missing my rotten ugly boy
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her

Kiana Khansmith

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"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
DEAR READER
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shark vs the universe
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@wovegear
missing my rotten ugly boy
♡ “ HE ‘ S always picking up the slack for me . ” ♡ “ it ‘ s pretty hard not to smile around HIM . ”
( PRESS △ TO SORA ! ) / ♡ & ↺ ! / SORA & RIKU from the kingdom hearts series . as adored by lyra & nova .
UHH ! i’ll be returning here shortly ! pls anticipate ur daily lyra annoyance !
is this what you really want?
𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐬 / / @wovelight
‘ is this what you really want ? ’
a light exhale in laughter, a smirk pierced with sharp & threatening enamels, ever opalescent. oh, don’t make him laugh, whatever you do, don’t make him laugh ; you don’t want to see how much insanity can seep into veins & make one reek of malformed regret.
“ of course it’s what i want , i have you now , don’t i ? ”
fingertip, clad in organic fiber and damn near drenched in blood strokes a pale & ghostly apple of a cheek, and even though one is ever so gentle & frail, tears still cascade down that very same flesh & dilute mixed crimsons & rue, the sheer scent of rusted blood enough to turn anyone’s stomach, even make a devil’s advocate throw up vile & rotted pitch ; but one had dove far too deep into hellfire drenched insanity that all he could do was keep that very same smirk & focus on purity embellished tears.
the way they fell … terra & aqua that was ; not those pretty little tears. vanitas could play it over & over again on repeat if he could, ( he’s mine. ) would remember how glassed over their eyes fell as he put their very essence to a stop, ( i’m all he needs, all he wants. ) as he practically bathed in their blood, ever the serpentine & forced them to watch as their life came to a painful & slow rest ; foam like nettles coating their lungs. ( do you understand ? )
it was an obsession, a cruel & sick obsession that a boy had taken too far ; but ventus was in his arms, ventus was holding onto him as some form of twisted comfort, visage coated sanguine fluid of those he once cherished ; and vanitas loved every moment of it. oh how hopeless he was, how broken & shattered he had become, now, & only now, was the time vanitas could fill in those dark & jagged ridges, fix ventus & show him just how important their bond was, how vital it was that it was them, and only them.
“ don’t cry … please don’t cry . you don’t want me to feel bad now , do you ? ”
tone is coated in viscous like venom, dulcet underlying & just as tender as the same claret palm that rakes through unruly, blond locks ; as if it would comfort a boy in anyway.
“ it’s okay . you’re SAFE with me. & nobody will hurt you , my little dove. ”
If the groundhog sees @wovespells, that’s 6 more weeks of winter.
aptxx4869:
my traumatized ass: do I have a crush or am I just idolizing this person for being vaguely nice to me
they were right about you. you're beyond saving.
𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐮𝐱 𝐥𝐚 𝐦𝐨𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐞́ / / @wovelight
IT WAS somewhat bizarre, the way a sentence intent with bitter hatred falls past a messenger of the heaven’s lips, silken & feather light in contrast, much like the tender touches of pale finger tips running through raven hair. on the other hand, it was even more bizarre that vanitas accepted the statement so easily, didn’t dare to retaliate in an outburst in fire like anger or test the waters further, antagonize the bundle of blonde one was resting so peacefully with ; body weightless & care-free, even if only for a moment.
you’re right. but it hurts. everything hurts.
he stirs, stirs just enough so eye contact was inevitable, so a raven could see bursts of amber painted prettily across a crystalline & pure iris within reflection, and delicately, a thumb grazes one’s cheek, fine lines smoothing over the soft & diminished blossom blush dusted over skin with little to no imperfections. it was moments like these that a boy so devoid of light wondered if those bumps of pain within the confinement of his chest were instead beating & organic life, a heartbeat to call his own.
but i want you to help me. i need you to help me.
playing god wasn’t exactly a hobby to the youth, though the pleasure that came along with power was a concept one was endeared by ; with the littlest of movement a hand could drop, wrap around a dainty neck and squeeze until all traces of pure & glorified life escaped one’s lungs. but you couldn’t do that. you’d hate that, hate yourself. if only the action could simply be mirrored, if only you had the guts to do it to yourself & spare your better half the misfortune of your miserable & pathetic excuse of an existence.
you still hated it though, how you couldn’t draw a breath without him, couldn’t see colors past pitch or hope for a better tomorrow ; maybe that’s why you keep him so close, under a watchful & somewhat predatorial eye.
lips part as if to utter words though nothing comes out, instead a breath of empty air, stale & void is fixed between the two ; vanitas decides he doesn’t like space, no matter how little or vast it may be. an arm snugly fits around the shorter’s waist and pulls him closer, and head of ebony rests upon life filled lungs, 1 … 2 … he’s here, there’s nothing to be afraid of, just relax.
silence, & it was deafening.
LORD HURON & sentence starters
❝ they say love is like ghosts. ❞ ❝ i know that i’m damned. ❞ ❝ all the dead seem to know where i am. ❞ ❝ i’m going away for a long time. ❞ ❝ die if i must, let my bones turn to dust. ❞ ❝ they come rising up into the night. ❞ ❝ all your temples will lie in ruin once i ravage through them. ❞ ❝ you were mighty. ❞ ❝ all your rivals would not go near you, but i do not fear you. ❞ ❝ but i bow no longer. ❞ ❝ i sleep with one eye open. ❞ ❝ but i’m not afraid to fight. ❞ ❝ i can’t trust anyone or anything these days. ❞ ❝ i’ve decided, even if it kills me i’ll find out what you’re about. ❞ ❝ you are not the one you say you are. ❞ ❝ show your face. ❞ ❝ i can’t escape the feel that you’ll meet me in the night. ❞ ❝ i know what you want, and why. ❞ ❝ few have seen it, but everybody talks. ❞ ❝ spirits follow everywhere i go. ❞ ❝ they sing all day and they haunt me in the night. ❞ ❝ what ain’t living can never really die. ❞ ❝ you don’t want me, please don’t lie. ❞ ❝ if you’re leaving, i gotta know why. ❞ ❝ do you see no ghosts in me at all? ❞ ❝ there ain’t language for the things i feel. ❞ ❝ i don’t feel it ‘til it hurts sometimes. ❞ ❝ i want ours to be an endless song. ❞ ❝ darkness brings evil things. ❞ ❝ you can run, but you cannot escape. ❞ ❝ i don’t know how to right the wrongs i’ve done. ❞ ❝ i don’t know how to fight what i can’t see. ❞ ❝ i’ve got to clear my name. ❞ ❝ i look into those eyes and see the endless night staring back. ❞ ❝ i’ve done things that have no name. ❞ ❝ i’m a goner i guess. ❞ ❝ now the darkness has a hold on me. ❞ ❝ the truth is stranger than my own worst dreams. ❞ ❝ i have seen what the darkness does. ❞ ❝ say goodbye to who i was. ❞ ❝ follow me into the endless night. ❞ ❝ don’t look back; those days are gone. ❞ ❝ i can bring your fears to light. ❞ ❝ i am ready to follow you, even though i don’t know where. ❞ ❝ it feels like i have been away for an era, but nothing has changed. ❞ ❝ i don’t want to be the only one living when all of my friends are gone. ❞ ❝ 'good for nothing’ is the name they’ll remember me by. ❞ ❝ i turned my back on the world. ❞ ❝ i’m just living to die. ❞ ❝ i’d given up on living until i met you. ❞ ❝ i feel alive when i’m with you. ❞ ❝ i wasn’t always like this. ❞ ❝ years have gone by, but the pain is the same. ❞ ❝ you’re the purest soul i’ve ever known. ❞ ❝ death is a wall, but it can’t be the end. ❞ ❝ i did it all for you. ❞
i didn’t go to the st patricks day parade today but i won’t do NOTHING for my culture so listening to irish trad music all day will suffice !
give me vaninami or PERISH
don't make me hurt you.
𝐟𝐞𝐮 𝐝'𝐞𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐫 / / @wovelight
❝ hmph … ❞
an expression normally uttered out of child-like fits leaves his form, though this time it’s betwixt utter amusement & sadistic tendencies, lips curved upwards to form a condescending like grin to match that tone, leaving him like waves of a beating heart ; oxygen & blood running through cold and frosted veins that pulsed with every sickening breath he took.
hurt. as if a star led youth could hurt vanitas any further, could rub salt into treacly crimson wounds and marinate black, blue, purple skin, bruised & scarred any further, could throttle his heart with his own textured veins or even hang him on a stake for the vile & malicious sins he had surely committed ; but that was just the thing, ventus couldn’t hurt vanitas, ventus couldn’t whisper death threats and stick to every sick syllable that an angel attempted to commit to, for it was simply too out of reach, too out of his character.
insanity laced laughter bubbles from his throat like hellfire, tar-like & viscous, and with one swift movement the tip of voidgear tears at organic fabric hugging one’s muscular arm, blood, crimson & thick oozing from it’s tear & vanitas doesn’t dare to wince, doesn’t dare to show any signs of weakness in front of his lesser half.
❝ you think you can HURT ME ? i’d love to see you try , hm – actually, i invite you to try , implore you to see just how LITTLE you can do with that WEAK LITTLE HEART of yours . ❞
a gloved hand finds it’s way to press against a fresh & air stung wound, pressing and pressing until blood, thick as treacle runs down his arm, a deranged hum following from him as tainted fingertips press against a pale & psychotic visage, smearing it’s stain across his lips and somewhat up the apple of his cheek down to the tip of his chin. the sight is horrific, really, somewhat self-condescending, but not as horrific as the sight of a voided shell, leaning down to smear that very same blood & essence of life across the bottom lip of another, it’s threatening action surprisingly soft & gentle with pressure despite it’s underlying threat.
an aurous gaze locks with one crystalline & azure blue, much too opposite in comparison, and he keeps smearing, keeps going despite the look of absolute terror and horror painted across the angel’s features ; laughter once again bubbling from his throat.
❝ i hurt myself enough , can’t you see that ? YOU’D WASTE YOUR TIME . ❞
voidgear is once again summoned, though now it’s dangerously close to one’s visage that pressing it against a blonde’s cheek & slicing a tear of pain & anguish against innocent flesh is far too easy for a devil of the night, and with a swift throw of a keyblade, it’s metal echoing within a room devoid of redemption, that same maliced touch already ruined with blood of another, gathers that line of blush & brings it to his own serpent like tongue, breath faintly scented like an apple fresh from the roots of death ; oh how easy it was to give into temptation.
❝ but … if you deem it fit , id GLADLY welcome you to do so . ❞
updates !
just underwent a huge unfollow spree, if i unfollowed there’s no hard feelings i just don’t have the need / want to interact with your muse since i have bumped up my selectivity.
this blog is now extremely trigger heavy as i feel comfortable exploring more aspects of vanitas as a character. all triggers will be tagged as such: ‘nsfw:blood’ ‘nsfw:gore’ ‘nsfw:suicide’ etc. if we are mutuals and you need a specific trigger tagged, PLEASE IM me asap so i can make one for you !
i now have three exclusives : @wovespells @wovechains & @wovelight. i will not be interacting with duplicates of these characters.
i have a gf ! DFKJGFDGDF not much of an update but uwu for happiness amirite...
you can defeat the darkness inside of you, too.
𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐞̀𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐢 / / @wovechains
❝ oh SHUT UP & spare me your poetics . ❞
malice, absolute malice tainted with pitch & viscous calamity crawls up one’s throat and taints words that are spat aggressively. it ushers a quick summon of a keyblade so devoid of light it’s own shadow was bound to dissolve abound cracked earth, leaving behind only a damaged terrain & foul stench, much like the heart blackened by darkness within the confinements of his own rib cage that’s rotting away silently.
one would let the thought slip by that vanitas was tired by now, muscles pulsing & aching beneath an organic like fabric that hugged damaged & bruised skin, but pushing terra so far that he was on his knees, collapsed upon rugged earth wasn’t much of a struggle for one that practically let smog like darkness fill his lungs like air, lived upon it as his eternal life source ; for terra was weak. so weak that it made bitter & sick like saliva gather in the back of a raven’s throat & taint it along with a feeling of utter resentment.
oh how folly a boy devoid of master-hood could get, it was laughable, really.
❝ you’re UTTERLY PATHETIC , i should just choke the life out of you here & now . ❞
despite the pain seeping out of blood-oozing scars & bruises bone deep running down the very arm that supported the weight of voidgear, vanitas still has the strength to lower it, press it against the sharp tip of one’s chin and lift, forcefully, ruthlessly even, and with a simple thought his own mask is dissolving & showing just how mad with power a youth had gotten. aurous gaze is crazed & full of resentment, pupils w i d e and fully focused on tears that cascaded down the opposites cheeks. & a smile, utterly horrific, only shapes the words that fall from his lips, usher him to reside down to his level, even if only for a little while.
❝ what do you say, huh ? or should we give your little friends a show instead ? i’m sure they’d love to see it . see the LIFE IN YOUR EYES FADE … hear you draw your last breath . ❞
unfollow spree & rules update coming soon.
"what do you feel?"
𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞! / / @wovespells
VOICE SOLEMN, full of concern, it ushers the roll of one’s crimson hues & forces one to break a smile, even if artificial & ultimately repulsive ; sure to induce problematic, oversensitive cries sooner than later.
what was there to feel ? a broken fragment can think of a handful of things, can feel years of overwhelming guilt & regret soak redemption glazed lungs, block one’s throat with fear induced hesitation, can feel those same nightmares that haunted sleepless, insomniac eve’s within a vessel you painstakingly were forced to call home.
you were forced to live through the mistakes you made & the misery that came with them, surely, a master wouldn’t find it easy to understand, wouldn’t even attempt to. so what was the point of even trying ?
besides, it was easier to fake a smile & force yourself through the tears you drowned your insecurities in, waves upon waves ultimately washing over salvation once so craved upon, now buried deep among celestial gazed earth.
❝ you’re asking me….why ? ❞
a fist, curled upon one’s side in a way to repress an out burst of anger & hatred, but not for the other, no, for oneself, for a tragic boy that didn’t want to feel red bubble up from his stomach, didn’t want to feel summer graced wind tickle his skin or the warmth of golden rays upon youth. he didn’t want to feel. he didn’t want anything.
oh, but he did want something.
one would consider vanitas lucky, lucky that redemption was merely handed to him, that a home was given to tainted hands & shelter was everlong. but that was just the thing, he didn’t want this, didn’t ask for this ; vanitas wanted to be dead, quite frankly. wanted nobody to weep or mourn for him, wanted darkness to fully engulf him until he was a distant, bitter memory to those he so tortured with empty threats & glares that could kill.
one wanted to throw a pellucid & crystalline halo to the floor, for it was too askew & horns didn’t seem to hold it up that well, contrary to popular belief. no, it let it hang sometimes, let the world see that it was a fake and you’d truly never fit into it, for it was never meant for you, never meant for a monstrosity to wear.
❝ is that what you’re here to do ? to strike me while i’m down ? that’s so very out of your character, master. ❞
venom was laced into words, woven into them with every syllable he so spits out. it was just what they wanted, right ? to throw their petty reasoning back in one’s face, tell him ‘i told you so’ & pretend to care for one with a facade you so effortlessly changed once out of view ; or at least that’s what vanitas thought of the three.
a laugh, somewhat patronizing passes through him as he turns his back to the other, lets crimson gaze find home in the nearest thing he could find, funnily enough it was a destiny that one craved for himself, so much that the very sight of a grave adorned with blooms & wayfinders has his skin crawling, has blood boiling within the confinement of veins against pale skin.
‘ this is all i yearn, why don’t you give it to me? ’
❝ i think you already know how i feel. ❞
@lighthalf @voidhalf
WOW CAN WORK NOT KICK MY ASS FOR ONCE? i have a week off so maybe you’ll get some activity outta me