Work Text:
Humans would always wonder, what is life? What is their purpose? What is its meaning? And you, a demon, who has lived for more than 4 centuries, still wonder the same thing.
Was it to prove your worth for the heavens, or to throw you in hell for whatever sins you may commit? Was it merely for accomplishments, to mark a stain in the world? Whatever it may be, you could hardly care less. For, all humans will perish, it was only inevitable.
They were mortals, a timer already planted in their bodies. Their bodies fragile, as one damaged organ could lead to the destruction of their whole. And yes, you are immortal, but not invincible.
Pain. No other event would hurt you more than watching your clan perish in flames in front of you. So you had made a vow, a vow to never be attached to any other humans again. Never get into personal intimacy, for once, twice, thrice, was enough.
But Nijisanji, offering you to stream for them, a tiny hope lit up inside you that maybe you'd have your clan again.
Maybe just once more.
You start streaming and you find more of your kindred, find more than you'd ever want. Find them loving you as your clan once did. And you feel emotional, their love, their support, their care, their adoration. They pulse within you, resonating with the feelings of your old clan that you carry in your heart, your soul. And you're grateful, your kindred are truly wonderful.
Then there were your colleagues, friends, gen members, roommates. And you love love love them. The whole entirety of NijisanjiEN so so so amazing that you couldn't put them into words no matter how hard you tried (because you once had). All of them so entirely talented in their words, all ridiculously hard not to love.
And in them, you found peace. You found a home of some sorts.
And in him you found love.
Love you'd thought naught. Love you'd sworn to stray away from. For love means attachment, attachment means loss. And you couldn't -can't -let it happen again.
[Yet you already did.]
Humans are creatures bound by time. Like any other being living in this damned world.
But not you.
So with dull eyes you watch as they all fall, all in different ways and time.
You open your heart to these creatures, and time and time again, a piece of you breaks.
But he, with an inescapable grip, holds your broken heart in his hand. Picking up its fragments to put it back together, to fix it altogether. But you know, he knows. That, in the end, he'll break it once more.
And it hurts, but you live for the moment.
For he is love, so wild yet so gentle, so harsh yet so caring.
So you think of it not, think of not how it will not last forever, but enjoy every loving moment with him.
And with a call, a whisper, a mention, a murmur of your name-
"Vox!"
-falling from his lips, you forget. As if there are only you two in the world.
Pulling him close, you engulf him in your love (because if you didn't, your feelings would overflow).
So with your lips on his, on his forehead, on his chest, on every part of his body, you call out-
"Mysta."
-and he would respond with an arch of his back and a whine from his throat.
So maybe, just once more.
But what of it if he is taken from you. Taken from you when he had yet to reach old age. Taken from you when he is still healthy and active, like most young adults at that point of life.
You think it unlikely, your boy was stupid, but he does not completely lack common sense.
Yet, there he lays, on your arms. His grip on your arm weak, unlike that night you two spent under the sheets, showing both heaven and hell of your love for each other.
There's red. Blood. It reminds you of when your clan had fallen.
Your hand is pressing against his stomach, trying to stop the flow of red from the gunshot wound.
What happened, Vox?
A hand reaches out. And another. His hands, ones you have held multiple times, are bloodied.
Are you okay, Vox?
Warm blood and cold palms touch your cheeks.
Can you stay strong, Vox?
He cradles your face, wiping away the tears you didn't know had fallen.
Will you continue on, Vox?
Lips brush against yours, and you press against them. But you don't close your eyes. You keep staring at him, even as he pulls away.
What will you do now, Vox?
His bright, turquoise was now dulled, staring back at you, and you shiver.
He smiles and mouths his love for you, and… You can't. So for one last time.
One last time.
You kiss him one last time.
And as you pull away, you whisper to him.
"Rest now, my love.
His eyes are slowly closing, still he resists.
And when you wake,
His hands fall limp and drop to the ground.
I'll be there
You pull him closer to you, not paying mind to the warmth of his blood.
to greet you 'good morning'.
Your ears are buzzing, is that you screaming?
I love you, Mysta."
Ahh... How cruel.
How truly despicable.
For centuries you wonder if your immortality was ever such a good thing. And you'd thought that no, not really.
But now, as his lifeless eyes stare at you, stares past you.
You think that, ah. Immortality is truly the worst.
Meeting you was the best and worst moment of my life.