34. Copy and paste an excerpt you’re particularly fond of.
34. COPY & PASTE AN EXCERPT YOU'RE PARTICULARLY FOND OF
frankly this is kinda rude since you know all of the excerpts i'm fond of???
ok i finally picked one but i had to include your reply as Diavolo for full context
The young dying demon claps his hand over his mouth. If Lucifer ever found out about the things he’s saying… even in death he should have pride, and dignity. He doesn’t, but he should.
“You… you can’t possibly know, or understand what I’m feeling right now. You’re all-powerful, you get everything and anything you want. You just keep watching people die around you and you never feel it.
“No… screw that. You’ve taken so much from me… your condolences mean nothing until you know why I am so. fucking. afraid.”
Xhura practically slams his hand down, palm-open on the table.
“Take it. You owe me this, My Lord.”
Diavolo doesn't enjoy it, exactly. He's doing doing everything he can to prevent further death and suffering!
It's the reason this is the second time he's been willing to sacrifice a version of Xhura… though, maybe that's a hypothetical worth debating later. Because the first one never got a choice.
Would you die so that another version of you could be safe and happy with another version of Lucifer?
But there is too much overlap and risks and memories and—
Diavolo sighs and then nods. "One moment." He raises his hand to cast a sort of shield around the walls of this room, confining all sound and hopefully all magic cast to remain within this perimeter.
He thinks he knows what Xhura is planning. Barbatos would forbid him taking that hand. Even Lucifer would. He owes Xhura more than this.
The Prince will be responsible as well if this causes any ripples out in the universe. Nonetheless, he drains the last of his drink and, with a deep breath, lies his hand down on top of Xhura's.
It’s not a spell, per se. It’s just a feeling. An overwhelming feeling that can’t even begin to be described with weak words like pain and agony and loss and dread.
It’s knowing he didn’t have anyone who loved him in the Human Realm and knowing he wouldn’t have stayed alive long there. It’s knowing he has a family here; brothers and a sister who love him and want him to live.
It’s knowing their pain now that he will inevitably have to die again. For good this time.
It’s feeling all the love, safety, comfort of Lucifer’s embrace and touch and kiss… And it’s knowing he will, some day soon, never have that again. That he will be buried in the Garden where half of his grimoire was and if dying now is anything like all the times he died before… he’ll be aware of every moment of it. Time will mean nothing. Emotions, and family, will mean nothing.
Because the pair of them, Xhura and Diavolo right now, will be trapped beneath the dirt and unable to even whisper so much as an I miss you to the people he was supposed to have forever with.
Xhura finally pulls back, tears in his eyes, wrapping his arms around himself. He stares at Diavolo until the tears fall, yet the accusation in his glare never relents.
“Now take all of that… and realize… I thought I’d never have to feel it again. But I will. That’s what you’re condemning me to, Diavolo. And now you’re doing it knowing exactly what will become of me. Not death, not some kind of cosmic peace and release. Just emptiness, consciousness, and grief.
“I’m not asking for the world, Diavolo. I’m not asking for the realms to move for me. I’m just. asking. for the bare minimum to live. But you… you and the universe have decided that that is too much to ask for. That everything I told myself growing up is true. That I don’t deserve to live. It is too much of a burden. And I want you to live with that. Forever. Because if I have to, so do you.”
Xhura downs his final glass and stands. He stares at the magically locked door. “Please let me out. I only have so much time left with them.”
35 q's for fanfic writers! | my ask
