Marly's Angels
Zexion is keeping a secret. Unfortunately, Marluxia and Larxene are aware of it--and use it to manipulate Zexion to serve their own ends.
Rating: M
Pairings: Marluxion, Marxene, LarxZex, AkuZeku, Xehanort/Ienzo
Warnings: Gender bending, abuse, discipline/spanking, explicit scenes, master/slave relationships, straight!Marluxia, menages a troi, length, het, femslash, oodles of sexism. Seriously, if you're easily offended, do not under any circumstances read this.
Wow, I can't believe there's another chapter of this! I wrote the first part months ago, but I lost steam until tonight, when I decided to beat my writer's block by dabbling in writing a line or two. Before I knew it, I'd finished the chapter.
There is next to no really offensive stuff in this chapter, as there was in the last. Unless you count Straight!Axel as offensive. Whoops, better put that in the warnings. This is mostly a character and relationship development chapter, and it's somewhat shorter than the previous.
The song is "Masquerade!" from Phantom of the Opera.
2. Paper Faces on Parade
Masquerade! Paper faces on parade...
Masquerade! Hide your face so the world will never find you!
Masquerade! Every face a different shade...
Masquerade! Look around--there's another mask behind you!
The day dawned as it usually did over Castle Oblivion, gray and dreary and promising fitful rains. Not good conditions under which plants could grow, Marluxia thought somewhat morosely.
Which made his powers a good thing. He was quite certain the only reason his flowers grew at all in the dreary castle was because of his natural affinity for green growing things--his attribute as a Nobody. Anyone else who tried to raise plants in the cold gray air of Castle Oblivion would end up with nothing more than a few withered stalks--if they were lucky. Hence why Marluxia was able to maintain the top floor, the Penthouse, the way he liked it, lush with flowers, vines, and pleasure gardens. Even then, it was rather more taxing work than he was used to. The plants didn't naturally follow in his wake; he had to coax them into growing with constant soft words, touches, water, and fertilizer. It was worth it, of course, but it irritated him nonetheless.
Sometimes, sitting in the middle of his favorite pleasure garden, eyes closed, inhaling the scent of sweet flowers and the rich heavy presence of earth, he could almost forget. Forget that he was a being without a heart, living in a castle populated only by other empty shells. He was Prince Lumaria again, the suntanned and careless young man lounging in a velvet divan in one of his hundreds of gardens, surrounded by the beautiful young women who vied to dote on him the most lovingly, stroking his skin and feeding him fresh summer berries...
How he missed those days...the power he'd had. Power. He had never craved anything more, never would. He needed it--dominion over everything. The earth, and the plants that sprung forth from the earth. His loyal, kowtowing subjects. And his women...always women. The princes of his kingdom had historically been womanizers; his own father had maintained a harem of over fifty women from across the kingdom.
Prince Lumaria had expanded that number to one hundred, and even then he felt he could never be satisfied. He took a different combination of young beauties every day--his father had been very particular about his type, and only admitted voluptuous blondes into his harem, but Lumaria took pride in having more varied tastes and sought women of every kind. They were all young and gorgeous, of course, but he enjoyed both slim nymphs and the magnificently curvaceous women his father had. There were blondes, brunettes, redheads, women with hair in every color of the rainbow and skin tones ranging from ebony dark to pale as snow. They wore an assortment of scanty clothing that revealed of all of the lovely flawless skin he wanted to see, and always there was at least one by his side at all times.
They were his, his by right. He'd earned them. They were his conquests.
Now, well...how he'd fallen. He had lost them all, his lovely young conquests (none of their names he could remember, but that didn't surprise him since he hadn't known their names back then either)--and everything else. When his world had been drowned in darkness and the shadowy creatures began attacking, it had all fallen apart around him. His crown, his land, his gardens, his subjects, his women. And then his self.
Prince Lumaria was long gone, replaced by Marluxia, the Graceful Assassin. And he wouldn't have it any other way.
After all, he had power again now. It had taken some time, yes, and his power was nowhere near that which he'd once possessed--he was a lord, not a prince. But he still maintained power, and he knew he would only gain so much more. Prince Lumaria had been prince of practically--nothing. If the silly prince heard those words, he would no doubt be gravely offended; after all, his kingdom was only the grandest and most powerful in all the lands! But now that Marluxia was part of an organization of men and women who could travel between the worlds and drown them in darkness with the snap of a finger, he saw that all he'd owned was just a sliver of land in a single world. Barely anything.
Once he had the Organization in his control, why, every world would be his.
And hell, he even had his harem back, in a way. Well...two girls were only a fraction of one hundred, but Marluxia found he didn't mind. He almost liked this much better than the sprawling harem Lumaria had maintained; that had given him variety, yes, but it had given him anonymity as well. And detachment. The women who came and went never had distinct identities--they might as well have each been the same. Interchangeable.
But Larxene and Zexion...well, one would be foolish to mistake one of them for the other. Marluxia smiled as he sat up in his vast canopy bed in the master bedroom of the Penthouse, surveying the young women who lay flanking him, both fast asleep. Larxene lay to his right, as befitting of his right-hand woman and most trusted accomplice. She was a messy sleeper, lying on her stomach with her arms and legs spread out every which way; it was endearing, although it annoyed Marluxia when she thrashed around in her sleep and tried stealing the blankets from him. But she was his Larxene and he happily tolerated plenty from her.
Not enough to keep him from punishing her at times; the reason that Larxene was lying on her stomach, Marluxia suspected, was probably because she didn't want to aggravate the belt lashes running from her lower back to her thighs. It certainly wasn't the hardest beating he had ever given her, just a reminder for her to stop being so impertinent. Marluxia could handle a certain amount of impertinence from her, though; it was part of what made Larxene Larxene and he wouldn't have her any other way.
Her title certainly fit her well, Marluxia thought as he ran a hand through her blonde locks. In build, she was one of the slender nymphs who Prince Lumaria had so enjoyed. He had the feeling that she was somewhat insecure about her flat-chested, narrow-hipped, and frankly childish build, but Marluxia had to say he enjoyed it. How small and delicate she was, yet how at the same time she was one of the most mature people he knew--especially in bed. Oh, Larxene could be a very dirty little girl indeed in bed. He liked the combination of fiery personality and underdeveloped body; it was a nicely shocking juxtaposition.
Strange, how Marluxia could come to like a girl for her personality. Prince Lumaria hadn't known a single thing about the characters of most of his harem girls, and he didn't care; they were just there to pleasure him, no questions asked. But with Larxene...Marluxia couldn't help but develop a deeper, more intimate relationship with her. Much of that was born from their constant close proximity; when he had only one girl to lavish his attention on, instead of a hundred, naturally he would have to get to know her. And another part of that came from sheer compatibility.
He patted Larxene's forehead one last time, smiling as her delicate features twisted into a perturbed little frown. Then he turned to his left, where Zexion lay curled up on her side.
Ah. Zexion. He could say with most certainty and assurance that he didn't have a fraction of what he had with Larxene with her. Nor would he want to. Larxene was his first and best, always would be--Zexion he kept around mostly out of convenience. As well as to keep her from reporting his and Larxene's plots to the Superior. He would have done the same had she actually been a boy; keep your friends close and your enemies closer, they say. The last thing he needed was for a little sneak to be up and about Castle Oblivion. Keeping her by his side controlled her.
Yes, he would have done all that if Zexion was a boy--but he would never have been able to go as far as he did now. A male Zexion he would retain as a bookkeeper and a servant, which would suitably humiliate the haughty brat, but discovering that Zexion was a girl opened up hundreds of new possibilities for him. Now, he didn't just have to humiliate her--he could break her.
She slept much more peacefully than Larxene did, with her knees drawn up to her chest and her face resting in the crook of her arm. Half her face was covered by that awful comb-over, but it didn't matter because he could perfectly picture her sharp and elegant features in his mind's eye. Even as a boy he'd thought she was more attractive than average, in a cold and unapproachable way, not like Larxene's chidish delicacy. It was a sort of attractiveness that Marluxia liked to see break, because it was only a veneer. And he'd broken it quite well earlier that night, though granted he had beaten Zexion much harder than that before. He wasn't one to overdo a punishment; he had seen to it that Zexion learn humility, nothing more and nothing less.
When he'd first discovered her gender, he was shocked not just because the supposedly asexual little boy Zexion was a girl, but because she was quite the feminine girl as well. If you counted femininity as curves, of course. She went through a good deal of effort to hide her body every day, which Marluxia thought a bit of a shame since it was a lovely body. There was no hiding here, of course. He smiled as he surveyed her; even curled up in her sleep as she was, he could still perfectly see the round curves of her breasts and the jut of her hips. She definitely wasn't the most voluptuous woman he'd ever known, but unlike Larxene was the sort of girl who could actually appear on the cover of a swimsuit magazine.
A pity how much she hated and feared her femininity. He would be the one to constantly, and forcibly, remind her of it.
Life was good, Marluxia thought as he gazed at the ceiling of the bedroom, which was covered with a network of spreading vines which bore a different sort of fruit or flower every day. This morning, bundles of round fat green grapes were dangling from the vines, swaying gently in a night breeze that only traveled through the Penthouse. He had power. He had his own chambers, his own dominion. He had his plants.
And he had two beautiful women by his side, to serve his every need and desire.
It couldn't get much better than this. Well, actually it could--but that was why he was plotting to overthrow Xemnas in the first place.
Smiling in satisfaction, Marluxia lay back down on the feather-light pillow, his arms folded beneath his head. Today would be a new day. A good day.
Zexion didn't know whether to be annoyed or relieved when she awoke and saw that no one was on the bed beside her, though the sheets were marvelously rumpled. Annoyed, because it meant that she'd been sleeping for too long if the other two were awake before her. But relieved, because it meant that she could have some alone time this morning, at least for a little bit.
Nice as it would be to just lay in bed all day, she had things to do. The other members all knew that she spent the nights in the Penthouse, which was the source of endless ribbing from them (especially that horrid Axel...), but it would look suspicious if she spent all day there. And besides, did she really want to spend that much time in Marluxia's lair?
Much to her relief, she saw as she maneuvered off the bed (somewhat awkwardly, to avoid aggravating the weals and bruises from last night's punishment) that someone had folded up an Organization uniform on the chair beside the bed. She forced down a tiny sob as she seized the smooth leather and unfolded the coat--it was just such a relief to have the coat back again. To be able to wear something that actually covered her body, something befitting of her status as the Cloaked Schemer, not Marluxia's pet.
In addition to the uniform,, Marluxia had left a length of linen bandages and a towel to disguise her figure. For a while, every morning she would have to hunt for supplies, but eventually Marluxia caught on and started folding the materials she needed along with her uniform. It was one of the few things he'd done that she was genuinely grateful for.
She slid into the pants first, hissing as the material made contact with her sore skin. Nonetheless, she had to admit some level of relief at being able to wear pants again, especially after spending all evening in that horrible maid uniform. It was pathetic, of course, and she knew Marluxia was just manipulating her. Giving her back a tiny portion of her mask, her strength, her masculinity. Giving it to her so she was forced to be grateful to him.
You wish, she thought vehemently as she wrapped the towel around her waist, to deemphasize her hourglass figure. She could never flatten out her figure quite enough and as such received plenty of taunts to the effect of being awfully curvy for a boy, but at least there was Axel walking around with his childbearing hips, so she had a bit of plausible deniability.
The bandages were next. This was always the part she both anticipated and dreaded the most. Anticipated, because in her eyes it was the most important part of the masquerade--with her chest bound and under control, she wasn't nearly as conscious of her weakness, her femininity, as she was when she spent every night in the Penthouse baring her body for Marluxia's pleasure. But dreaded because it was fucking painful. It was times like these that she wished she had Larxene's small breasts--she could probably get away with only one layer of bandaging, or hell, even a tight sports bra, to flatten her chest effectively. Binding her own heavy breasts was always more of a struggle, and used up quite an annoying amount of bandaging. It was times like these that she was grateful for the looseness of the Organization coat, because there was no way she could get her chest as washboard flat as an actual man's. Not as long as she valued her ability to breathe, anyhow.
She winced as she wound the last layer of bandaging, pulling it tight as she could without cracking her ribs or asphyxiating herself. Already, the tightness was growing uncomfortable and her breathing was coming in much shorter gasps. Most of the others were of the opinion that Zexion was asthmatic and that was why "he" was so pathetically bad at physical activity, but Zexion was certain that if she didn't have to bind her chest she would at least be able to match, say, Vexen or Demyx.
The coat went on, and then the boots and gloves. Fully dressed now, as the proper Organization member she truly was, she strode across the room towards one of the full-length mirrors lining the wall (that damnable narcissist Marluxia, having so many mirrors...). A solemn boy with a mop of messy hair gazed back at her. His hips jutted out a little bit more than was normal for a boy, but his chest was perfectly flat and his sharp features were suitably androgynous.
Zexion sighed deeply in relief, running a hand through her hair in a pitiful attempt to straighten it. It was good. The masquerade would hold, as it always had.
A portal opened behind her. Zexion, to her shame, gasped aloud and staggered on the spot, almost falling against the mirror. Thankfully, she caught her balance and regained her composure just as Marluxia came striding out of the dark corridor.
"Good morning, Zexion," he said. "I see you're all suited up..."
Zexion would have dearly liked to spit in his face and snarl that no, she wasn't going to play by his silly games during the daytime, but instead arranged her face in a flatly neutral expression and said, "Yes, sir."
"Good girl. Or should I say, good boy...? Anyhow, remember to report back here in the night."
"I never forget, sir."
"Of course," Marluxia said with an ironic chuckle. He walked closer, closing the distance between the two of them; panic welled in Zexion's stomach. What did he want with her? He couldn't possibly do anything this early in the morning, it would be a horrible hassle to rearrange her bandages--
"It always astounds me, you know, Zexion," he said, placing a hand under her chin and forcing her face up so they were eye-to-eye. His expression was, per usual, unreadable. "To think that such a lovely girl is hiding in the body of this anemic little boy."
"M-Mar--Superior," Zexion said, barely daring to breathe.
Marluxia laughed again, without any humor. Thankfully, he released her face and strode away from her, rubbing his chin as if deep in thought. "It's strange, isn't it, Zexion? You really do make a good effort at hiding your true sex. If we hadn't fought that day, I would never have found out. Even looking at you now, I find it hard to believe that there really is a beautiful girl beneath that coat."
Zexion wondered what the point of this line of inquiry was. He'd never really talked about the masquerade with her before, and most of her thought he didn't want to. What Marluxia wanted was a woman who could be humiliated and manipulated; he would prefer pretending that she didn't even disguise herself as a boy in the first place.
"This masquerade is where your confidence comes from, of course," Marluxia went on. "It's a dangerous thing, Zexion. You've tasted the power and freedom that comes from being a man and that is all you want now. That's why I discipline you so strictly, Zexion--it's so you learn your place. As a woman."
Zexion spoke before she could stop herself; mumbling to the ground, she said, "I--I believe that a woman can be just as capable as a man."
She expected him to be angry, to smack her or worse, but all Marluxia did was snicker. "So says the crossdresser."
Zexion flushed furiously, knowing that he had a point. Not that she would ever admit it in the first place. Once again Xehanort's words whispered in her ears; once again she resolutely blocked them out.
All lies. Everything Xehanort had said was a lie. Or, if not a lie, a broken promise.
"Go on ahead, Zexion. I'm not stopping you," Marluxia said, snapping her out of her reverie. "Do your job well. And in the evening, well...you know where I expect you."
"Yes, sir," Zexion said. Then, spurred on by the memory of last night's punishment, she added, "I--I'll be good, Superior. You won't have to punish me tonight."
"Oh, Zexion," sighed Marluxia, his voice laden with affection--an entirely false affection. "I know you will. Your inner nature is very sweet; all we have to do is strip away the masquerade completely, don't we?"
"Yes, sir," Zexion mumbled, dipping her head in the suggestion of a bow.
"Well, I'll leave you to your business," Marluxia said. "You can go now."
"Thank you, sir," Zexion said, and found that she actually meant it. Any excuse to get out of Marluxia's sight was a good one in her book.
She opened a portal in front of her and stepped through it rather too quickly.
Since he was the Lord of Castle Oblivion, Marluxia made it his business to make daily sweeps of the castle's white halls, just to see if everything was running smoothly. Not that a castle staffed with six people of such wildly differing personalities could ever "run smoothly" in the first place, but at the very least he made sure it was running as efficiently as it could. Which meant that a day went by without anyone killing or seriously injuring another.
Usually his sweeps didn't get him through the whole castle because someone would inevitably stop him midway and force him to spend the rest of the day working on fixing some horibly pressing problem with them. Some days it was Vexen, whining about how the septic system was broken or how the lights in his lab were flickering on and off, so Marluxia would have to spend all day playing Joe the Plumber and/or Electrician. Other days it was Axel, setting the castle gardens on fire getting into fights with Larxene. Just last week Marluxia had, in a fit of vengeance, strung Axel upside down from the highest tower in the castle and left him there all day. Unfortunately, that day number XIII and number IX had paid a visit to the castle, and they begged and whined and wheedled all day long until Marluxia grew sick of them and took Axel down just to shut them up.
In a way, being Lord of Castle Oblivion was less like being a ruler and more like being father to a bunch of bratty children.
He heard voices as he passed by a half-ajar door in the hallway. Frowning (and hoping it wasn't Larxene and Axel getting into a fight again), he peered through the doorway--and saw Axel and Zexion. Well. Those two he didn't see together often--Zexion seemed to prefer the company of the other senior members, which was understandable. In fact, Marluxia had been of the opinion that Zexion and Axel had some bad blood between them, but that assumption was being put to the test right now because Zexion and Axel were behaving friendlily enough. They sat opposite each other at a square white table, and were intently playing a game of chess.
"Check," Zexion said as she moved her piece.
"Awww, dammit," Axel groaned, clutching his hair as he swept his eyes over the board. "Dammit, dammit, dammit. I'm not going to lose this time, got it memorized?"
"Say what you like," Zexion said. "You've only got two pieces left."
"Well, I'm still not going to lose!"
"Make your move already."
"Shut up! This isn't speed chess, got it memorized?"
"Speed chess. You know, it's been a while since I last played some good speed chess...would you feel up to timing our next game?"
"In your dreams!"
"It's your fault, you know," Zexion said calmly. "You insist on playing chess when you're horrible at all. If you want a slightly fairer game, why not play Stratego?"
"Like hell. The reason I stopped playing Stratego with you in the first place is because you always win," Axel grumbled.
"And you always lose even worse when you play chess."
"Why not do battleship next, then?" Axel suggested, hopefully. "Or maybe poker?"
"I play strategy games, Axel, not games of chance. Ask Luxord if you want to play poker."
"Ohh, I see how it is, you're not man enough to face me--"
"I'm playing my strengths, Axel. I have terrible luck but I do believe, if I do say so myself, that I am an excellent strategian. You ought to play by your own strengths as well. Would you like to make your move already?"
"Aww, dammit," Axel groaned.
Marluxia watched with a little interest and even amusement. He realized that he didn't get to see much of Zexion interacting with other Organization members, aside from him and Larxene, of course. He knew that Zexion liked hanging around Lexaeus and Vexen, and that Xemnas considered her one of his second-in-commands, along with Saix (in fact, he had the feeling that Xemnas had sent Zexion to Castle Oblivion precisely so she could keep an eye on Marluxia--wonderful how that'd turned out), but otherwise had no idea how she behaved around others, especially the neophytes. He had heard about one particular incident before he'd joined the Organization, in which it seemed an irritated Zexion had locked Demyx into the cellar of The Castle That Never Was for a week. Marluxia was of the personal opinion that that week so happened to coincide with her time of month.
Aside from locking neophytes into cellars, though, Marluxia hadn't seen much of Zexion's interactions with her fellows (and supposed "underlings")--the real Zexion, essentially. Now, it seemed, he was getting to see Zexion outside of the twin roles she was forced to play--Xemnas' lapdog, and Marluxia's slave.
"Make your move, VIII. I'm getting impatient."
"Okay, okay! Here!" Axel moved his remaining pawn, randomly.
"Checkmate," Zexion said, sounding almost bored. She flicked Axel's king with her index finger and thumb, and it toppled over and lay on the board looking quite forlorn.
"Damn, damn, damn," Axel grumbled, sweeping his eyes over the board. "Shit! Not again!"
"Would you like another game, Axel?" Zexion said, beginning to set up the board.
"Hell no!" Axel yelled, leaping to his feet as if his seat had suddenly caught on fire. Zexion snickered aloud--and then turned to face the door.
"You know, XI," she said, a haughty smirk dancing at the corners of her lips, "instead of skulking around trying to spy on us, you can join us if you'd like."
"Huh? What? Marluxia?" Axel said. "Wait, he's spying on us?"
"I could detect his scent anywhere," Zexion said dryly.
"What a fucking creep!" Axel cried.
"Now, now, Axel," Marluxia said, deciding now was the time for a dramatic entrance, "is that any way to speak of your Superior?"
Much to his satisfaction, when he spoke in that tone, low and silky and filled with dangerous intent, he saw Zexion shiver slightly and turn a few shades paler than her already unhealthy anemic coloring. Good. She was still afraid of him. As she ought to be.
He would punish her for her impertinence later that night, that much was certain.
Too bad he couldn't say the same for Axel. "Tch, you aren't my superior," Axel growled, leaning against the chess table and glaring defiantly at Marluxia.
"Would you like to repeat that incident from last week, Axel?" Marluxia said.
"You wouldn't have the cojones to do it again," Axel said, a smirk slicing his face in two. "Seeing as you stopped the instant Demyx told you to stop. How pathetic are you?"
"Axel, don't--" Zexion began, but then her expression changed, became darker and unreadable. Marluxia frowned. He had only seen that expression on her face once, on one of his earliest missions with her (back when he'd thought she was a boy), when she had torn apart a mob of Heartless with magic because they had defiled a library. For a breathless second he could believe that she really was the Cloaked Schemer, as dangerous and mysterious as her reputation.
The expression vanished, to be replaced by a smirk as deranged as Axel's. "Don't be so hard on the neophyte, now, Axel. He tries his best."
"Ha, ya think? That's right." Axel winked at Marluxia, fanning the flames of the fury that had begun gathering in the pit of Marluxia's stomach. "What a weakling. I wonder what kind of pathetic world he comes from? You understand, don't you, Zexion? We from Radiant Garden are just...different."
"Yes." Zexion flushed slightly pink from pleasure, which only wound Marluxia's irritation to a higher pitch. "We are...different. Better."
Damn you, you little bitch, Marluxia thought. Just wait until Axel's not around and we'll see how mouthy you are then.
He didn't say any of this aloud. If the two of them wanted to play this inane game, he'd indulge them. Later, he would get back at them--both of them--so much more sweetly. Smiling at the two of them, he said, "Think that if you must, but there must be a reason that the Superior placed me in charge of Castle Oblivion."
"He just wanted to get you out of his face 'cause you annoy the snot out of him, I bet," Axel said.
"Who knows or understands the Superior's reasons?" Zexion said. "What he says, we must follow. All of us. You are bound as much as we are, Marluxia."
Say that as much as you want, bitch. He's never come for you, has he?
That's the way you are. Always hiding behind a man. If not the Superior, then Axel. But I will show you. I will take both of them from you and you will have no one but me. Your true Superior.
Marluxia put on his pleasant a face as possible, though he never seized boring into Zexion's skull with the force of his glare. She was avoiding meeting his eyes. Perhaps, unlike Axel, aware that there would be consequences for such defiance and grave ones to boot. But she had joined in, anyhow, pushed forward by the moment. Silly creature.
"I believe that everything would run so much more smoothly in this castle if we could all behave more respectfully to one another, don't you agree? Axel, Zexion?"
Something seemed to snap inside Zexion as Marluxia spoke. A shudder convulsed down her spine and then, a snarl twisting her face, she dove towards Marluxia, much faster than he thought she could move. Her fingers, icy and startlingly strong, closed around his throat and he felt himself stumbling, gasping, unable to force down breath.
"Yeah! Go! Kick his ass, Zexion!" Axel enthused. "You're nothing, got it fucking memorized, Marly?"
Zexion had only managed to overcome Marluxia by the element of surprise, though. Roaring in rage, he swung a fist and caught her in the stomach. She flew backwards, gasping, and slammed against the table, upsetting the chess board and the pieces, which rolled to the floor with a series of clatters. She slumped against the table, winded, breathing hard, but never removing her glare from Marluxia's face.
Yet beneath her burning eyes there was something else...a flicker of fear. Marluxia smirked, satisfied. Oh, how she would pay for this tonight.
"My dear Zexion," he said. "How long, I wonder, can this masquerade last? You are nothing without your illusions."
He turned around and departed, not sparing another look on his two defiant subjects. They would pay, he was sure of that. Zexion especially. Tonight, she would suffer for her sins.
"I hate him," Zexion hissed when Marluxia left, driving her fist into the floor. It hurt, but she'd never admit it. "I hate him I hate him I fucking hate him--I want to kill him, I want to--"
"Zexion, hey, c'mon, Zexion, calm down," Axel said, kneeling by her side. He placed a tentative hand on her shoulder--tentative, because he knew how much she liked being touched. Which wasn't much. Sure enough, by pure reflex alone, she knocked his hand away.
She didn't want to but it happened--during all her years masquerading as a man, she had learned to reject even the slightest touch. Every touch, every contact, might come closer to revealing her secret. As she had learned that disastrous night when Marluxia and Larxene had first enslaved her.
But Axel's hand was so...warm. And his face was so close, too. He was kneeling in front of her, a perturbed frown creasing his brow, and it struck her in that instant how beautiful he was. Surely she was deluded; she had banged her head against the edge of the table. Or maybe not. Axel, with his narrow face and foxy features, wasn't handsome in the classical sense, but there was such life and vibrancy dancing in his green eyes that it made something deep inside her, something horrible, hurt like an unhealed bruise. He was much too alive to be a Nobody.
"You okay?" Axel said.
"Of course I'm not okay," Zexion seethed. "I'm going to find Marluxia, and I'm going to kill him in his sleep."
"Not if I don't get him first," Axel said. "C'mon, buddy, can you stand?"
"Yes," Zexion said. "Don't touch me."
"Ahh, no good deed goes unpunished," Axel said, shrugging.
"What, you want to touch me?" Zexion said, lurching to her feet. She had to cling to the edge of the table for support, but obstinately told herself that this pain was nothing compared to the pain she'd been in when the night was done. The only thing she was assured of was that her virginity would remain intact, but that was of no comfort. Marluxia had a thousand other, more creative, ways to torture.
"Kind of," Axel said. "Not like that, though. I don't like guys."
"What, really?" Zexion said, a strange feeling rising inside her chest. She had no idea what it was. "What about you and XIII? You can't deny that the two of you don't seem very...well..."
"Are you kidding?" Axel laughed. "Hell, does it really come across that way? I mean, Xiggy's going around saying that we're the cutest couple in the Organization...he's one to talk, him and Demyx and all..."
"I really thought you had something between you," Zexion said.
She recognized the emotion now--hope. Only, it wasn't an emotion, because of course she couldn't feel emotion. Even a weak, hormonal female like her. Her lack of heart trumped everything else. Hope...why? Because she thought she had a chance with Axel now? What utter nonsense. Axel didn't know she was a girl and there was no way she was going to risk revealing it to him. And why did she want Axel? Incorrigible number VIII? If she wanted a man to protect her she ought to pick someone better, someone stronger, like Lexaeus...
"Nope," Axel said. "Believe it or not, two guys can be really close friends without, y'know, wanting to fuck each other."
Zexion winced. Axel was as crude as ever.
"I can believe that," she said. "It's strange, though. You don't seem to show much interest in girls."
They were walking away from the room, heading nowhere in particular. There was nowhere they wanted to go inside the putrid white walls of Castle Oblivion, and both knew that. Axel sighed. "Like there're any girls around to show interest in."
"There's XII."
"Hahahaha, yeah. That harridan? That'll be the day," Axel said. "Plus, she's barely got any boobs at all."
Zexion suppressed another leap of giddy hope. What the hell was wrong with her? Marluxia must have banged her head around badly when he'd thrown her against the table. Trying to feign casual indifference, she said, "Hmm, so you like women with...assets."
Axel guffawed and, much to Zexion's indignation (yet pleasant surprise at the same time--damn this...this concussion!), patted her on the head. "You're really cute, Zexion. I mean, not like that. But y'know, if I had a little brother, I wouldn't mind if he was anything like you."
Zexion turned away so Axel wouldn't have to see her blush. Little brother... Imagine that.
"Yeah, I like boobs, all right," Axel said. "Curves in general. You don't see much of that these days, though. All these blonde toothpicks running around. Even porn stars look like that."
If Zexion had been eating something she'd have choked. "P-porn, really...'
"What's a guy to do? When you're surounding by gay guys and Larxene, how do you get off?" Axel said, gesturing dramatically at the air. And flamboyantly, too. No wonder she had thought he was gay.
"I'm not gay," she said without thinking.
"Really?" Axel blinked owlishly at her. "Then what is your type, Zex? 'Cause, no offense, you sure come across as completely asexual to me. Maybe a little gay. Again, no offfense, got it memorized?"
Zexion flushed scarlet, hating herself for blushing like a schoolgirl yet unable to stop herself. What was her type...? She really hadn't thought about that. Mostly, she had been concerned with just surviving. Xehanort...but Xehanort was a liar and dead anyhow. Marluxia...Marluxia, ha. She hated him more than anything. Lexaeus...no, Lexaeus was kind but she could never view him that way. Vexen...Vexen had practically raised her (or rather, Even had practically raised Ienzo).
Axel...
Not Axel. What had he ever done for her? It was too dangerous, anyway. Marluxia hated the both of them. If he found out about anything between them, he would make them both suffer and then... And anyway, Axel thought she was a boy, and she'd rather things stayed that way.
"I don't really know," she mumbled.
"It's okay," Axel said, with another pat to her head. "Y'see, Zex, there's this marvelous thing called puberty..."
Yes, I know what puberty is. It's running screaming to Xehanort when you're eight years old and bleeding from between your legs and you think you're dying.
"I'm sure you'll find your dream girl in no time! Well, I've been looking for years," Axel said, more morosely, "and I haven't found any girl who fits the bill. I don't like stick-thin blonde bimbos. If anything, I think I'd like a girl who I could play Stratego and chess with. And has boobs, that'd be nice too."
Zexion was suddenly stricken with a horrid urge to pull down her zipper and tear open her bandages. Her sense of self-control, and self-preservation, managed to keep her in check, but she felt horribly embarrassed about it. What the hell was she thinking? Axel? Impossible. Utterly impossible.
But it wouldn't hurt to form some kind of alliance with him, would it...? She couldn't trust Vexen and Lexaeus to resist Marluxia in any tangible way. Vexen might take to her cause, but he would only make things worse with his incoherent shriekings which Marluxia simply plugged out, anyway. The other Organization members visited too infrequently to be of any use. Axel was all that was left. He was around her age, reasonably intelligent, hated Marluxia but could state his discontent in more forward ways than whining Vexen could, and as a plus she and him already had a bit of a working relationship, what with all the games they played together. If they could turn it into something more...
Maybe she could do more than survive Marluxia. Maybe she could even defeat him.
Silly, lovestruck little girl, a voice whispered in her head--it took her a second to identify it as Xehanort's. With a pang she remembered Ienzo offering a similar proposal to Xehanort, all in the hopes that it would lead to romance. It did. Ienzo's biggest mistake.
"You'll find yours if you look hard enough. If you look hard enough for anything, you'll find it. Least, that's what I think," Axel said, shrugging archly. "Say, Zexion...I know you hang out with Marly during the nights. But I'm wondering why; I mean, you seem to hate him as much as I do."
"Not just 'seem to,'" Zexion said. "I do."
"Geez, then why do you seek his company?"
"I don't do it deliberately," Zexion said without thinking. "He forces me to."
"What? Why would he do that?" Axel said, goggling at her. "I mean, he didn't sound like he liked you much, earlier today, and I really don't think you two would have anything in common."
"We discuss..." Zexion flailed at empty air for a suitable lie. "Literature. He likes classics. So he makes me discuss them with him."
"Ohh, that's dreary." Axel whistled. "And he does this every night?"
"Unfortunately. That harridan of his," Zexion added, struck by sudden inspiration, "always joins us and all she does is complain all evening."
"Wow, it must suck to be you," Axel said, not without sympathy.
You have no idea.
"Hey!" Axel said, snapping his fingers, like he did whenever he was struck by inspiration. "I've got an idea!"
"Hmm?" Zexion surveyed him through half-closed eyes. Usually Axel's ideas led him into deep trouble, such as that brilliant plan for burning down all of Marluxia's gardens. Whenever he sounded so excited by a plan, it was sure to be awful.
Sure enough, Axel did not disappoint. "How 'bout I come with you this night, got it memorized? Then you'll have at least someone else to stick it out with you. Hell, I could even make up books to distract the pink fruit, how's that sound?"
Zexion choked, not just from Axel's new epithet for Marluxia (which was brilliant; she wondered why she'd never thought of it), but from, well...the idea of him finding out. That she was Marluxia's sex slave. If she ever wanted to reveal her secret to him, she planned on doing it in a much more dignified way.
Reveal her secret? No, never. That was nonsense. She couldn't seriously be considering telling him? Why? Because his supposed ideal girl vaguely meshed with her own description? That was a weak reason for anything. There was no guarantee that Axel would...well, reciprocate. What was there to reciprocate, anyway? She had long given everything to Xehanort and he had never given it back. She had nothing left to give Axel. If anything, if she really...cared...about him, she would try to keep him as far from her as possible. As far from Marluxia.
But Axel enjoyed trouble too much to avoid teasing Marluxia for long. Zexion sighed and ran a hand through her hair, sick of predicaments.
"No, I don't think that would be wise," she said, in as careful and measured a tone as she could manage.
"What? C'mon, you want some moral support, don't you? And I've been hankering for an excuse to stick it to Marly's face for an extended period of time."
"No! You can't! You absolutely cannot come!" Zexion shouted, backing away from Axel so there was a good distance between them. Staying any longer next to him would only muddle up her thinking more. Would only endanger the two of them more. "Do you hear me? Do you understand? Do you have it fucking memorized?"
She was being hysterical and she didn't much care. Axel could not find out. He must not. He must never know the truth, because if he did...if he did...she didn't even want to think about what would happen then.
"Zexion! Whoa, calm down, kiddo," Axel said, holding up his hands. "All right, all right, I won't come. I have got it fucking memorized. All right?"
"Good. Now leave me alone if you know what's good for you, neophyte," Zexion snarled, and turned around and opened a portal. She stepped through it, feeling the comfortable cold snatch of the darkness, before it closed behind her, preventing Axel from following.
The portal led straight to Marluxia's room. There was no harm in reporting earlier tonight--perhaps he might even lessen her punishment if he saw how eager for it she was.
Eager, not really. But if it would protect Axel, it was fine by her.
"Sheesh, what's with that kid? Just when I think I'm starting to get him..." Axel said with a sigh, rubbing his head and staring after where Zexion had vanished. He wished he had Zexion's sense of smell; then he could find the brat anywhere in the castle.
What a weird kid, that Zexion. He was a good kid, Axel knew that much, and devilishly smart, but Axel had long thought of him as unemotional aside from the occasional smirk and smarmy comment when they were playing strategy games. He had never seen Zexion raise his voice to anyone before because Zexion didn't need to--when he spoke, everyone listened. Maybe it was because he was so young yet his voice held such a silky, commanding quality.
But today Zexion had shouted. He'd sworn at Axel and his expression had been--wild. Terrified. Axel had seen that expression many times before, when he (or rather, Lea) and Isa had gone hunting in the woods around Radiant Garden. The fear of prey that knew it was going to get caught, no matter how hard it struggled.
Something was going on here, something much deeper than Zexion being forced to attend Marluxia's literary discussions. Something...dark and dangerous. Something that was hurting Zexion, really hurting him, in the deep and primal place where it mattered.
Axel knew what his response would be. He wasn't about to throw the kid to the wolves, especially not after Zexion had, for the first time ever, opened up to him today. One way or the other, he'd get to the bottom of this. He'd find out just what was going on with Zexion and Marluxia.
Awww, we gots a romance in the works! Maybe this is finally my chance to write a healthy AkuZeku! Of course, it's bizarre AU gender-bent straight AkuZeku, but still.
Again, I plug my 100+ chapter epic, Broken Memory. Time traveling. Dimension traveling. Zombies. Airships. Dragons. A trinity of villains. A trinity of heroes. Loads and Loads of Characters. Straight pairings. Slash pairings. Femslash pairings. Masters and slaves. Sci fi, fantasy, everything in between. A main character who's married and in his thirties. And bisexual. Lots of twists and mind screws and revelations. If any of that interests you, then by all means check out my fictionpress, Bickazer. There's a 12-chapter prelude in the works that covers the main character's backstory, but you don't have to necessarily read it to make sense of the story. I can't advertise this enough.
Be sure to leave a review. Hopefully I'll have freaked out less people with this chapter, though for some odd reason I get the feeling that some people thinking that a straight Axel is more offensive than sexual abuse. What a weird, weird, world we live in. For my part, I'm having a ton of fun with this straight!Axel angle and hell, the entire romance angle. We will get on to more sordid things in the next chapter, if that's what you're reading for.