A request by Pyro the Reader:
Spike battles his own demons, literally.
“No matter how much you tell yourself Twilight loves you, you’ll always wonder if you grew up a slave.” The thing beneath the table chattered. Hidden in shadow, it could not be clearly seen, but its limbs could be heard to scuttle. Thirteen eyes glowed in the dark, each one pointing in a different direction. It’s voice hissed like steam escaping an engine.
“You could ask her if she saw you that way,” it said ever so softly, “You think you should ask her. But you won’t, because you’re afraid the answer is yes, and if you spoil the illusion, she won’t love you anymore. You know you’d love her even if you were her slave. You know you’re a coward in your heart.”
Then it peed on the rug.
“Ugh.” Twilight curled her lip and then turned to shout upstairs. “Spike! You forgot to take Xargoth of the Dark Whispers out again. He peed on the nice new rug.”
“I took him out this morning!” Spike said, emerging from his room and hurrying down the main stairs. Xargoth’s waste was already eating through the rug and consuming it in curls of black smoke.
“Spike.” Twilight sighed, her tone stern. “Look, you can do what you want. But if you want to be a deep character with nuanced opinions and legitimate inner conflict, you have to deal with the resulting problems. Particularly when your inner demons take physical form and piddle on things!”
“I know. I know.” Spike sighed. “Sorry.” He picked the leash and animal care kit up off the wall, clipped it onto one of Xargoth’s spines, and started to tug the thing outside. It resisted, clinging to the floor, and Spike had to struggle hard on the leash to get it to move.
“Good.” Twilight turned back to her morning paper. “And you’re not a slave. So. FYI.”
Spike shot the demon a nasty glare. “Rat out my secrets you little…” He gave the leash a hard yank, physically dragging the thing outside against all it’s struggles.
“You ever think you’re more trouble than you’re worth?” he asked it as it peed in the bushes outside the castle. The bushes died.
“In your heart, you long to be rid of complexity of character, and to return to being the child whose only emotions were greed and gluttony.” Xargoth hissed. “You have no love of virtue, but your shame binds us together.”
“Mmmmmm.” Spike drew a deep breath. He considered his response.
Then he pulled the spritzer bottle out of the care kit, and sprayed the demon with a few squirts of holy water. “No! Bad. Bad!”
XD
This is just making me thing of Wapsi Square.
9193822
I suppose. I honestly wasn't taking it very seriously. It was meant to be a joke on the lines of the bit in Angel where a Barbarian Hero is trying to rescue someone from a demon brothel due to a misunderstanding.
"But...you are a slave."
"Don't judge me!"
You gotta be firm with these inner deamons if you want them to stay.
Thatd be a weird alt reality...
Going to work with depression literally visible...
Yuck.
~Skeeter The Lurker
"against all it’s struggles"
"against all its struggles"?
:D
How many authors would get this from that prompt, I wonder?
Pfffft-ahahaha!
I could really use one of those spritzer bottles.
lmao