THE MUSIC VIDEO MUST BE SEEN TO UNDERSTAND MOST OF THE STORY, PLEASE LOOK FOR AFTER THE SONG INFORMATION FOR THE LINK!

Disclaimer: I own nothing, Riku reminds me. And even for a while Xemnas reminded me until Riku reminded him too. Damn. I promise to get Sora one day, I love him more than Riku! I can prove it! Who supports him more and doesn't leave him. Huh? Huh? Huh??

Title: Dive Alive

Authoress: Tysonkaiexperiment

Warnings: Mentions of sex, and a wolf biting Sora, and uh... yeah... dark thoughts...?

Couplings: XemnasSora and RikuSora with mentions of XemSai

Summary: Gift to Saber-Kon, song by Tarja Turunen. And when Xemnas kidnapped him and forced him to be his wife and Saïx hated him as Xemnas's choice, Sora thought that was the rest of his life. He didn't know that Riku, a god, ranked higher than Xemnas. RiSo.

Dedication:To Saber-Kon, who drew me a picture of my first OC, Ryuya Kazemoto. The picture is lovely and I even printed and posted it on my wall because I loved it so much!

Song Title: Die Alive

Artist: Tarja Turunen

Album: My Winter Storm (2007)

Music Video Link: http : / / www. Youtube. Com/ watch?v (equal) M7F-YYSoiK4

There are 9 spaces to remove and an equal sign to put in, so yeah, go watch!

Die Alive

Open up the night,
Led by just a feeling.
All around is light,
Everything is healing.

Trembling, the boy gave a soft moan of discomfort. He was cold, below him was something hard as stone, and even though there was some type of fabric at his head (maybe a hope of comfort?) it did nothing to help how uncomfortable it was. He opened his eyes, expecting to be blinded by sunlight; however there was barely any windows, small and at the top of the wall farthest from him (it seemed to be dark out except for the random flashes of thunder). The only light was from a small Savoy house ceiling light which cord tapped against the lampshade like it had just turned on. He looked down, a blanket below him on a large stone slab like a sort of makeshift bed. Where his head had been was a duffel bag—not his—had been lying below him, obviously full of nothing but things like books and novels.

He ran a hand through his hair, fingers slipping through the chocolate-colored spikes like water, but they stopped and pressed to something that hadn't been there before. He winced, hissing as his fingers pressed against the bump. It was only sore, he realized, but he decided not to touch it just in case. And that's when he heard it, a hiss from near his head. There was a dog—maybe a wolf?—and it had oddly blue hair. He never remembered hearing wolves could have blue hair. Shrugging it off like a horrible nightmare, he rolled off the make-shift bed so that he was kneeling in front of the blue dog. He raised a hand slowly, gaze flickering in wonder if it was comfortable with humans.

It obviously wasn't, when it snapped at him, golden eyes glowing as it snapped back, like it was disgusted with him. And the blood slipped down his thumb and pointer fingers like water, the glistening red almost shinning in the light of the thunder and small lamp from above. Sora slowly pulled back until he stood, and he went around the other side of the bed until he could make it out of the door in the corner.

His boots were silent, a small scuff or two against the stone floors, but he could hear nothing else but thunder. Clutching the bloodied hand to his chest, he pressed closer, gulping harshly and trying not to scare himself. And suddenly in front of him, there were two more wolves, not blue, but with the same glowing eyes. They were licking their lips and teeth, as if they could smell his weak and fragile body. Nervously, he hoped they would let him pass, but he cradled his red hand to himself and took a shaky step forward. The creatures snapped their fangs, saliva shooting everywhere as their mouths flapped open and shut. He slipped back two steps, eyes wide as the thunder flashed and gave the wolves an obvious glimpse of his bit hand.

Turning away, he slipped back the way he came, his fingers from his blooded right hand pressing against the wall and leaving dark stains of glistening blood along the stone walls. He came back to the room he woke in, and before the blue-haired wolf could snap or bite him again he took the door opposite of the one he just entered from.

No more fate and no more mystery,
Even as time falls away.
I live my days every moment and it's memory,
not only to survive: to die alive.

The first thing he saw when the lightening flashed into the not-lit room was that it was small. There was only a dresser, a table, a chair against the floor in an odd position and one against the side of the table, and a door leading somewhere else on the opposite wall. However, what he focused on was the bag sitting on the table by itself. Under it, held by a corner, was a small envelope with the name 'Sora' written in beautiful cursive. Was that his name? Sora? He couldn't remember anything before he woke up, did this mean something? He chose to open the backpack first, afraid of what the envelope might have held for him. Inside the black bag was a small photo album, of him, a beautiful redheaded girl with violet eyes, a blond that apparently looked like him, and a redhead who was almost always clinging to the blond. There were several photos of them together—laughing, playing, joking—but he couldn't remember anything. Or anyone. He dropped them to the floor, ignoring how his boot stepped on a picture of them all together and crushed it into the dirt covered stone. Digging through the backpack further he came across nothing except black fabric.

Pulling it out he could see the ends of the sleeves, neckline, and bottom were a royal blue that matched against the rest of the black fabric perfectly. The fabric was velvet, warm by just the touch and he shivered. He hadn't realized it until just then that he was cold beyond belief, he'd even begun to shiver. He slipped his hand through the right sleeve, the fabric almost seemed to repel the blood from his cut, but he did not wince or hiss. Instead it pressed it through fully, and when it came out the other end of the sleeve the cut was gone, not a trace of blood left. He gave it a glance over, but then he began to shiver more, and instead he didn't care. He slipped it on completely over his body, it covered his black jeans, black tang top, and black leather jacket completely and was so large he nearly swam in it.

The only thing left, he realized, was the envelope, and he slipped it off the note inside easily, ignoring the pieces of it that fell to the floor silently. His eyes raked over the beautiful writing, it was written in some kind of dried red ink, the metallic smell coming on full force but for some reason he wasn't effected by it. And as he got to the end of the letter, he blinked slowly and let it fall to the floor before continuing around the side of the table towards the other door.

'Sora,

I know you may not remember anything before waking up, and that's fine, because that's what was supposed to happen. Your full name is Sora Megami Kaze, which, ironically, is translated to Sky Goddess of Wind. Your mother had named you before she moved on and they had told her you were to be a girl, and as a dying wish she asked your father to keep you with that name and so he did. Your father has moved on, and your brother has moved away to live with his husband in another city, and I did not wish for you to live in your apartment alone anymore. I promised you when you were younger that I would find you and marry you, and I keep hold of that promise, we will wed when you are good and ready. I know you'll remember me addressing myself as Death when we first met, and if not I hope that that will not scare you of now. I'll only be able to visit you at night, however, and as such I ask for you to dorn the robes in the bag and do as you wish. The house is completely yours, no one should harm you, ever, I will find out when I return. I hope you welcome me with open arms.

-Shinigami

P.S. You may address me by the name I was born with, it's Xemnas.'

He stepped through the door, there was some lighting here, again from the ceiling, but this time he could actually see most of the hallway rather than just in front of him. The hallway was long, paintings adorning the walls even though several other rooms had been empty. The pictures would be ones not usually found, however, and they featured death to the fullest. Skin upon skin covered in beautiful rivers of blood, bones crushed upon bones, and decaying corpses among corpses as men, titans, warriors crushed them underneath feet and hooves and wheels. Creatures were screaming, crying, and voicing their horrors as utter destruction came into their lives. They looked unsuspecting, damaged, tainted. And suddenly the boy didn't want to be there, he wanted to be in the faint traces of the home he could remember. He could smell the charcoal and wood of the fireplace, the warmth of the flames as they whipped into the warming air, the smell of chocolate as he grasped the mug and opened a rustic smelling book. It seemed to leave his mind just as soon as it came, and the boy wished for more. He wished and longed for something that would even seem remotely like home, so that, if he couldn't go back, he could still dream of it.

He came across a door, a small opening with bars showing a withered and dead tree outside. Thunder crashed in front of the house, but the boy ignored it, he grasped the dark, heavy iron handle and pulled. By the time he put his weight into it, the door opened slightly and rats and other creatures he'd never seen before came crawling into the house, seeking shelter. He closed the door, heart beating erratically as he pushed against the wall to make his way across the room and back to the hallway with the openings to doors and other hallways.

Overwhelming love,
heaven's just a feeling.
Singing in my blood,
keeping me from kneeling.

There were wolves in several of the hallways he had entered, and the fifth one he came across they had been running to him. At first he froze before clutching the wall to his left in hopes that they would ignore him. It wasn't the best option, but he was scared, what would happen if he was to be bit now? And he sucked in a breath as he could feel their fur and bodies press against his cloak as they ran past him. He had waited a few moments before opening his eyes, only to meet a gorgeous shade of blue ones. They were of insurmountable beauty and they were staring at him so hard he could not move. But without warning, the wolf's tail started to move, as if in a slow motion wag, and before he knew what was happening the boy leaned down to shakily hold his hand out to the wolf's sniffing nose. The wolf's ears had been flattened in nervousness, but it cautiously sniffed the boy's hand, then, without warning, gave a small hesitant lick. The boy flinched, but he giggled immensely as the wolf licked this time with more vigor and then nuzzled itself into his hand. He reached up, scratching behind it's ear softly and the wolf whimpered in pleasure. There was a growl to his right and the blue wolf he'd been trying to avoid was glaring at them like he would tear apart either of them. The wolf slipped away from his grip and flattened it's ears again before it ran right past the blue wolf. The wolf snarled, causing the boy to jump back in fear. Seeming satisfied, the wolf turned and left the hallway, looking rather proud.

For the next few days it was certainly odd, but nonetheless a rather weird way to live on the edge of life. He learned that the wolves were shape shifters, they had been allowed to choose one form in their tribe, and these few chose wolves. It was certainly startling when there was a naked man in the room you had fallen asleep in. And when he asked the boy to request anything, he asked the man to, quite frankly, get some clothes on. Breakfast, he learned, just seemed to be on the table whenever the wolf-man brought him down for breakfast. They had given him a room, of a bed and pillows so fluffy and light that it made him never want to leave the room. His stomach always turned at the loss of food about an hour after he woke up, so he always found himself getting up anyway. During the afternoons he was usually found searching within rooms like the library, tea room, and sewing room. The blue wolf-man, Saïx, rarely talked to him (if anything he snapped at him) and he held little care for whatever the boy did. The wolf-men were sweet, and willing, and were more knowledgeable than he gave them credit for. And for the nights when they forced him to bed, they were dark and hazy, but in no means scary. It was odd, he would often wake up sore, letters and notes of love and tenderness next to him, but his body hung on the high-point of ecstasy and he was always waking with the wonderful sense of pleasure. He had asked one of the wolf-men about it, but he would, instead, blush and avert his gaze with the boy unsure of what he had done wrong.

The days buzzed by quickly, and even though mornings were filled with expansive reading (he could never afford books of that sort) and wonderful, hazy pleasure by night, home still called to him. Except for the wolf-men there were no sense of warmth throughout the entire house and it shocked the boy to the core. Whenever his mind filled his dreams with fantasies of home they would always be filled with warmth, love and tenderness. Flowers would grow almost everywhere (everything that was green had died a second after birth here), there would be warmth from anything within a foot (the walls and beds were cold and the hands pleasuring his skin were always icy), and there was always a loving, gentle man that would stand there with a gorgeous smile on his face and whisper to him how happy he was to have him (He had never talked romantically face to face before).

He found himself talking to one of the wolves, it seemed to be the odd one of the group for it never changed into it's human form. They claimed it was barely a pup, a young thing, and it did not understand how to change. The boy found it a little odd, since it was as big as a regular wolf, but he guessed their race and clan had their own rules. But he still took the wolf with him wherever he went and told his secrets and took comfort in the fact it still seemed to listen. "I want a real home one day." He told it, as if he knew he would be getting out of the house soon, "One with flowers, and fireplaces, and children, and someone to love me."

The wolf stared at him before dropping it's head into the boy's lap, a demand to be pet. The boy smiled, fingers running through the silken fur with tenderness. The wolf would sigh contently for hours on end and slowly the boy forgot about the library and tea room and sewing room. He focused on this wolf, a truer friend then anyone he could remember, one who was loyal, listened, and followed him everywhere. The wolf helped him often, the boy took it upon himself to try and lighten the house up. It seemed, however, that every time he tried, the blue-haired wolf-man Saïx just came and tore it down. He had done nothing but shout at him, hateful words and dark comments and it brought the boy to tears until the wolf pressed it's nose to the boy's arm and made him giggle at the coldness. He often tried to ignore Saïx, bumbling his way throughout the house and thanking whatever wolf-man for whatever they were in charge of doing.

No more fate and no more mystery,
Even as time falls away.
I live my days every moment and it's memory,
not only to survive: to die alive.

And then one day, it changed, when he was led down to breakfast Saïx had looked at him and even muttered a 'good morning', even if it did seem a little forced. The boy smiled back softly, offering a soothing 'good morning' before bowing. As uncomfortable as things were, in an unknown place it was simply better to make friends with anyone so that someone would always have one's back. The blue haired wolf-man even talked with him during breakfast, he did not once snarl at him, and quite possibly he was one of the most charming creatures the boy had ever met during his stay. He could tell the blue-haired man did not wish to be there, and would have much more preferred tearing him limb from limb, so he took this opportunity to at least try to befriend the other as much as possible.

Saïx didn't say too much, if he asked about the person that owned the house the blue haired wolf-man would simply change the subject, an obvious sign of forcing one to drop the subject. It had been weird when Saïx kept him company all day and did not waver once from him. For all his growls and hatred, he apparently did not expect the boy to know so much history and love literature and arts much like he did. The boy even noticed a change in him when Saïx had challenged him to a conversation about what the book Hamlet really meant. And when Saïx did leave him in time for bed, he stated that Xemnas wasn't happy with the way the boy was feeling the past few days. The boy accepted it, however he still didn't know who Xemnas was or what he was doing there, so he assumed that he was the lord of this house.

It was odd when he woke up halfway through the night and he came face to face with glowing golden eyes. There was no light on, but he could almost feel the smile from the (man maybe?) creature on top of him. And before he knew it, a hand with sharp nails grabbed onto his left thigh, there was a light squeeze of skin but the creature had adjusted slightly and it's warmth was closer, and the boy jolted in pleasure. "Are you enjoying yourself?" Came the whisper, it was not harsh nor dark but at the same time there was no warmth of care from the words. There were several more adjustments and several more jolts of pleasure, and the boy couldn't do anything but wither in glorious pleasure and let his mind become hazy.

During one point he blacked out and when he awoke the creature was gone, the wonderful feeling lingering like usual, and the wolf he'd been pampering (which he just recently started to call Ao, the Japanese word for blue) at his side, all that lingered in his mind was those golden eyes. He barely moved, breathed, or read without those eyes flashing into view, stopping him in his tracks and causing him to feel like he needed to escape. He was sure he wasn't claustrophobic, but when they came into his mind the walls felt tight and he needed to escape wherever he was. How long had he been here, days, weeks, months, years? He didn't know, he never knew, he couldn't even remember his own name. But everything was changing, so horribly fast and he felt uncomfortable. It was all too much to take in, how could he tell what was right and what was wrong when he couldn't even pronounce his own name?

And when Ao came over and nuzzled it's nose past his clenched arms until it touched his cheek, the boy grasped the fur and gripped tightly, sobbing uncontrollably. "I want home."

Die alive!

The boy lost himself during dizzying weeks and weeks, the food held no flavor on his tongue, the once pleasure on his body made him feel numb, and he knew the house from top to bottom and had read every book so many times he could say them all word for word. He felt no more comfort, Saïx still putting up a false care, and the golden eyes he'd grown to hate woke him up every evening. They had, at first, offered pleasure, but now he felt sick, unpleasant, and downright disgusted. He always felt like he'd wretch harshly, and even a couple times managed to dry heave. Suddenly things grew cold again, feelings died, and happiness was gone. And he realized, just like the plants he attempted to bring in the house, his first few weeks were like seeds. The first bit of new life was wonderful, and as you grew your life began to dull and you realized you were stuck in the same spot as before, and you aged knowing you were stuck and would never be able to move.

Ao always waited on him daily, bringing cold towels when he felt feverish and warm towels when he felt cold, but it did nothing to help the aching in his heart, mind, and soul. Was this ever to change? He guessed not, the fact was, nothing had changed before, why should they change now? It was almost obvious, with the cruel smirk Saïx constantly sent him, and the pitying looks the wolf-men often gave him. But slowly it was becoming routine to him, he didn't need to offer any more warm smiles, or twinkling eyes, or strikingly gorgeous looks. Instead he woke, ate, and slipped to the roof so that he could watch the sunrise.

Ao had popped in several days later with something the boy had forgotten long ago. The book was black, beautiful golden thick lines and elegant curves on the cover and back and on the spine the same gold was photo album written in cursive. He looked at each photo inside, gazing over what he had taken for granted so long ago. The two males were obviously happy, the redhead's lips almost always on the blonds, and they were smiling, and happy, and they truly cherished life. A picture called out to him, it was himself, sitting next to the blond and he was smiling as the blond was laughing and under it in messy hand writing was the words 'brothers by blood, best friends by choice' and under that was 'You're the best brother ever Sora, don't change!'.

Whether or not he was Sora, he changed, he felt the change, and suddenly he felt as if he went back on something he promised. And he felt horrible, his stomach turning, and he skipped to another page in hopes that it would lessen the feeling. It did, and this time he came to a picture with himself and a beautiful redheaded girl standing next to him and they were both smiling. Under the picture, in neat cursive, was 'don't forget about me Sora, ever, I'm always your best friend, and I will always be your bond-sister'. And he dry heaved next to the bed, tears welling up in his once glistening eyes.

He felt awkward at best and ignored the look Ao was giving him. Just by looking at the picture, he realized he wanted to go home. They felt like home, the felt like his life. Why weren't they here, why wasn't he with them?

And then he heard it, the wolves were running down the stairs, paws scraping across the stone in hurried steps. He had never heard it before, and he was, truth be told, not only scared but excited. This feeling was new, this feeling was fresh and he loved it. There was that sense of horror, one unlike anything he'd felt before, and it was rushed with the adrenaline to find out just what was going on. He turned to see if Ao had changed in any way, but the wolf was gone, the boy didn't even see him leaving, and this worried him greatly because they seemed to have a special bond. He placed the book aside and raced out the door of the room, shoes going down the stone steps in twos and not slowing until he reached the door. It was the door of the dinning room, and it had always been completely locked and guarded.

This time, however, several wolves were moving closer, then moving back from it, and he clutched the wall in support, wondering just what was going on. Some of the wolves were whimpering and the others were growling and before someone could do anything else a dark wave of gust hit the doors. It sent the boy back a few steps and he had to grab the stone wall harshly as the next three gusts tore at the door with all it's power. He could hear the snap, and as the wolves unconscious bodies littered the floor, the boy looked ahead. The door was open completely, there was no more thunder and the darkness was clearing. He could see a cliff, and a beach, and even a moon.

No more fate and no more mystery,
Even as time falls away.
I live my days every moment and it's memory,
not only to survive: to die alive.

He took a shaky step forward and before he could ask himself what he was doing he was outside fully. Ahead of him was the dead tree, Saïx was kneeling next to a tall silver-haired man, across from them stood a shorter male with silver hair, a mouse-looking creature, and several men in armor. Giving a quick glance behind him, the house was deteriorating on it's own, stone and wood structure falling as if it was merely sand caught in the harsh winds wisping around it. He looked forward, and the mouse creature raised a golden key-looking blade to the base of the tall silveret's neck, and he twitched, his foot snapping a branch in front of him. Suddenly all eyes were on him and he didn't know what to do.

The tall silver-haired man bowing caught his attention first, he had those golden eyes. The ones that had given him both pain and pleasure. He had frozen, the man's eyes staring at him with an unspoken gaze. His cloak was white with intricate black designs making odd shapes and twisting ends, he had never seen one like it before. Saïx was next to the man, face emotionless but eyes blazing with an inner fire.

"Sora." The shorter silveret replied, and when he looked at him he was met with insurmountable blue eyes.

It had almost seemed like a dream, to recognize those eyes even with the new hint of green in them, "... Ao...?" And he stepped up, ignoring the loud growl the golden-eyed man kneeling as he placed a hand on the young silveret's cheek. The silveret nuzzled into it, and when he looked up the boy gave a gorgeous smile, "Ao..."

"He is my husband, I shall do as I—."

"I'd keep quiet, Xemnas." The mouse creature stated and he quickly caught the boy's attention, "Are you alright? I'm sorry we did not catch on further."

He looked so confused and lost that the mouse pitied him, but the young silveret clasped a hand over the brunet's, "Sora." He licked his lips, "You were human, you lived a normal life until Xemnas took you from your home."

Those golden eyes, he couldn't stop staring at them now, "But... why...?"

"Because that's the way death gains it's wife or husband, by taking them from everyone they hold dear." Ao stated firmly, "Though he took you, and taking humans is strictly forbidden."

There was nothing much to say after that, what could he say? He barely understood what was happening to him, he didn't think he ever would. Death? Wolves? It was as if these past weeks—months—were a dream. What was he to do now without any memories. He ignored the golden eyes of the hissing man, and Ao lead him to the other side of the tree as the mouse began to tell the man and Saïx their punishments.

"You'll be with me during recovery, you'll gain your memories back slowly, and when they're back you can visit your brother again." Ao's hand was held out to him, pale pink lips twisted into a beautiful smile, "By the way, you may keep calling me Ao, but my real name is Riku, I'm god of the Twilight."

The boy stared at him, unsure of what Ao was saying was the truth. He didn't even know if this was Ao, it could've been some trick because he didn't even know what Ao's human body looked like.

"Mizuiro..." 'Riku' whispered the Japanese word for sky blue softly, a sweet smile on his face, "Do you remember what you told me?"

And he stared at the silveret, if this was a trick then it should have no memories, and he was not going to give it any in that case.

"You wanted a home." The 'god' had said, smile never wavering, "There could be roses, or forget-me-nots, whatever you desire, the fireplaces could burn for as long as you want them to and we could drink by them while we read a book, there will be at least two—hopefully twins—and they will look just like their parents so much that we'll laugh, and I promise that there isn't anyone who loves you more then I."

And tears welled into the boys eyes, each of his fantasies had been offered to him, not only by someone who could take him from here, but by a god who's word was always his rule. His memories would return, and he wouldn't feel so destroyed anymore, and the pleasure wouldn't just turn numb, it would always be different with someone you cared about, and the food would never stale in your mouth, and the rooms would never be colder than ice.

"I want a real home one day."

And the boy grasped Riku's hand slowly and gave a beautiful smile through crystal tears. It had been his first smile in weeks, and then the silveret's lips was upon his and the new sensation was both wonderful, calming, and exciting. He had never had this sensation before, and he knew this was the pleasure he would be seeking and the pleasure the silveret would give.

"One with flowers, and fireplaces, and children, and someone to love me."

And now he had it.

Die Alive!
Die Alive!

Tke: I thought I had this perfectly planed, then it didn't work out, then when I thought all was lost Kiraracutie came in to save the day. I luvs her. Though I know she'll kill me for what I say next. But since I was up (and posting this at fifteen minutes to five AM) I was bored I do what I always do when I'm bored. Cut myself. However this was unintentional, as I was just playing with a switchblade razor my grandpa leaves right next to the computer. How was it unintentional? 'Cuz I know better than to cut on somewhere where it can be seen, and my right middle finger can be seen rather often. So uh, yeah, it was hard to type with a band aid (that I was forced to wear 'cuz I like to watch blood drip).

Sora: You're just a masochist.

Tke: ... you think...?

Sora: Duh.

Tke: oh... I guess I am... Well, uh, please watch the music video and review my story! I listen to this song almost every other song, so please don't say anything bad about it or the music video!

REVIEWS MAKE AUTHORESS HAPPY AND JUST ALERTS OR FAVS MAKE THE HATE MAIL COME!!

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