumbled with the horrified gasps stuttered it when it was discovered. Plastic had melted, cheap glass plates had been smashed and machinery had imploded from misuse. They'd had to buy a new stove twice when Vexen and Xigbar's victims had bubbled over and found itself leaking through the piping and wiring, sticking things together and making it very likely to kill them all the next time it was lit.
The truth was that out of the ten members making up the Organisation, only two knew how to make edible food. The rest - Demyx cringed.
Xemnas didn't cook. He'd made that very clear. He's also threatened to swap jobs with whoever attempted to force him, after going into very fine detail over what exactly his job entailed (Demyx didn't think he could ever handle that much paperwork!). And when one did manage to get the Superior inside the kitchen, slaving over a chopping board, he tended to get distracted. The one time Demyx had witnessed nearly saw a bloody, severed surprise in their salad.
On the other hand, Xigbar paid too much attention to how he cooked dinner: he liked his food char grilled. It didn't matter if he'd been charged with the fate of a pot of vegetable soup; something had to be grilled before it was thrown in and allowed to shed and spread like mouldy, black algae over a pond's surface.
Then there was Vexen, who tended to treat each dish he made as though it was his own, edible science project. This usually meant they'd end up being served something that bubbled on its own, no heat required. Or something that was a very peculiar shade of yellow or brown or murky green. Not many had dared to try any of these concoctions, though Lexaeus was still alive...
Zexion followed the recipe to the tiniest detail, but left no room for variables. It was just too bad if the chicken hadn't cooked right through by the prescribed time, you were to eat it or starve.
Saix... Saix wasn't that bad, now that Demyx thought about it. If he was making a salad, Demyx would compliment it without feeling he was obligated to. But he tended to leave his meat products practically raw. Sure, they were brown on the outside, but the inside was nothing less than a sickeningly healthy pink, like the pink of his favourite bubble soap. And the way the slice would dribble blood - the Nocturne couldn't help but shudder at the thought.
Axel's culinary weakness was his inability to understand – or his inability to tend to everyone else's preferences – that not everyone had taste buds as resilient to heat and spiciness as his. Thus, Demyx found himself panting for relief as he drank his own water clones whenever they were desperate enough to let the Flurry of Flames in the kitchen.
Luxord couldn't cook. Demyx had watched him on multiple occasions, and the blonde would follow the instructions, check and recheck the ingredients' measurements and the seasoning, adjust the temperature when necessary and - despite all his efforts - his dishes would not come out as they were supposed to. They weren't burnt, they weren't under cooked, they weren't terrible looking - they were just disgusting. No one could figure out why (though the Original Six had taken a passionate crack at it when Luxord had first arrived). It was unanimously agreed that they'd leave Luxord be.
Demyx's own cooking adventures were less than pathetic. He enjoyed cooking, and one of his main goals in life was to create something so delicious he'd make even Vexen have trouble pinpointing something to criticise. But he'd be chugging along pleasantly, humming, singing and dancing about the kitchen as he stirred, chopped and measured, when - suddenly - he'd lose the recipe, or read the recipe wrong, or put the capsicum in with the onions and the broccoli in with the cauliflower, when it was supposed to be the other way around. Then he'd decide to wing it and he'd be strumming depressed notes on his sitar for the next hour, wincing as his wrinkled, lemon scented hands caught on its strings with a painful twinge, and Xigbar laughed about how Xaldin might as well always cook, because it'd mean less of a mess for them to clean up afterwards.
The two that didn't cremate their food were Lexaeus and Xaldin. Both were good spirited about it, Demyx was glad to report. They seemed to realise that leaving the cooking to them was affordable, less torturous and saved them from the very likely chance of food poisoning. Not to mention it got them out of things like dusting and tracking down other Nobodies worthy of joining their diverse group.
But it wasn't just them Demyx had called for his Valentines Bake-athon. In the very centre of the spacious kitchen was an island, and around the island, Demyx had gathered the entire organisation. Their black stools stood out starkly against all the white furniture, floor and walls like a shadow walking across freshly fallen snow. Each Organisation member grumbled or frowned at the ingredients stacked in front of them, some glaring, others picking up the array of packets and examining their contents.
All in all, the kitchen was feeling more like a gathering for the dead, rather than a group baking session. The air seemed to be weighed down with a gloom that made Demyx twitchy and caused his leg to bounce. Axel had already elbowed him twice in the ribs over it; but he just couldn't get it to stop.
…
It's alright! It's supposed to smoke like that; burning the chocolate a bit'll make it crunchy! Who doesn't like a crunchy souffle?
So, the dry ingredients are done. We'll move onto the wet ones. You don't have to worry about putting these in any particular order, 'cause you're just going to mix them all together anyway. I'll start with the chocolate, but you can start with the eggs or vanilla essence – whatever you want.
Oh wow, it's not coming out of the saucepan very easily, is it?
…
The Superior had done a good job; he'd bought everything Demyx had reported they'd require and he'd organised it so everyone would be present. He was speaking to the group, getting them ready for their tasks as he stood at the head of the island. From what Demyx had caught between his worried mental tangents, he was warning them all about purposely messing around with each other's stuff and long-windedly wishing them all luck.
"Is this really necessary, Xemnas? Surely you don't need all of us to bake a cake." Vexen asked, his eyebrows raised slightly in disbelief.
Xemnas stopped to breathe, his arms returning to his sides, from where they'd been parallel to the bar as a sharp voice sliced through his speech.
"Not to be a wet blanket or anything, but I gotta agree. I mean, do we really want Luxord anywhere near the cake mix?" Xigbar mulled as he leant back on his stool, his feet hooked under Xaldin's, "I know he's the Gambler of Fate and all, but don't you think we're pushing our luck? Dude, we might die this time."
He grinned over at the blonde, his visible eye narrowing with mirth. Luxord rose an eyebrow and smiled too pleasantly back. His hands were swiftly shuffling his cards, flipping and halving them, before he combined them all into the one deck again. Demyx doubted the Gambler of Fate was going to go easy on Xigbar the next time they had a poker tournament... That usually meant he'd be rooming with Xaldin for the next week or so.
"Demyx is right," Xemnas answered, his eyes flickering over the group, "We need to spend more time together. We are less likely to fail in our ultimate goal if we learn to work as a group."
Lexaeus' voice rumbled, as his hand fell on the Academic's shoulder. Silencing him before his opened mouth could utter a sound, "We should begin then." Vexen huffed, his cheeks tinted pink as he ground his teeth and squinted threateningly up at the larger man.
Xemnas nodded, "Demyx will be leading the proceedings from here on."
The Melodious Nocturne leapt out of his seat as though it had suddenly started to burn when Xemnas waved him to the front. As he swapped places with the Superior, his hand disappeared inside his coat for the piece of paper scrunched up and tucked safely inside its pocket. The Superior took his stool in return, leaving Demyx alone and in the spot light.
Demyx gazed out at the crowd in front of him and couldn't help but giggled madly. How did The Superior do it? How did he lead meetings every week? This was nothing like performing for an audience; for one thing, his audience usually didn't mind him being there and playing music was soothing for his nerves. But this - Demyx was practically vibrating from the pressure!
"Right," He swallowed the golf ball lodged in his throat, his eyes scanning the room, taking in the expressions his comrades wore, "H-Hi everyone!"
At least not everyone looked like they wanted to chuck things at his head. To Demyx's left, Xigbar was smiling with encouragement, as was Luxord, beside him. Xaldin was scowling at him, with his arms crossed across his chest; which seemed normal for him. Demyx wondered if he found his constant questions annoying... Demyx tore his eyes away from the Lancer, moving onto Zexion, to Xaldin's right. He seemed bored, his eyes flickering around, as though he were watching a fly buzz about behind Demyx's head. Lexaeus and Vexen came next. Lexaeus seemed as he always did, his face saying he was angry when he wasn't feeling much at all. He was one of the few Demyx knew wouldn't deem it perfectly acceptable to poison his food or let spiders loose in his bed or whatever else the men in front of him thought he deserved. Vexen, however, looked as though he were quite willing to join in on the 'poisoning his food' idea; he was frowning, his eyebrows drawn into the centre of his forehead as he pressed his thin lips together. Saix didn't seem too worried beside the scientist. His eyes hadn't moved from Demyx since he'd stood up and his gaze was that of a respectful listener – only slightly scarier, since his eyes seemed to be glowing an eerie gold. Xemnas next, to Demyx's right, with Axel right at the end.
He swallowed loudly, again. It was time for an icebreaker:
"You all know what Valentines Day is, right?"
He waited for a response, receiving nods, rolled eyes and near silent murmurs in return.
"Right, uh... Well, I thought it'd be awesome if we did something together again. And I thought baking together would be the best thing. I mean, Lexaeus and Xaldin can't cook all the time, right? And it'd be pretty nifty if we could get a few more people to improve their skills. So, here we are! I thought it'd be best if we made two different types of cupcake: chocolate and good, old vanilla. I've, uh," He struggled with the paper, grinning sheepishly as he flipped it onto its front, and turned it right side up. He flattened it onto the cleared area of bench in front of him.
"Right, I've come up with jobs for you all!"
He cleared his throat loudly, shifting so he was standing straighter, his feet shoulder width apart, "I figured that since you two are pretty careful and stuff, Vexen and Zexion could measure. Lexaeus will combine and stir. Axel and Luxord will place these cupcake cups in the trays after Saix and Xigbar have greased the outsides. Lastly, Xaldin will set up the oven and turn it on to preheat." He smiled encouragingly, "Xemnas and I are going to get started on the icing and we'll all clean!"
"Wait, wait, wait," Axel raised a hand, his palm facing Demyx, "Why do you get a fun job?"
Demyx cringed, "Luck?" He laughed nervously, stepping forward so he could bend over the island, "So, anyway! Here's the recipe!"
He reached into the centre of the bench, yanking the plastic covered recipes to himself, before turned to smile at Vexen and Zexion.
"Chocolate or vanilla?"
Zexion answered first, "I'll take the chocolate."
…
Step Four's the easiest of the lot! After scooping the cake mix into your greased tray, drop it onto the counter a few times. My mum taught me this trick; it's supposed to help your cake rise. I don't know how it works, but it always did whenever she used to do it - hey Axel! Don't worry, I'll be making nicer noise in a minute – there you go!
Alright, I'll just grab my mittens. Aren't they awesome? I got them for cheap down at Hollow Bastion. I don't know why no one bought them before I did; who doesn't like a couple of blue fishy swimming around on their mitts?
The sales lady wasn't that bad. All she did was ask if we spoke whale. It was a fun lesson too! I'll show you after I'm done with this part.
But getting back on track: take your cake and place it in the oven. And let it cook for about 20 minutes. Check it after ten though, in case you need to turn the oven down. You don't want to burn your souffle.
…
"Can we start putting it in the trays now?"
"Absolutely not. The recipe said to let it sit for three minutes, so we will do just that."
"It's already been three minutes!"
"Stop being incorrigible; we still have 34 seconds."
"Big whoop."
Demyx was glad to know he'd been right when he put Vexen and Zexion in charge of measuring. Both were quite stubborn, even if Zexion had a habit of letting trouble happen just so he could see the result. But where Zexion wasn't pushy, Vexen was. The man had taken to keeping a watchful eye over both his and the Cloaked Schemer's mixtures, like a hawk keeping watch over her eggs. Vexen squinted at Axel, as though doing so would make the man combust. The red head continued to practically bounce in his seat, waiting to get started on his second job. The Academic shot him down when the red head asked again. Demyx cringed back when Vexen picked up the wooden spoon down beside the bowl and waved it threateningly.
Demyx blinked rapidly as his vision went black, clear, black and found clear, shiny glass waved in front of his face a moment after that.
"Earth to Little Dude, time to get up and keep putting."
Demyx grinned, taking the bowl as Xigbar waved his tea towel at him, "Or do I need to use this on your ass?" He started to wind the towel up.
He shook his head and turned back to his assignment, and yanked open a cupboard door to peer inside. He, Xigbar, Lexaeus and Saix had started the cleaning. There wasn't much, but they figured there'd be less when everything was done if they did what they could then. And they could get everyone else to do it – or so Saix had claimed. He seemed to be keen on the maintaining of balance within the organisation, making sure that no one did too much of the one thing or another member did too little.
"The Superior will wipe." He'd said, "Zexion will wash, whilst Luxord will return the items to their places."
It seemed that because Vexen did their laundry, the man got out doing any kitchen duties; which was fine with Demyx. He was determined to never touch the washing machine again after he'd turned his favourite Garu shirt bright yellow.
Xaldin on the other hand, had nominated himself for cake sitting duty.
"Are you sure you don't want me to help?" Demyx asked, as he put away the last spoon for the time being and slunk over to the violet eyed man a broad smile brightening his face, "I don't mind."
Xaldin regarded him patiently, as Demyx flinched back a few steps at the shrieking clangs of several metal spoons being dumped onto the bench top.
Axel looked pointedly at Vexen, as he pushed the spoons into the centre of the island with another bout of deafening clatter.
"Seven seconds."
Demyx moved to stand beside Xaldin again, a sheepish smile blossoming on his face. He tapped a finger against his thigh, "So can I?"
"There only needs to be one person out here; there's only one oven and it isn't very large at all." Xaldin intoned quietly, as he turned back to the ruckus in front of them, "I'm sure you have better things to do, IX."
"Well, could I stay here anyway? I've been working on a new song and it'd be really great to get some feedback!"
Xaldin didn't turn to look at him, instead flipping the page of the newspaper in front of him, "If you want."
"Awesome!"
"Now?"
"Are you unable to count? Yes, VIII, now."
Axel snatched up a spoon, before making a beeline towards the trays he'd decorated with silver and white with an exaggerated 'finally!'. Demyx was beside him a moment later, his own shining spoon and tray in hand.
"You can't overfill them, alright, Axe?"
Somehow Xemnas had managed to figure that using at least ten little trays would be safer than using five larger ones. One reason, he'd explained as Demyx had attempted to find a topic they could both talk about whilst he and Xemnas mixed food dye with icing sugar, was that there'd be less chance of a sneak attack.
"We know Axel and Xigbar are prone to mischief, however, Vexen may see this as an opportunity for revenge, whilst Zexion's curiosity may get the better of him."
Which was why Demyx had decided they'd all fill their own little, silver, cupcake cups.
…
Hey, hey, come over here, it's time to record the big finish! C'mon keep still, you'll make everyone dizzy like that. Okay, ready? Green light on, red light flashing, can you see me in the screen? Cool.
Alright, folks, it's been just under 20 minutes and our souffles ought to be done. Let me just check mine; pfffor! Kck, kck, kck! Uh, there's not – kck, kck! - supposed to be that much smoke! Kck! But, that's alright, I'm sure the cake's just – Hrrrck, kck! Excuse me...
I know it's a little brown, but here's our souffle!
…
Demyx glanced quickly around the now rainbow coloured island. A grin quirked his lips up at the intense feeling of concentration his friends had submerged themselves in.
Each was staring down at the cupcake either nestled gently between their fingers, cupped in their palm or sitting innocently on the bench top. Most had their eyebrows tilted down, into the centre of their foreheads, others – like Xigbar – had their tongues sticking out and curling over their top lip, whilst others were scowling, and the rest were wearing expressions as bland as they usually did.
The cupcakes had made it out of the oven well. Some were crispier than others, but they all seemed edible. Each fit in the palm of Demyx's hand, each was either a golden or dark brown that was the colour of milk chocolate. Some were a mixture of both; with harder, crunchier, pale tops.
Demyx spied Xemnas sparing a moment to glance over at Saix's beside him. The nocturne's mouth dropped open when he saw why.
"Holy fudge, Saix! You didn't tell me you're an artist!"
Everyone at the table moved to take a look, as Saix regarded Demyx with a carefully level gaze. Demyx was stuck looking at the diviner's cupcake versions of them all. The icing wasn't caked on neatly, leaving deep ravines in the bright yellow of Vexen's hair, giving it texture that suited the fall of the Chilly Academic's hair rather than fought it. He'd done the same for the members before Vexen, even going as far as to carve out the braids in Xaldin's hair. Demyx wasn't sure he'd be able to see them eaten...
It was Zexion that had suggested this aspect of their activity: to make a cupcake that represented each member with the icing, hundreds and thousands, chocolate sprinkles, stars and whatever else Xemnas had summoned from who knew where.
Demyx could admit he was terrible at drawing, but the little stick figures he'd carefully piped onto his cupcakes were recognisable. To him at least. Now he was smearing brightly coloured icing over the chocolate lines, giving them all rockstar clothes, stars for eyes and a background to suit the music style Demyx deemed would go best with each of them. He should have made Axel a bit skinnier though... He'd just smear some more sprinkles into the background! No problem!
"Luxord, dude, you know I love ya, but seriously – are those hearts?"
Demyx looked up in time to see Luxord send a small smirk at Xigbar before he replied, quite contently, "Yes, Xigbar. Don't worry, I've made sure you can all recognise yourselves."
Xigbar looked as though he didn't know whether he found them cute or was repulsed as he squinted down at a heart cupcake with an eye-patch and dark scar.
"Why does this one have such thin eyes?" Zexion asked as he leant over, his Lexaeus cupcake poised in one hand with a knife in the other.
"It's Vexen."
Demyx grinned broadly at the annoyed "Pardon?" said scientist offered and the hasty screech of the chair as Vexen rounded the table to examine the offending cupcake himself.
…
Don't poke it, Axel! It's still hot!
It does look kind of pathetic, doesn't it? It reminds me a bit of a crater, actually. If we made some of that strawberry sauce we could pretend it's overflowing with lava!
…
"Are you picking my eyes off on purpose?"
"Dude, they're like fuckin' nifty. Look!"
Xaldin didn't look very amused as Xigbar repositioned the two purple sprinkles once laid horizontally, above one another, then scooched them really close.
Xigbar barked out a laugh, "Look! You're a Cyclops!"
Demyx smiled goofily as Xaldin shook his head and ate his Xigbar cupcake in two bites.
"Oi, dude! Easy there! I've only got one eye left!"
The Melodious Nocturne sat back as he carefully licked the icing off his rock-star Luxord cupcake, taking in the scene around him with something he would have said was accomplished pride. He'd managed – despite all odds – to have the entire Organisation seated around their huge dining table, cupcakes – all prettied up and ready to eat – in front of them, hanging out without looking as though they wanted to rip each other's ears off.
And no one had died yet from food poisoning either!
Aquamarine eyes found themselves carefully taking in each member, all grouped or paired off depending on who they preferred for company.
Xemnas and Saix were at the head of the table, chatting quietly. Or, at least, Xemnas was. Saix's few words seemed to only be able to get through The Superior's half of the conversation when the dark skinned man took a bite of his rather messy cupcakes.
Unlike Saix, Xemnas didn't seem to possess an artistic bone in his body. His icing was splattered over his cupcakes in various coloured combinations that maybe could have resembled each of them, had they been catapulted straight at a wall.
But Xemnas seemed content with them, slowly chewing as Saix explained this and that, before eating one of his own in one go. Demyx nearly cried when he saw cupcake him disappear into the depths of Saix's finely and sharply toothed mouth.
As was usual, Vexen, Lexaeus and Zexion were next. Zexion was busy examining each of his companion's cupcakes with an air of laid back curiousity, before pushing them towards their creators and thus being eaten.
"I've no delusions of thinking myself at all good of drawing, Zexion." Vexen had said as he'd pushed his cakes towards the Cloaked Schemer.
Demyx had blinked at the utterly boring decorations Vexen had used. One base colour – a different shade for each member – and their respective numbers written with a spindly hand. The only one that had any sort of interest had been Vexen's representation of the Flurry of Flames.
"Why does Axel's have holes in it?" Demyx had asked whilst checking up on his friends' work.
"Isn't it you that insists that 'one can dream', IX?"
Demyx had cringed and excused himself to look at Lexaeus' then.
Now Lexaeus'... Demyx really wasn't sure what to make of his. He'd figured Axel would have the hardest to understand representations, if only to annoy the others, but the Silent Hero's was certainly... Abstract.
Like Vexen's they had a base colour, some the same, but a few differing in shades to the blonde scientist's. However, instead of their numbers, he'd placed very deliberate lines and splodges of chocolate icing. Demyx had asked about it, the answer he'd received hardly helping in his understanding the representation of himself: a very comfortably wriggly line with the softest of chocolate spots following it at random intervals.
"What do you mean, 'steps'?" He'd asked, eyes wide with question.
Lexaeus had rumbled, "Think about it."
Zexion's, thankfully, was much easier to understand.
"You know that my nose is more sensitive than everyone else's. Each of you are represented with what you smell most like."
Demyx was glad to know he smelt like the sea salt ice cream he loved. Some of the others were easy to pick out – Xigbar smelling like the gun cleaner he so loved to use and Axel smelling like a freshly lit match – but others were more difficult. It had taken him a few moments to realise that the old book represented The Superior and his paperwork, whilst Saix was marked by an odd collection of coloured inks each a colour of the rainbow. Demyx wondered if Zexion was trying to convey something other than Saix's love of writing, drawing and planning with that one... He hadn't been able to guess that the cigar was Luxord until he'd eliminated everyone else.
On the opposite side of the table, Luxord sat talking animatedly with Xigbar and Xaldin.
As put off as he'd seemed with Luxord's choice of hearts ("I'm keeping with the holiday.") he didn't to seem too bothered by them now. He seemed content eating his own batch, decorated with the scarred remains of his fellow Organisation members. He'd said it was to see what each of them would look like with their own set of scars and the like, and Demyx couldn't help but agree when he'd given him a fishy tattoo, an eyebrow ring and a small scar on his collar bone. He looked pretty awesome. Badass, even! Even the moustache looked great!
Xaldin's, on the other hand, were kinda creepy...
"Xaldin, not that I don't like what you've done – it's great, y'know! - but, um... Why are we all so blanked faced?"
"We don't have hearts."
"Oh."
"Oi!"
Demyx jumped, dropping his cupcake Saix face first on the table. He squeaked, picking it up. "I didn't mean to!" He hadn't meant to smear his face all over the table! And the mess – quickly he set to rubbing off the bright blue icing, sticking his finger in his mouth and quickly licking it away as Axel laughed to his left.
Axel crossed his arms, smiling despite himself, "I knew it! You weren't listening to a word I was saying!"
Demyx peered over at the red head with big eyes, "'M sorry!" He pleaded around a mouthful of icing, "I w's th'nking!"
"Well don't do that too hard! You might break something." Axel cackled again, at Demyx's unhappy stare. "As I was saying, I don't know how you did it, but you really came through this time." He picked up one of his cupcakes – Axel had gone with a kissy faced theme, earning groans and unhappy chuffs from various members as he warped their faces with giant '3's for mouths – and ate Xemnas in two bites, "This was pretty fun."
Demyx couldn't help but grin as he snatched up the rest of his now dead Saix cupcake, "Thanks!"
…
I'm sure it's edible! Do you want to try it first?
It won't poison you! I mean, I may have spilt a little bit more vanilla essence into it than the recipe said, but I'm sure it hasn't done anything bad to the taste.
Vanilla essence is alcoholic? Really? I, uh, didn't know that... Uh, maybe we should get Xigbar to try it then, or Luxord. Luxord likes alcohol.
Axeeeeel, please don't. Vexen's already angry with me for insulting his new vacuum thing and I doubt Xigbar would make a portal just so you can pelt a limp and very brittle looking souffle at his friend's head.
Can you at least say you made it?
Give me ten minutes! Vexen can't know I cooked that! Dusky, hi, yeah, keep still so I can take this off –
Wait, I've nearly got it.
Are you available tomorrow, Dusky? We can try again then.
Thank y-
Woffy: It was supposed to be for OrganizationLove's (on dA) Valentines Day contest back in February last year, but I got writer's block right near the end and couldn't submit it. The theme was sweet. I suppose I'll count it as this year's Valentines Day tribute, even if it is bloody early.
I gotta admit, this was not my first idea, but I love it none the less. I hope you enjoyed reading it~ :D Critique and reviews in general are encouraged, lovelies.
Again, this can be classified as a sequel to Black Bells, though I don't think you need to read it in order to get this.
Thanks for reading~