Title: Mercy
Rating: M, just to be safe
Pairing: 411, MarVex, whatever you want to call it
Warning: Torture, Bondage, Character Death (Canon)
Word Count: 440
A/N: This is pretty old, and I'm cross-posting it. I had time to stop and think about Marluxia and Vexen's relationship, and the possible aspects of it. Usually, I like a little fluff, just because it's cute, but this is also the likelier way I see these two interacting. Marluxia's sadistic, but Vexen's really just as twisted as he is -- except he's scientifically PRECISE. There's nothing too terribly descriptive, but it's pretty disturbing -- at least, it felt that way to me while I was writing it. XD
Reviews are loved~
Marluxia always seemed to enjoy his little games of 'mercy' with Vexen. It was the equivalent of the old 'Say Uncle' pain-game, except Mercy was so much more fun. It was always a trial to see who would crack first, who would break and beg for mercy. They each had their own means to draw a scream from the other, and they would constantly alternate between them, just to see who could win.
Vexen would subject Marluxia to his experiments, let him run tests and try new theories. Of course, he always saved the most painful ones for Marluxia. The first time Vexen had ever analyzed Marluxia – by means of precise lacerations and other seemingly noninvasive methods – he'd expected Marluxia to scream or cry much sooner than he had. It had taken the man a few hours before he gave up and used their 'safe word'. Vexen would have been impressed if he hadn't actually been annoyed by the fact that his painful tortures hadn't been enough to break Marluxia sooner.
Whenever it was Marluxia's turn, he always took Vexen into his garden. The pink-haired Nobody always acted so sweet and disarming, even when he was inflicting pain on the Chilly Academic. He would coo in that saccharine voice, whisper in Vexen's ear, even as his plants tormented Vexen. More often than not, the words were not as honey-sweet as Marluxia's tone, and there really was only one reason the Graceful Assassin spoke so kindly to Vexen – because he knew it wore the other Nobody down so much faster.
Vexen usually cracked whenever the roses were used. Marluxia often enjoyed wrapping Vexen in the vines, letting the sharp thorns tear almost gently through Vexen's pale skin. It always left the most delightful marks in swirls along the older man's body, and when Marluxia finally had Vexen hanging in resignation, he took the opportunity to lick every single tear left by his favorite flowers.
These little games went on for what could have been years, until Marluxia said no in Oblivion, with that secretive smirk on his lips. Vexen had been huffy and agitated, busying himself with his work and unable to understand Marluxia's sudden change of… well, not-heart.
Vexen still hadn't understood until he was standing in the fake Twilight Town, watching as Axel stepped out of a Corridor. Even before the fire, he had begged and screamed, even before the words were required from him. He was more afraid of fire than of anything else, and Marluxia knew that.
As the darkness slowly enveloped him, Vexen understood. This was why Marluxia said no.
So he could have the final scream.