#jaxen

jaxen always liked it when he made someone cower. reminded them of their place. 

reminded them of just how fucking useless they were to stop him. 

a small glowing ball of magic— he sees it in the myriad-eyes of the Hunger. a dark red thing, sparking and crackling with all of the Devil’s energy. at the center of lucio’s chest, embedded where his heart was. 

“you— you, you can’t,” lucio breathes weakly as jaxen steps closer. lucio’s feet scrabble against the ground, not finding purchase. “you can’t, jax, please—”

the demon beckons. 

“now, jaxen, do it,” the hunger whispers. the snow from the star’s labyrinth falls on jaxen’s horns, against the rippling sinew of muscle and just— wrongness. “take it. the devil’s power.” 

oh, how he wants to. 

but why? why doesn’t he? why doesn’t he sink his claws into lucio’s body, powerless and weakened by the cold—

“one good reason,” jaxen’s voice almost returns to him, the dulcet tones of something approaching almost-human. “one good reason as to why i ought to let you keep it.” 

“because— because we have to help each other,” lucio says weakly. “because if-if you kill me and take it now, then you don’t— you don’t get to take power from the source.” jaxen watched as lucio becomes more emboldened, sits up a little. “we can still *help* each other.” 

jaxen’s not sure what makes him falter. 

but his powers recede. 

the hunger quiets, if only for a moment. deeply discontented, of course— but…  quiet.