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chrys-uki · 2 years

Text

Blood-stained petals, won't you pull me close?

!! HEADER CREDS TO ARTIST ;; ART IS NOT MINE !!

(Chapter 2) !! this is a fic done by me under the name tadashibean on ao3 !! angst, hurt/comfort, i like seeing vox suffer hehe ♡

Vox Akuma x Shoto, Nijisanji EN's 4th wave; Luxiem ♡

Happy reading~

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・゜✭・.✫・゜・。.

He remembers the day they attached the stars to his ceiling. He remembers that they had gone to the nearby convenience store to get some groceries.

He remembers Shoto, picking up random items and explaining what meals he could make with that said item just to prove to Vox that “Yes, I do know how to cook!”. He remembers the purple haired boy suddenly perk up mid-sentence, placing the can of tuna he had been holding back into the shelf carefully before bounding over to the aisle with party supplies.

He remembers the look in the boy’s eyes; Excited, enthralled, happy, beautiful. Like he had absorbed every single light source in the world into his eyes. The shone so brightly, it nearly blinded Vox. “I wouldn’t mind being blinded by him,” Vox remembers thinking.

A fond smile wormed its way onto his face at that thought, sighing happily.

He remembered how insistent Shoto was on getting two packs of the glow-in-the-dark stars; One for himself, and the other for Vox. “So when we lay in bed, it’ll be like we’re looking at the same sky!” He remembers Shoto claiming in that hushed voice of his, his excitement clear as day. “We look at the same sky anyway, dickhead,” Vox remembers replying teasingly, but only he would know how hard his heart had been beating at that instance, and just how warm his chest felt.

Shoto was never one to back down from even a slight implication of a challenge.

His phone lit up with the barrage of messages; the dinging blurred into a continuous, unpleasant hum. Vox sighed, blindly groping the bedside table for a hair tie and a few hair clips he always kept there to tie up his long hair and clip up his bangs. He stretched absentmindedly, rubbing his stomach without thinking as his body bloomed in warmth, smiling softly to himself.

His mother used to rub his stomach everytime he woke up. Such a small thing, yet it held so much meaning to the red-haired man. He stretched languidly, like a cat would after lazing around in the comforting warmth of the sun.

The first thing he heard that fully woke him out of his sleepy stupor, was the sound of ceramic plates clinking against one another. HIs first thought was Luca, since he did explain that he could make killer pancakes. He felt a wave of relief wash over as he resumed his stretching, sighing quietly as the knots in his back popped. He rubbed his forearms comfortingly, looking around to survey his surroundings when his eyes caught a shine, immediately drawing to them.

“A plastic bag..?”

Instantly, Vox rooted around in the bag, finding a bunch of his favourite snacks. He would not admit it to anyone else, but he was extremely touched. He did not remember telling anyone from Luxiem his favourite snacks; Or anyone in general, really.

Except…

But he could not have travelled across the state to see him, right? He has streams to do and sponsorships to look through- and of course, planning out for a bunch of other stuff that Vox barely had any idea of.

The dinging of his phone once again broke his train of thought, reminding him almost painfully that he had many unread messages. Groaning quietly, he slowly made his way to pick up his phone when he found a card slipped under it. Picking up the card, Vox realised it was quite expensive, what with its fabric like texture and rich gradient of cream and purple, dancing together as they intertwined beautifully, creating a delicate painting of royal, undeniable beauty.

Vox thumbed the corners of the card, his eyes dragging over the expanse of it, finally landing on the carefully written words.

The demon felt a pang of recognition upon his eyes focusing on the letters. They seemed to be tilted slightly, almost as if they were italicised. Every stroke and dip seemed hurried, but not messy, admittedly. It was…endearing.

He recognised this handwriting, Vox knew; But he could not quite place it. The words, though, were a whole new other thing.

“Ike let me in- I saw you sleeping soundly, so I did not disturb you. I have to say, you look adorable sleeping peacefully, Vox”

“Ike let you in, huh…Then you’re not from Luxiem…” Vox muttered to himself, idly twirling his ponytail, humming thoughtfully. Just who could it be…Who is trustworthy enough for Ike to let in, in the middle of the night, without questions asked?

That’s the exact moment it hit him; The rest of Luxiem had an offline collaboration at an arcade. He kindly declined the offer to join them because of his health, and also because he was not up for an outing.

“Oh what the fuck…Okay, this is getting really confusing,” He huffed. He knew it would be much much easier to go downstairs and have a look at who was in their shared home, but Vox would be lying if he said he did not like this sense of suspense.

As if on cue, just as he was lifting his phone up to scroll through his notifications, his throat closed, another coughing fit making its presence known. Somehow, Vox was aware he was not going to be able to make it to the washroom quick enough. So instead, he looked around, patting down the vicinity around his bed for the pail that Ike had left him with.

He heaved roughly, his throat turning raw from the feeling as those damned petals made their way up his oesophagus, forcing their way through his larynx. It was painful- So *so* painful.

Vox knew there was a cure, but he did not want to lose feelings for such a sweetheart like Shoto. If anything, he would rather live with this disease and feelings than let them go.

He tasted metal. You would think it was a taste he would have gotten used to, having this disease for about a year now, but the taste only disgusts him further. As the red dribbled from his mouth, lumpy mixtures of once-beautiful white petals and dark red blood dotted the inner walls of the pail, a beautifully painful reminder of his very nuanced feelings towards a certain purple haired boy.

His eyes blurred as tears lined his waterline, ready to flow out. His ears seemed to be ringing incessantly. Everything was blurry; He did not think it had gotten this bad, really. A hot flash ran through his body, making him shiver as he felt the sticky feeling of sweat coating his skin, albeit invisible.

A hand seemed to be outstretched in front of him, holding a glass of water. He took it, muttering a raspy thank you, tilting the glass back fully as he swallowed the water in huge gulps. A cold respite, he drank like a parched man stranded in a desert. “But flowers do not bloom in the desert,” his brain supplied, once again pulling him under the seemingly still waters that were his feelings.

“Vox? Are you okay?”

That voice.

No, it could not possibly be…

“Shoto?”

—------------------------------------------------------------

crying screaming- i love it when vox suffers but he's my precious bean

next upp, thoughh, i'm happy to announce

Ike x Luca fluff - maybe some domestic type of thing? or a cafe date, oooo~ <3;; hopefully

If not, you can definitely look forward to a 3rd chapter, and a masterlist + possible future projects list + askbox (maybe) + an intro of sorts?? we'll see

Happy stargazing, readers~! till the stars conjoin us again~

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・゜✭・.✫・゜・。.

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chrys-uki · 2 years

Text

Blood-stained petals, won't you pull me close?

!! HEADER CREDS TO ARTIST ;; ART IS NOT MINE !!

ANOTHER NOTE !! my ask box is open for the next week, feel free to requesting any pairing, prompt and/or setting, and i will write it for you asap! do let me know if you're okay with me posting it publicly <3

(Chapter 4) !! this is a fic done by me under the name tadashibean on ao3 !! angst, hurt/comfort, i like seeing vox suffer hehe ♡

Vox Akuma x Shoto, Nijisanji EN's 4th wave; Luxiem ♡

Happy reading~

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・゜✭・.✫・゜・。.

Vox did not know what time it was; All he knew was everything was too bright. His eyes hurt behind his eyelids, and his joints creaked with exhaustion. He wanted to call out for Shoto, when a hot flash surged through his body once more, the force jolting him slightly. He whimpered audibly, a series of coughs assaulting his throat once more, and he was too in pain to even notice Shoto stumbling through the door, reaching out the touch Vox.

It took the demon a few minutes to realise he could not breathe, his chest tightening further at the realisation. His eyes darted across the room, settling on the blotted purple figure he supposed was Shoto, trying to move closer. A warm, shaky hand came to rest on his sternum, rubbing firm yet slow circles as his chest eased up, albeit slowly. Vox shuddered at each breath he took, the sharp sting in his throat only getting more prominent as time passed.

Vox blinked once, twice. His vision was slowly starting to clear.

Vox wished he did not notice this, but there was something different with the way Shoto interacted with Vox today, and it was not a good kind of difference either. He surveyed the other’s face, acutely aware that his chest was still hurting. Unlike the night before, there seemed to be the illusion of a poker-face, one Shoto was trying to keep up but failing horribly.

What could have happened to Shoto in those few hours that Vox was knocked out?

Something hot landed on his cheek, and Vox struggled to make out what it was. He sat up, his head throbbing from the effort but he reached for Shoto nonetheless, long, nimble fingers wrapping around a delicate wrist, tugging gently.

He guided the hand to his pale cheek, revelling at the coldness of the touch and closed his eyes, nosing at the side of the palm gently, letting a low, content rumble erupt from his chest. Vox felt Shoto’s hand slacken further against his face, a clear sign the other was finally relaxing. Vox felt pride slowly forming a bubble in his chest as he fought the urge to let a smile spread across his face, and to kiss the other’s palm.

He should not — They were friends. But he so badly wanted to.

Gradually, but surely, the scent of lavender and vanilla clouded Vox’s senses, and he directed his gaze upwards to see the owner of that distinct scent, only to be met with the said owner already staring at him, a fond smile tugging at his lips as the redness of his eyes seemed to slowly dissipate.

The ache in his chest had disappeared somewhere during that whole exchange, and Vox was not sure if he should let himself indulge in the fantasy that just for that day, Shoto was his.

Was he Vox’s though?

With the way he was looking at the demon, Vox could be fooled into thinking Shoto was his.

Midnight purple eyes twinkled under the influence of Vox’s bright ceiling lights, showcasing the painting of purples and indigo and violet that were Shoto’s irises; somewhere between blue and purple but also quite…not. It was breathtaking. The one thing that made it even more ethereal to Vox was the emotions that Shoto’s eyes held captive.

Indigo streaked into something more pure, more endearing. Shoto’s eyes swirled with love and affection. A hint of desire too, was sprinkled in there somewhere, and Vox felt utterly warm, from his chest, inside and out as it spread throughout his veins, muscles and nerves, every part of his sickly body being engulfed in that beautifully fragile sensation.

A part of Vox incessantly nagged at him that what he saw was not true, that he was just too desperate for Shoto’s affection and just conjuring up false ideas and insensible daydreams in his head. Maybe a trick of the light, perhaps? But the said demon pushed it all away.

“One day,” he pleaded with himself, his eyes trained on the other’s eyes, his hand cautiously coming up to brush a few stray hairs behind a sensitive ear, eliciting soft whines from the man kneeling in front of him.

“Let me have this for one day.”

Desperation pushes man to the edge, daring him to do things he normally would not, the adrenaline making him fearless, on top of the world. But that was not what Vox was feeling right now.

There was no adrenaline in his blood, nor was there the giddiness of a sudden surge of energy. He did not feel like he was on top of the world, nor did he feel fearless, because the one thing — the one person, the one true love — he could lose was right there in front of him, taunting him everyday. But something about the way Shoto was looking at him ignited something within the fantastical being, because he had never found himself being so cautious, so careful to not hurt the other, so aware of just how the other was feeling.

Every touch, every glance, every look; it was all too much yet too little simultaneously, and something about this concoction of feelings brewing within him made him want to scream, to beg for it to stop, but it also made him yearn — it made him think what it would be like to be able to touch and hold Shoto as he wished, exactly like in his daydreams.

A slight pinch on his cheek, and Vox was brought back to reality, just aware of how close Shoto had gotten. If anything, Shoto seemed to notice that he was lost in his thoughts, and e a unrestrained, slight sheen of pride glinted in his eyes.

"Were you thinking about me, Voxxy~?"

Shoto's melodious voice purred out, the vibrations travelling straight to Vox's heart, and the demon did not know if 400 years of living and roaming this planet had given him experience to handle such a sensual voice.

Slight stuttering, and a quick nod against soft hands was all it took for Shoto's smile to spread impossibly wider, cheeks plumping up further from the notion.

Vox felt his stomach churn violently, butterflies rapidly fluttering their wings against his stomach at the thought that Shoto was happy because he was on Vox's mind, and he nuzzled further into Shoto's hand.

His ears were getting impossibly warmer — so warm that Vox was sure he was having a fever. He inhaled deeply, his eyes fluttering shut when suddenly, the lukewarm touch on his cheek disappeared.

Vox let out a disappointed whine at the loss of contact, and opened his eyes immediately, ready to berate the other for taking his hand away when he saw a smooth palm in front of him, faced up.

Shoto tilted his head expectantly, and Vox felt the wind rush out of his lungs, the warmth in his ears imperceptibly increasing.

He gingerly placed his hand in Shoto's, waiting for the denial and the pushing, but it never came. Instead, soft, gentle fingers intertwined with his, barely enveloping his hand, tugging him gently.

"What?" He croaked out, throat dry from the lack of use and continuous coughing, internally cringing at the way his voice sounded.

Shoto only looked back at him, tugging his hand more insistently than before, effectively pulling the demon out of bed, causing the latter to stumble slightly, his hand tightening around Shoto’s as the purple-haired man chuckled warmly, the action making warmth spread from the demon’s head to his toes.

Vox would have believed that their whole interaction did not affect Shoto as much as it did him, but the red tint of the other's ears indicated otherwise, and Vox was sure he was about to die from the way his heart was erratically pounding at his ribcage at that observation. It would not be a bad way to go, he supposed, his mind wandering as he let himself be dragged by the shorter male. He trusted the other anyway. It is Shoto after all; there was no need to worry.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, a voice spoke up, quietly rumbling from within his very core.

"You didn't cough up any flowers today."

And Vox found himself wondering if this would be the first of many more such instances, where Shoto would be next to him, holding his hand like so and he would not be coughing up those wretched, alluring, captivating, blood-stained petals.

—————————————————————

yaaay fluffy chapters !!!!

next up~!

I have a banger luca x ike fluff/angst/semi-smut (?) fic coming up

friends have been telling me to make it like a series, with each chapter being posted as oneshot on its own, that could be read as a stand-alone piece and as a prt of the series, if you get what i mean

this fic's chapter 5 will come along too!!!

maybe i'll make chap 6 really angsty just cause i can

or maybe i'll do it for chap 5,,, hehe

Happy stargazing, readers~! till the stars conjoin us again~

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・゜✭・.✫・゜・。.

44 notes · View notes

chrys-uki · 2 years

Text

Blood-stained petals, won't you pull me close?

!! HEADER CREDS TO ARTIST ;; ART IS NOT MINE !!

(Chapter 5) !! this is a fic done by me under the name tadashibean on ao3 !! angst, hurt/comfort, i like seeing vox suffer hehe ♡

!! TW !! Detailed descriptions of SH and panic attacks and blood !!

Vox Akuma x Shoto, Nijisanji EN's 4th wave; Luxiem ♡

Happy reading~

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・゜✭・.✫・゜・。.

After stumbling down the stairs clumsily, with soft giggles bouncing off the wooden planks and walls, the pair somehow ended up in the kitchen, an amazing fragrance diffusing into the air.

Almost as if on cue, Vox’s stomach grumbled softly. The thought of food seemed heavenly to the demon, and so he immediately made a beeline for the counter, taking a seat at the barstools he bought, thanking the heaven’s he did not pass up on those stools.

As Shoto turned away to fix up a plate for him, Vox could not help but stare at his hands, watching and inspecting the dry, pale skin, edges peeling off as a sign of his withering frame. He wondered how long he would last against this disease — how long until the flowers bloomed in his chest at the expense of his life.

A lump formed in his throat, and he felt his chest get heavier as tears filled his vision. He needed to feel something.

⚠⚠ TW: SH ⚠⚠

He needed to feel something, and he will be damned if that something just so turned out to be glass shards pressing into his knuckles or the sharp sting of a blade running across his wrists.

⚠⚠ TW END ⚠⚠

Vox shook his head violently.

He needed to be in control of himself — He needed to not break down, or do anything stupid because Shoto was right there, right in front of him. His eyes darted across the room, his fingers picking at the edges and hangnails. Why was he here again?

Oh right, Shoto brought him here.

Shoto…

Vox looked up to see Shoto turning around, the smile on the latter’s face faltering as he looked at Vox’s reduced state of misery. The demon could not tear his eyes away, even though he knew he should.

He knew he should wipe his eyes and blow his nose, waving off the other’s concerns and say he is fine, because he is absolutely fucking peachy. He knew he should crack his knuckles, force out a ghost of a laugh and let his cheeks tug into a forceful smile, swallowing down the painful lump in his throat.

But he could not.

It all happened too fast.

In an instant, Vox’s lower lip started to wobble as his breaths steadily increased in pace. He bit his lip to stop it from trembling, but that only seemed to instigate the nerves further. One action turned into two and Vox could not breathe. He felt the fear washing over him; fear that he did not know he had of dying, dying in such a cruel, unfortunate way. It was a good way to go, he supposed, but he did not want to die; not before he saw Shoto happy with someone else, someone better than him, more trust-worthy than him — someone who would treat him right. His chest was hurting and his eyes were burning and his head was spinning, and he absolutely hated, absolutely despised the fact that Shoto had to see him like this — so weak, so pathetic, so broken and ill and so, so messed up.

He could vaguely feel the strain in his white knuckles as he gripped the counter for his dear life, each shaky breath stabbing needles into his already bloodied and bruised lungs, and Vox did not know if he was going to live at that moment.

⚠⚠ TW: SH ⚠⚠

He wanted to claw his throat out, he wanted to bang his head against the counter till either his skull shatters and he dies, or until he was bleeding profusely and he passes out. He wanted to dig his nails into his eyes and rip them out of their sockets, and a sensible part of Vox knew that was not what he should do.

⚠⚠ TW END ⚠⚠

His blurred eyes blindly searched the room for anything, anything he could use to ground himself, to stop himself from trembling inside and out because goddamnit these vibrations from his shaking limbs were painful and he needed it to stop, it needs to stop, he wants it to stop, please get it to fucking stop.

Fuck, fuck fuck fuck. He needs it to stop- he does not want to spiral, he does not.

His cheek collided with a hard surface, his hands immediately letting go of the counter to grip onto the soft fabric, his breathing shaky as he felt himself curl towards the warmth. A hand found its way to his hair and was carding through it gently, and Vox shivered as sobs wracked his frail body, his chest heaving from the weight of his sorrow and pain. A warmth surrounded him, wrapping around his shoulders and rubbing soft circles onto his shoulder blades.

He could hear his own cries and wails echo in the kitchen, hurriedly trying to suppress the pitiful sounding cries to no avail, the plated food long forgotten and cold. He wished this warmth would stay with him for eternity. He wished this warmth could fill him up when he was empty and soothe his healed wounds and battle scars with the same soft touch that he was being administered. He wanted it, god he wanted it so bad, and it only pushed the knife in his chest to think that this would certainly never be his to have.

Vox felt like it had been hours since he was enveloped in that warmth. He sniffed inelegantly, exhaustion washing over him in tidal waves as he sighed heavily, nuzzling further into the fabric, purposely avoiding the wet patch.

Wait…fabric?

The demon jerked his head up to look at the source of the warmth, meeting Shoto’s sad yet loving gaze. Loving…?

He pressed a pale wrist to his spinning head, light-headed from all the crying as he looked up at Shoto, uncaring of how he looked. He opened and closed his mouth, wanting to find any plausible explanations to what had just happened when a pair of soft lips pressed against the skin of his forehead fleetingly, rendering him speechless.

Tears welled up in Shoto’s beautiful purple eyes, and he pulled Vox closer to his chest, fingers tangled in red-streaked black hair, massaging comfortingly.

“It’s okay Vox; I have you,” Shoto whispered brokenly against the demon’s temple, and Vox let himself have this moment, curling further into the other’s touch, gripping onto the other’s shirt so tightly he worried it might tear.

The demon watched as tears slid down his love’s plump cheeks, staining the pure skin. His hand moved before he could think, gently cupping the demon slayer’s cheeks as he brushed the tears off lightly, making him painfully aware of the sticky feeling of dried tears on his own cheeks.

Shoto shot him a shaky yet blinding smile, and Vox felt fondness bubble underneath his skin. He tugged the other’s collar gently, pulling him down and watched, silently amused as Shoto complied immediately, inches away from the demon’s face.

He slowly leant up, pressing his lips to the other’s forehead and pulling away almost immediately, watching as Shoto’s face bloomed into a beautiful shade of crimson. A soft squeak poured out of the other’s lips, and Vox decided that, yeah, he does want to swallow all of the demon slayer’s noises with his kisses.

He watched as Shoto leaned back, his hands still wrapped around the demon’s shoulders, eyes darting across the room. It was a beautiful sight to Vox; it was one thing to hear them, and another to see it for himself, just how adorable the other got when he was all flustered.

“Vox, the food,” the demon slayer said, prompting the demon to take a look at the plate.

There were two waffles stacked on top of each other, with chopped blueberries and strawberries adorning the top, honey drizzled enticingly over the whole dish. A simple yet fulfilling breakfast. Something itched at Vox, though.

“How did you know I love waffles?”

And oh god, Vox wishes he could burn this side of Shoto into memory.

Red creeped up Shoto’s neck and face, reaching all the way to the tips of his ears, where the shade was more prominent. The shorter male fiddled a lot more with his fingers and pushed back sweater paws (why does that sweater look familiar-), the floor seemingly more interesting now. Pearly white teeth dug into the soft flesh of his lips, peeling the skin off of it absentmindedly, which then prompted Vox to cup his cheek once more, brushing a featherlight touch over the other’s bottom lip.

He rubbed the lip gently, causing Shoto to finally stop worrying the plump flesh. He hummed softly, gently pushing Shoto away as he stood up, stretching like a feline, his hand coming up to rub his stomach once more, warmth blooming into his joints.

“Well, we could have the waffles with ice cream for dessert. For now though…Takeout?”

—————————————————————

i am slowly but surely perishing in the most saddest way possible /j

anyway, agenda for next post (which will be around end this week/ next week)

1) the lucake / luca x ike fic i've written halfway

2) the next chapter of this beautiful fic

3) maybe an aster x ren (late) birthday fic

4) psyborg fluff because i need to cure my soul

Happy stargazing, readers~! till the stars conjoin us again~

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・゜✭・.✫・゜・。.

23 notes · View notes

chrys-uki · 2 years

Text

Blood-stained petals, won't you pull me close?

!! HEADER CREDS TO ARTIST ;; ART IS NOT MINE !!

(Chapter 3) !! this is a fic done by me under the name tadashibean on ao3 !! angst, hurt/comfort, i like seeing vox suffer hehe ♡

Vox Akuma x Shoto, Nijisanji EN's 4th wave; Luxiem ♡

Happy reading~

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・゜✭・.✫・゜・。.

One moment, Vox was staring up at his plastic star-studded ceiling, imagining Shoto, the very love of his life, walking through the door with bags upon bags, reprimanding Vox for keeping quiet. The very next moment, there the aforementioned man was, currently fawning over Vox as he placed his hands on the demon’s chest, lightly pushing him back to rest against the headboard.

Vox’s head was spinning. Whether it was from how good Shoto looked, or smelled - Is that lavender shampoo??? - or how utterly *warm* his hands were on his skin or from the fact that he had just coughed up more of those wretched petals, Vox felt extremely light headed.

His vision was blurring together as he brought his wrist up to his temple, groaning softly. He was aware of the rising temperature of his body; He could feel the flush coating the apples of his cheeks, a slight sheen of sweat covering his whole body. His throat was parched, and so he swallowed, the sting from throwing up those petals serving as an omnipresent reminder of his condition.

“Hey, Vox, don’t black out on me.”

Shoto’s voice sliced through the air. It was *that* voice, Vox’s mind supplied somewhere in the back of his mind, warmth blooming in his body at the revelation. The demon gasped, trying to sit up as his chest burned almost painfully, his insides churning incessantly. His mind was fuzzy; He could not make out a single shape in his room.

“Vox, Vox, hey, it’s okay- I’ve got you, let it happen.”

Shoto’s words wrapped around him like a cold blanket. He shivered before letting out a soft whimper. -Too much, too much-, he wanted to say, but his mouth remained glued shut, his eyes dropping shut on their accord.

He sighed softly as he let his eyes drop shut, feeling something cold and slightly heavy on his forehead.

He felt… better. So much better, for some odd reason.

“I’ve got some food for you downstairs- You finally get to taste my cooking,” Shoto giggled quietly, his voice no more than a whispered lullaby, all smooth and soft with delicate edges. Vox felt a clammy hand brush against his cheek gently, the coldness a very welcome surprise.

He leaned into the touch, hearing the other’s soft chuckle at the notion as the hand started to rub against his cheek fondly, a tired smile painted on the demon’s face.

Shoto felt his heart rate spike up considerably. This was the Vox that was reserved for him, apparently; All soft, vulnerable and…so *raw*. Their interactions were never forced, even if they tended to be on the mature side. But Shoto would not have it any other way.

Vox let out a soft hum, deep from within his chest. He felt the vibrations course through his bones, waking him from his haze. He opened his eyes fully, focusing them on the demon slayer before him as he moved to sit up properly, gently nudging the other’s palm with his nose.

Vox cleared his throat cautiously, scared to hurt it more than it already was, signalling to the other to grab his phone for him, to which Shoto responded by leaning closer towards him.

“What- What the fuck is he doing?” Vox internally screeched, leaning back from the increasing proximity. Vox could feel Shoto's warm fan over his cheeks and nose.

The thought that they were literally breathing the same air popped into his brain, sending him in overdrive. It felt intimate — too intimate — for something that they were supposed to be; Best friends.

Vox was thankful for the flush that sat high on his cheekbones and covered the expanse of his neck — for he could believe that the warmth rushing to his cheeks was simply a byproduct of his condition, rather than how close he was to Shoto.

It was intoxicating, he realised, the scent that was just so…Shoto. Lavender and…Vanilla? Vox never knew he could take a liking to the scent of lavender; He always thought it was too overpowering for him, but on Shoto? It seemed only fitting — It seemed perfect. Calming, soft, with childish innocence buried under layers and layers of cool-toned outfits — Gentle, delicate, subtle. It was everything that Shoto was, and Vox did not know if he could go back to breathing in plain Oxygen after this impromptu visit.

The demon could feel the other’s hand grope around in the sheets, trying to grasp at Vox’s handphone. A sudden exhale from the one above him had Vox, who did not realise he was burning holes into the other’s lips, looking up and into Shoto’s eyes, and boy was the demon glad he did that.

A bright blush dusted the other’s supple cheeks, that were currently puffed out from what Vox assumed was frustration. Vox wanted to kiss those cheeks so desperately, to pull him against his chest as they fell back against the bed, air filled with light giggles and a sweet aura. He wanted to know if Shoto’s waist would fit in the crooks in his elbows, if his entire hand could cover the expanse of a half; If both of his hands would be enough to fully encircle the other’s waist.

That thought sent a hot flash up through the demon’s spine, a strong tremor wracking his body as he swayed forward, his hands immediately coming up and fisting in Shoto’s shirt as an attempt to regain balance. He let out an embarrassing, undecipherable sound and immediately whipped his head up to look at Shoto, anxious if the other had heard, but the sight that greeted him made his heart flutter ferociously.

Shoto’s eyes swirled with worry and concern, and his face only seemed to be closer than before, his brows furrowed as clear concern was splayed across his smooth features, a small hand once again coming up to cup a cold, pale cheek, rubbing soft circles onto the skin.

“Vox, are you okay?” Shoto’s voice wavered slightly from the concern, and oh, Vox could kiss him.

But he can not.

They were friends, and being this close and thinking about Shoto in that way made his gut twist. They were friends, goddamn it. Shoto could never like him that way, Vox knew. He deserves someone better, someone more worthy — Someone that is not Vox, because Vox will never, never be good enough for Shoto.

Quickly, Vox retracted his hands from the other’s shirt, the phone long forgotten. He leaned back from the other’s personal space, clearing his throat and resting his head on the headboard, the world spinning. He blinked once, twice — Waiting for the blurry images to stop. He bit his tongue harshly, so hard he could taste metal, and he hummed. Guilt grew like a weed in an unkempt garden, stemming from his heart and spreading to his head and limbs, trickling down spine-chillingly.

Shoto trusted him, and this is what he does? He goes and thinks about him a romantic way- and god Shoto would never look at him that way because he’s just too good for Vox and he was sweet and kind and—

A sharp inhale.

A soft exhale.

Vox opened his eyes once more, and Shoto was still there, looking unabashedly, despite their closeness just a few moments ago.

Shoto reached out, handing Vox a paper towel and his phone, leaving the room silently, his footsteps receding down the staircase.

And if Vox thought he saw hurtful admiration in Shoto’s eyes, he ignored it.

—————————————————————

i quite literally ripped my heart out of my chest by denying a sweet, fluffy and pda-filled ending but

angst agenda wooooo HAHA

next upp, thoughh, i’m happy to announce

I promise i will get you all the Ike x Luca fluff you deserve ; It's just hard to write their dynamic *inchoerent sobbing* this fic's 4 th chapter will come out quite soon too! + thinking of some shu x luca fluff / voxto fluff to make up for my poor heart after this

Happy stargazing, readers~! till the stars conjoin us again~

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・゜✭・.✫・゜・。.

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chrys-uki · 2 years

Text

Blood-stained petals, won't you pull me close?

!! HEADER CREDS TO ARTIST ;; ART IS NOT MINE !!

(Chapter 1) !! this is a fic done by me under the name tadashibean on ao3 !! angst, hurt/comfort, i like seeing vox suffer hehe ♡

Vox Akuma x Shoto, Nijisanji EN's 4th wave; Luxiem ♡

Happy reading~

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・゜✭・.✫・゜・。.

Vox knew what love was. Obviously he knew what it was. I mean, after being alive for 400 years, who would not know what love is?

He simply just forgot how intense it was. Or how painful it could be, when it is unrequited, that is.

Maybe the Hanahaki Disease made his feelings seem all too real, like a tidal current pushing forth from the wrath of Poseidon himself, unable to hold back its barriers for any man, human or otherwise. It was overwhelming to say the least.

The voice demon wracked his chest violently, his palm stinging from the way his nails dug into his skin, heaving a sigh as a mixture of blood and clumped, stained petals fell into his sink with a sickly thump, the crimson staining the pure-white porcelain. Vox watched silently as the petals slid down the side, leaving a trail of bright red in its wake that was steadily diluting into a pale pink. He wiped the blood that was dripping down the corner of his lips, humming quietly at the dull pain in his chest. He plugged up the sink, gently picking the petals up, no longer distracted by the saturation of the blood, and turned on the tap, letting the water rush over the petals, the red giving way to white frilly layers, strung beautifully together.

A knock on the door broke him out of his spell, for he muttered a raspy “Come in”, his mind clearing slightly. The scent of jasmine hit him before he could look up to see who it was that entered the room; Ike Eveland. Out of the whole of Luxiem, only he would have that kind of a scent, his lips quirking up in a fond smile despite the tiredness that seemed to settle heavily in his joints.

“Vox..? Did you cough them up again?” Ike’s soft voice sliced through the air, piercing his heart straight on. He shifted his gaze from the door back to the white petals in his hands, humming in agreement, too tired to speak. He knew what these petals were, which flower they belonged to.

“Gardenias,” Ike said softly, somehow already right next to him, his voice barely above a whisper as he placed his hand on the small of Vox’s back reassuringly. “They symbolise secret love…”

“How fitting,” Vox muttered, to which Ike let out a soft snort, apologising immediately. The demon shook his head to show he did not take offence, blinking up blearily at his reflection in the mirror.

“I look like shit,” he stated, trying to do anything, *anything*, to break the unspoken silence that blanketed the bathroom, avoiding the obvious elephant in the room. He was not entirely wrong though; His cheeks had sunken in, his skin turning a sickly pale, more paler than before. His skin stuck to his bones, clinging on for their dear lives as his nails were chipped, all ragged and rough, his hair a mess as well. He unclogged the sink and began to rinse his mouth out as a way to tear his eyes away from the mirror, from the fact that he did not recognise the person staring back at him, his eyes empty and bloodshot.

Ike sighed quietly, knowing that anything he said would not help the other. He loved Vox with his whole soul, platonically of course. It took ages before he found out about Vox’s current condition, and he was nearly convinced he was the cause of it, until he noticed a change in the demon’s demeanour around a certain purple haired individual.

It was fitting really; Their energies mixed well with each other, oddly. When all the cameras dropped, it was easy to see how much they both loved each other.

Unfortunately, they were both cowards.

Vox sighed softly, brushing off Ike’s hand from his back with a smile, moving out of the bathroom and plopping onto his bed indignantly, exhaustion taking over his body. He hummed softly as the silk sheets rubbed against his skin pleasantly, coercing him deeper into its crevices. The voice demon closed his eyes as he felt Ike tuck him in and leave the room quietly, the pleasant scent of jasmine leaving along with him. Ike probably ran off to find Luca or Shu to bother; They do have a collaboration coming up.

Vox pinched the silk sheets between his thumb and forefinger, rubbing the fabric absently as he stared at the faint red splotches; Places where he had accidentally gotten his blood on when he first coughed up those wretched flowers. He remembers the day like it was etched on the back of his hand.

The demon had just gotten off of a call with Shoto, his longtime friend and, unsurprisingly, the person the black haired man had fallen hopelessly in love with, unbeknownst to him. It was not for a collab or anything; He remembers because Shoto spoke in *that* voice, the one he reserved for when Vox and him were alone, not in front of their chats.

That voice never failed to make Vox feel all warm. It was soft; Quiet, one might say, but also quite…not. Emotions weaved into every word like a beautiful garland, and the warmth of the words spoken, the quiet laughs, the endless teasing. Somewhere along the lines, the lines of friendship and lovers blurred for Vox, yet he never spoke up. He was too afraid; Afraid of ruining something so pure, so innocent, something he never knew he needed but had. And so he kept quiet.

He kept quiet about his rising heart rate, his stupid lovesick smile when the other’s message would pop up on screen, the stupid skip his heart would do when he saw fanarts of him with Shoto. He shoved away the butterflies, locked away the urges to kiss the other senseless, and told himself it was not right. It was not right to think about Shoto like that, but how could he help it? Every rise and fall of the demon slayer’s chest, every movement, every word and syllable, every emotion as clear as day in the other’s eyes - Shoto had enchanted him; had him wrapped around his finger.

He prided in it, though. He prided in being able to read Shoto so well, especially more so when he learnt he was one of the closest to the said purple haired man. He prided in being in love with him, because he knew he had made the right choice; He had chosen the right person.

But every night, as he lay in bed, staring up at the plastic glow in the dark stars Shoto insisted on getting for him when they had an offline collab a few months back, the demon questioned if Shoto laid in bed just like this, looking up at his ceiling and thinking about Vox, too. A part of him wanted to believe it; That he wasn’t the only one imagining the feeling of the other’s skin against his, but he knew it was too good to be true.

So, looking up at the ceiling that was dotted with worn-out glow in the dark stars that Shoto had attached, Vox let his mind wander to the enticing image of him tracing Shoto’s skin. How would it feel, under his rough, calloused hands?

Soft, he supposed, just like every other part of Shoto is.

The demon let out a slew of dry coughs, his throat constricting painfully, falling against the bed once more with a thud. Taking a small sip of the water next to him, Vox sighed heavily, fiddling with his fingers lightly, wincing as the sting in his throat nagged at him incessantly. He begrudgingly picked up his phone to check for his next doctor’s appointment, when a text message flashed, capturing his attention.

Shoto <3

Hey Vox? Are you okay?

Ike said you were sick, so that’s why you

didn’t come down to get some gelato with us

Vox blinked at his phone, sighing softly and debating whether or not he should lie to Shoto. It’s not like the demon slayer would let it go though; He can almost see Shoto parading through the door, bags upon bags in hand as he reprimanded the said demon for not telling him sooner. The thought made him smile.

Yeah, yeah, I’m fine

I suppose Ike didn’t tell you the

full details of my condition?

Shoto <3

Yeah, he didn’t

Just briefly glazed over it, tbh

So i thought i’d text you to get a clearer picture

No pressure tho :)

His eyes were burning. For what reason, the demon did not know. He shook his head violently, groaning in frustration and sighing, typing out a reply as his fingers automatically moved across the keyboard.

Ah, well

To put it simply…

Hanahaki disease; but i’ll be fine

*seen 11:30 pm*

As soon as Vox saw that Shoto had read his message, he clicked his phone off and dropped it next to him, stretching lightly and bringing up his fingers to trace the outlines of the stars. “They’re pretty..” He thought, although he did know they were plastic.

Maybe it was because they, too, were from the person he loved.

—------------------------------------------------------------

crying screaming- i love it when vox suffers but he's my precious bean

next upp, thoughh, i'm happy to announce

Ike x Luca fluff <3, and definitely this fic's 2nd chapter. I just need to proofread and edit it, however- it is up on ao3 <3

Happy stargazing, readers~! till the stars conjoin us again~

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・゜✭・.✫・゜・。.

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