* BLACK HEART .

but  don't  you  see  ?  i  did  choose  .

[putrefys-blog]

you  are  a  funerary  wreath  ,  laid  at  atlas  ‘  grave  .   ♡

[voyde-blog]

*  lightmimic  .

Dueling hearts; memories trickle into this one, many not her own — she feels sad for him.  WANTS TO SAVE HIM  /  isn’t that the funniest thing?  /  FEELS COMPELLED TO FIX THIS SUFFERING.  She can’t, of course.  Would he let her?  “I could say the same to you.”  She’s leeched his memories.  She knows.  “Like looking in a mirror.”

     is he,  though?   he looks at her and thinks he sees something else  /  wants to see something else.  they were both featureless,  once.   ❛   we’re nothing alike.  ❜   and if she weren’t on this side,  she’d be an enemy  --  in some ways she already is one.  in some ways they all are.

     he could care less for what xehanort wants.  kingdom hearts?  who cares.  he aches for a sense of wholeness he’s never been conscious of having.   ❛     don’t make comparisons between us  --  you can barely think for yourself.  ❜

[voyde-blog]

me : i will destroy the bnha fandom w my own two hands before i ever return to the rpc there bnha : villain centered arc maybe ? me :

[voyde-blog]

@oathcrafted

     his is an intimidating gait,  carrying with it the promise of a future destruction --  this isn’t the target;  this slip of light,  but long gone is the promise of following orders to the letter.     ❛  i want to dive into this darkness.   ❜  (  i.  )

[voyde-blog]

clenching my fist : still think it’s horseshit that vanitas isn’t the tallest of the boys

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i  want  to  be  more  than  bones  .    /   written by libra  .

[voyde-blog]

@conflagrationsstyle

     this dichotomy exists outside of him  /  light & dark,  wherein he could only be one thing  :  but he knows it,  inexorably  --  where a shadow is cast,  light exists.  and so it always will be.   ❛  our enemies are replaceable.   ❜

[voyde-blog]

@lightmimic

      they could be one and the same,  her and him  --  creatures cast from the depths of another,  molded imperfectly into unexistence,  not mean to be and yet being,  all the same.  he wonders if she wishes to return from whence she came  /  he wonders if he does,  anymore.   ❛  you sad,  achey thing.   ❜   (  i.  )

[voyde-blog]

@existends

      a hand crossed over a heart in painful regrowth;  he feels defanged,  a snake coiling in on itself,  and still lies in him the ability to make threats  --  let roxas decide if it’s empty,  if he does not mean it.   ❛  a man is just a man,  until he reaches for your throat.   ❜    (  i.  )

[voyde-blog]

but also sup . poetry starter call for tomorrow .

[voyde-blog]

but also sup . poetry starter call for tomorrow .

[voyde-blog]

islelight replied to your post: i WILL write her tomorrow im GONNA

write who

you know

[voyde-blog]

but also sup . poetry starter call for tomorrow .

[voyde-blog]

honestly vanitas like --

vanitas   🤝  everyone who is shaped and constructed                        after sora & ventus  (  edit : AND KAIRI WHAT THE FUCK )                         who have had to form                        identities of their own even if he harbors                          some jealousy for the fact that they can                          grow to be whole people meanwhile                           vanitas will always be a fractured halved                           heart of ventus & who will struggle to form                           an identity separate from ventus outside                            of wanting to ingest the rest of his heart                            like how some twins eat the other in the womb.

[voyde-blog]

existends replied to your post: honestly what if i just never change my icon just...

please ………………….. change it ………..

should i change it to this ? ur the aesthetics expert

[voyde-blog]

*  existends  .

                does it make him uncomfortable ?      maybe .  there’s enough he associates with that coat  ,  that organization  ,  that leaves a  sour taste  in his mouth when he thinks about it  ,  playing  puppet   to a group of people who saw fit to fill the hollow remains of the sun with whatever stuffing they could find .  but there are people he hates more  ,  and people he  loves  that wore that black coat too   ——   if vanitas thinks he’s somehow getting a  one up  on him  ,  he’s wrong .

                ❛  no .  ❜      to both questions  ;  he doesn’t mind  ,  and he doesn’t give a shit if vanitas values his comfort or not .      ❛  i was staring at your helmet  ,  actually .  you really wanna leave that thing on  …  ?  it looks  …  stuffy .  ❜

      behind the aforementioned helmet is a mask of neither disapproval or approval,  rather that negative emptiness that encompasses vanitas’s borrowed features;  he wonders,  if roxas knows  --  that as much as roxas wears two resemblances,  vanitas wears a counterfeit countenance himself.  it’s easier,  this way  :  he needn’t have to look close into a mirror and recognize the creation of features where once there was nothing.

      it was, if nothing else, a reminder of the distance between himself, and ventus. the crevasse between them both opened and widened further;  identity formed in absentia.

      ❛  some of us can handle a little heat.  ❜  a bit of applied pressure;  like a weapon forged for war.  ❛  ...  doesn’t bother you at all,  huh?  not even the littlest unpleasant memory?  you can tell me,  roxas.  ❜

[voyde-blog]

o yea ... munday huh ...