A little over a year ago, my Vexen muse turned up while I was sitting in a Starbucks, in the wee hours of the morning, writing a huge paper on French liturgical tapestry. I'm not entirely sure where he came from, or why, but I'm glad that he's here to stay. I wouldn't trade him for anything.
He's still as distracting these days as he was that first night, when I found myself scribbling fanfic instead of writing about big woven pictures. I doubt that I'll ever finish that fic, because I'm just not sure how to fill in the pieces and it was frankly pretty bad, but here's an unedited snippet in honour of my indoctrination into the cult of the ice bitch. It's XemVex, and is still kind of in my head under the title of Simple Solutions:
‘Well, have you tried sex?’
The second the words were out of his mouth, Vexen’s black-gloved hand was clapped over it. It was a subject that he and the former Apprentices, excluding the Superior of course, often commented on. When they had become Nobodies, robbed of all but the hollow memories of emotion and what it had been like to be human, sex had assumed a new importance. Physical sensation was what remained to them, and even those who had abstained during their lifetimes sought partners in their non-existence.
All, that was, except for one. Either the Superior had retained his Other’s apparent disinterest with sex or, and in Vexen’s mind this seemed more likely, he had balls of Adamantine. Xehanort had never shown any interest in intercourse or intimate touches of any kind. Even had been almost as cold, in practise if not desire, but in a twist of delicious irony the Chilly Academic had all the sexual warmth that his Other had lacked. Xigbar had been the recipient of Vexen’s physical affections more often than the others, but even Xaldin and Lexaeus had not found themselves wanting.
The first thing that they had decided when Xigbar had brought the topic up, and it was one of the few things that Academic and Freeshooter had ever agreed upon, was that Xemnas would never hear about the conversations. And now Vexen, almost able to convince himself that he really could feel blind panic, had all but told the Superior to his face.
If Xemnas didn’t kill him, then Number II certainly would.
Happy birthday, Vexy-babe! Keep on shining, you crazy diamond. (Or would that be special snowflake?)
Happy Birthday, Vexen! 
Love
Furious
Distressed
