AntiM-Preg. Squick. Great liberties with Marluxia's physiology.

There was something acutely wrong with this.

"This isn't funny," Marluxia growled, his voice twinkling with poorly suppressed hysteria.

The Academic and Axel smiled at one another.

"It think it's funny," the Flame shrugged once, glanced at Vexen and then shrugged again. The lines of his shoulders brimmed with disgusting amounts of self-satisfaction.

"This isn't funny," Marluxia grit out once more, balling his fists and bristling.

"Medical wonder," Vexen noted drolly as he reclined smugly against his operating table. Marluxia eyed the metal table in disgust. His phyllon sensibilities protested the idea of science and surgery most violently.

"Not on that thing," Marluxia spat. "You won't get me on that table. You won't touch me." He turned on heel and made to leave.

"It's a little late for that, isn't Mar-ly-poo?" Axel called after him. His voice caught Marluxia like a flytrap. The Assassin halted, pivoted again and attempted to intimidate his subordinate.

He failed.

Axel grinned widely, ambling closer and caressing the lines of Marluxia's stomach.

"We could give you an chemical abortifacient," Vexen offered primly, his gaunt face still pulled into the grim remnants of a derisive smirk.

Marluxia blanched. Chlorophyll masquerading as blood stirred in his veins, hating the idea of untoward chemicals, distrusting the Cheshire smiles Axel and Vexen still had on display.

"No." Marluxia growled, vines climbing fitfully across his cheek, growing in uncontrolled agitation.

"The germination accelerates," Axel laughed, sinking to his knees arrogantly—as if he really believed Marluxia wouldn't kick him—and pressed his ear in open taunt to the taught stretch of Marluxia's bare stomach.

The Assassin's boot met the Flame's solar plexus and that was the end of that.

Vexen watched Axel with unhidden disdain. "You should let us help you, Superior. The child will be worth study."

"There would be no child if you had not deliberately—"

"Deliberately what?" Vexen challenged. Axel laughed breathlessly from his place upon the floor. "Deliberately participated in intercourse with you? It was your demand, Superior. You cannot rightfully blame me simply because I was in the course of a certain experiment on Axel and myself…"

"Whose baby do you think it is?" the redhead cackled wildly, still flat on his back upon the floor, his limbs flailing with petulant mirth.

The vines crawled across the course of Marluxia's face more quickly now, framing his hairline, accenting his eyelids.

"I will have the both of you killed later," Marluxia warned, and then took his leave through a door of coalescing darkness. Vexen and Axel's sharp laughter followed at his heels.

He emerged into his room wherein he began to contemplate.

He could grow a poison to ingest, but the guarantee of his own survival in such a case was questionable. Making a perfect antidote to match, doubly so.

He could send a squadron of vines down into his own innards to strangle the seedling… but then its removal was still a subject of issue.

He looked down at his swollen guts, cursing the foul tricks of his subordinates. There he found a temporary shred of peace in plotting how he would teach them their lessons.

So, there he was pacing and contemplating slitting open his own gizzards to remove the creature currently siphoning off his life force for its perverted conception.

The cravings for sunlight were almost unbearable and…

"This is why you've been hiding from me," Larxene's lilting voice cut through his rage.

She, like Axel and Vexen, was most amused.

Marluxia struck her as soon as she was close enough to reach.

She refrained from retaliating. "Wouldn't wanna hurt the bay-bee," she cited.

So, he hit her again.

She smirked against the stinging mark on her cheek and her eyes glittered dangerously, promising to repay him for the injury. Then she left, still crooning about the youngling who would soon be joining their Organization.

Marluxia was now certain he would have to kill the beast before it grew to fruition.

Three weeks.

In the second week, he'd gone crawling like a dog to Roxas, desperate to leech off the boy's affinity to the Light.

The boy had stared at him for a long time before reaching out and discharging a great deal of delicious energy directly towards Marluxia's maturing bud.

Roxas, thankfully, had not said a word.

So, despite the embarrassment of asking for outside assistance, the issue of feeding the creature was, at last, solved. Foreign ultraviolet skittered through his veins like lightning.

Yet, another week later and the issue of terminating the infant remained.

The fear of chemical means disrupting his delicate chloroplasts was still far too prevalent to even consider Vexen's smirking offer of an abortifacient. What's more, the specifics of the expulsion were dreadfully unclear.

He did not trust Vexen's operating table. Surgery… science… the carefully cultivated pedigree of his body protested wildly, calling for Mother Nature to take her course.

He considered, for one hysterical moment, casting a stop spell on himself, but could not predict the aftereffects.

And so he paced.

His skin buzzing alive with sunlight and his body therefore twitching spasmodically like a cocaine abuser.

The methods to a solution should have been simple, he thought, his mind circling on itself in desperation to remove this hideous plant bulb from inside his body. His stomach swelled more and more every day. The vines, a physical manifestation of the untamed imbalance of his body and mind, continued to crawl their way across his flesh and required daily severing.

It was lucky that his need to eat was not as pressing as it would have been with just any regular human. If that were the case, the child's position in his body would have wreaked ever-greater havoc.


It should have been simple! The thing had to be directly removed… without cutting his flesh… without putting something into his chlorophyll blood stream…

He stopped pacing.

The answer had just struck him most violently.

There was only one individual who could be trusted to this task.

Someone with the accuracy of a surgeon and the means to complete this task without a formal operation.

Xigbar stood before him, his mouth curled wickedly.

"Who's the daddy?"

Marluxia declined answer and instead bowed his head a little lower in abasement to Number II.

Xigbar's incredulous eyebrow rose, dragging dark scars along in its path. He fidgeted uncomfortably for a moment before coming back to the point.

"And what is it you want from me, kid?"

Marluxia smiled stiffly, as if the motion caused him pain. It did. "I would request of the Freeshooter, with his infinite control of space, make use of his talents and precision to reach inside my wretched intestines and pull this malformed creature out of me and then kill it."

Xigbar shifted again, this time to adjust his pants. He licked his lips twice and then grinned wolfishly. "Yeah, sure. Deal, kid."

Marluxia straightened himself up, peeling off the stretched layers of coat and shirt, exposing the corpulent bulge of his stomach.

Xigbar touched him there with slow intimacy for a time, his eyes dark as he felt out the exact shape of the area he would be working with.

Then without warning, his hand plunged inside, the rough covering of his glove abrading Marluxia's soft, fleshy inner organs. The connecting tissues between the Assassin and his ill begotten child snapped with a horrible pain. Marluxia keened like a bitch.

Then it was done.

The Freeshooter held the thing in the palms of his hands. Tuberous roots hung limply all around the horrible malformed little body.

"Looks just like you."

Marluxia could not snarl, as he was crouched upon the floor, clutching his stomach and panting.

Xigbar simply watched his face twisting in pain. He did not kill the sapling immediately and he did not offering Marluxia any aid, he just watched.

After a time and many darkly muttered cure spells, Marluxia found himself back upon his feet staring at his baby.

The once hard shell of its seed had grown soft and translucent around the babe, taking on, instead, the form of a sac. The phenomena of its cycle would indeed have been worthy of a great deal of study… Vexen would sorely regret not getting the chance.

Marluxia cocked his head to the side at the thought. Xigbar was a scientist like all the rest… he might…

"Do you want it," the Assassin wondered, without the affectation of an inquiry.

Xigbar shook his head "no".

So, Marluxia reached out, curving his hands beneath Xigbars' where they cupped the seed. Together they crushed it; soft bits squishing through their fingers, tiny half-formed bones pricking them like needles. It made a disgusting mess.

"Are you too broken up about your dead baby to consider fucking the doctor, Mommy?" Xigbar wondered vaguely as he wiped the last gobbets off his soiled gloves. They were still a bit slick from Marluxia's intestinal fluids.

Marluxia stared at him angrily for a time, while he flicked blood from his own gloves. "Only if you use protection."

Xigbar grinned. "Whodda thought you'd be a prude. Not my fault you're such a flower. Maybe you should try contraceptive."

"You must humor my delicate sensibilities, I've been through a trying ordeal," Marluxia sneered.

"You don't need condoms when you take it up the ass, you girl," Xigbar noted, to which Marluxia huffed once in reply. Number II grinned. "Fine, let's just fuck already."

Happy Miscarriage, better luck next time. ♥

The End

Standard Disclaimers.