✘ Vanitas (
darkcharge) wrote in
dreamcrystals2022-01-05 05:30 pm
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Entry tags:
dream: i need the rest of me
Sender: Vanitas
To: Everyone
Subject: Passive dream recording | CW: choking, vomiting, drowning
It all starts at a Heart Station. Or, rather, what should be one. What should be a great structure rising from the very darkness itself, covered in stained glass is... Blank. There's nothing. No colors. No shapes or depictions of things that the heart would hold dear. Instead it's all broken. A web of shattered glass that is beyond repair - though it most certainly looks like someone has tried. Great fissures mar the surface while large pieces seem to be broken away or even missing. A coupled even seem to be floating above the station proper.
Most would be bright and shimmering to some degree, but this one doesn't. Whatever light had once been has faded. Stare long enough and there are flickers, as if there would be a short in the wiring, if this place had anything like electricity flowing through it.
At the center, of course, stands Vanitas. Whether or not this is a true depiction of his heart doesn't matter. This is how he views it. How he sees it. Longing. Anguish. Pain. So much pain. Hate. Hate hate hate.
Whole... I want to be whole. I need it. I need my -
Light. There it is. A soft ball of warmth coming from above. He looks up, of course. Because it's right there and within reach. When Vanitas moves, it's jumping from broken piece to broken piece and ready with his hand out to obtain what he desires most. What will make him complete. Whole.
Almost -
Monster
A pause. Frozen. Something like ice begins to move through his veins. No. Not here. Not now. The shadows around the Station seem to shift. Take the form of red, glowing eyes watching his every move. He knows this feeling. Knows this emotion. Terror. It's bubbling in his chest. Gipping it like a vice. Vision spins as Vanitas missteps and falls. Crashes against the glass. Tight too tight. Air. No air. Can't breathe. Terror. Horror. Fear. Anxiety. Everything hitting hard. Fast. Too much at once. Spinning. Spinning. Dizzy. Pain.
Pain.
Pain.
Can't hold it in. Can't contain it. They're going to come out. They're going to break free. Then it will start all over again. And break free they do with Vanitas on his knees. Coughing and hacking. Covering his mouth because he needs to keep it all in. Emotions can't be allowed to break free of him again. Yet out it comes, Vanitas heaving and a black substance like tar splatters against the glass. Rolls down his face. And again. And again. Over and over, fire taking the place of ice. The glowing red stares all the more intense as they take shape and form. Unversed. Hundreds of them. All his own emotions grabbing and reaching.
Pulling. Tugging. Dragging further and further away from that Light. Not until they swallow Vanitas up completely. His lung burn. Fear. Terror. Pain. It's an endless cycle that he can't break free of. For the more intensely he feels those emotions, the more that he chokes and more spawn. What good did it to? To keep trying? This is the result. This is always the result. To live and to suffer. To strive and to always have it out of reach? To have hope. All of these thoughts cycle, out of control. Emotions spiraling until it's thing but a sea of black and those faces staring at him. Limbs growing tired and weak. Everything is fading. No Light. No Darkness. Just-
"V a n i t a s!"
Nothing.
To: Everyone
Subject: Passive dream recording | CW: choking, vomiting, drowning
It all starts at a Heart Station. Or, rather, what should be one. What should be a great structure rising from the very darkness itself, covered in stained glass is... Blank. There's nothing. No colors. No shapes or depictions of things that the heart would hold dear. Instead it's all broken. A web of shattered glass that is beyond repair - though it most certainly looks like someone has tried. Great fissures mar the surface while large pieces seem to be broken away or even missing. A coupled even seem to be floating above the station proper.
Most would be bright and shimmering to some degree, but this one doesn't. Whatever light had once been has faded. Stare long enough and there are flickers, as if there would be a short in the wiring, if this place had anything like electricity flowing through it.
At the center, of course, stands Vanitas. Whether or not this is a true depiction of his heart doesn't matter. This is how he views it. How he sees it. Longing. Anguish. Pain. So much pain. Hate. Hate hate hate.
Light. There it is. A soft ball of warmth coming from above. He looks up, of course. Because it's right there and within reach. When Vanitas moves, it's jumping from broken piece to broken piece and ready with his hand out to obtain what he desires most. What will make him complete. Whole.
Almost -
A pause. Frozen. Something like ice begins to move through his veins. No. Not here. Not now. The shadows around the Station seem to shift. Take the form of red, glowing eyes watching his every move. He knows this feeling. Knows this emotion. Terror. It's bubbling in his chest. Gipping it like a vice. Vision spins as Vanitas missteps and falls. Crashes against the glass. Tight too tight. Air. No air. Can't breathe. Terror. Horror. Fear. Anxiety. Everything hitting hard. Fast. Too much at once. Spinning. Spinning. Dizzy. Pain.
Pain.
Pain.
Can't hold it in. Can't contain it. They're going to come out. They're going to break free. Then it will start all over again. And break free they do with Vanitas on his knees. Coughing and hacking. Covering his mouth because he needs to keep it all in. Emotions can't be allowed to break free of him again. Yet out it comes, Vanitas heaving and a black substance like tar splatters against the glass. Rolls down his face. And again. And again. Over and over, fire taking the place of ice. The glowing red stares all the more intense as they take shape and form. Unversed. Hundreds of them. All his own emotions grabbing and reaching.
Pulling. Tugging. Dragging further and further away from that Light. Not until they swallow Vanitas up completely. His lung burn. Fear. Terror. Pain. It's an endless cycle that he can't break free of. For the more intensely he feels those emotions, the more that he chokes and more spawn. What good did it to? To keep trying? This is the result. This is always the result. To live and to suffer. To strive and to always have it out of reach? To have hope. All of these thoughts cycle, out of control. Emotions spiraling until it's thing but a sea of black and those faces staring at him. Limbs growing tired and weak. Everything is fading. No Light. No Darkness. Just-
Nothing.
no subject
But Sora is there at his side as needed. His hand is on Vanitas' back as he tries to comfort him in some way physically. Ready to pull back if Vanitas doesn't want to be touched. He's already grasping for a clean cloth from the side and turning on the cool water with clumsy fingers.]
Vanitas, I'm right here...! Just get it out and breathe in! Big slow breaths like we always practiced!
no subject
Don't expect him to speak though. The most he can do is nod and make gurgling noises. Because any time he really tries to talk, it's just another episode. At the very least he isn't trapped in this cycle of just feeling things too intensely and letting it overwhelm just to sink further into despair.
These... Probably won't make Unversed. Probably.
Still, it's a few minutes more of this before things start to settle. Before Vanitas can actually get a few gasps of air in. Once he does, then he can practice that breathing. Deep breaths. Inhale. Hold. Exhale.
But now he's so tired and numb... ]
no subject
There you go... Easy does it. [He'll curl closer to the boy, pressing lips against his temple gently.] It was just a nightmare, Vanitas. It wasn't real.
[But ... There was a lot to it. A lot of meaning and hurt and emotions... He can't dismiss all of that either.
Sora takes the cold wet cloth and reaches to wipe gently at Vanitas' face. Cool and refreshing.]
no subject
If anything he wants to groan and lean into it. But he can't. Not with the ick on it. but once clean he will try to bury his face into Sora's shoulder. Neck. Something. ]
no subject
It's okay. It's okay.
[He murmurs softly. Letting the moment fade slowly...]
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Honestly it's been almost two years. Vanitas can hardly take that in some days. Two years of this brat constantly being in his business. Constantly being there for him. Being jealous and possessive and somehow laughing that Vanitas is the same. For all that they fight they are still... He still feels more complete for having Sora here.
Which is why eventually croaks out: ]
Couch. Blankets.
[ He doesn't really want to head back to the bed just yet. At the same time he wants Sora's stupid blanket piles. ]
no subject
[He might just try to scoop Vanitas up so he doesn't have to walk too much. Instead of making Vanita wobble his way after all that nausea. He'll make sure Vanitas is there comfortable on the couch and he brushes his fingers over his brow.]
Just gonna grab the blankets, okay? I'll be right back.
no subject
So once placed on the couch he'll curl up there. Years ago he wouldn't have been able to do this. Or, rather, he wouldn't have allowed for himself to do this. Be vulnerable and expose himself. He would have taken to hiding. But here he doesn't have to do that. Here, he's fine. Safe.
Cared for.
It's taken him a while to be okay with that. To accept this help and everything that comes with it. But here he is, relying on Sora to do everything that he just can't. To keep him safe. ]
no subject
He won't take long to gather up the mound of blankets that Sora always likes to have, They're still warm from sleeping as Sora returns and starts to drape them over Vanitas like a parachute. He tucks in gently before he moves to climb in there too. Snuggling in and scooping Vanitas to him with only the brush of Sora's slightly cold toes against legs that might be a shock.]
There, snug as bugs.
no subject
Just means that it's now telling how much comfort he actually derived from those stupid nests. Instead he'll just wrap arms around Sora again and rest his head against a shoulder. ]
Thanks.
no subject
That was a ... pretty big nightmare.
[He says this softly. Not wanting to bring up the nausea again but maybe they need to look over what happened in that dream.]
no subject
It's the same.
[ He coughs, his throat still just too raw. ]
Same one.
no subject
Sora's expression is soft but still concerned.]
It's been a little while since you've had one like that. I wonder why it came back up again.
no subject
Dunno. Maybe some stuff's been on my mind.
[ Who knows why nightmares or dreams happen. But Vanitas doesn't really want to tell Sora that it's been on his mind more lately. Not after their conversation about holding out for the future.
This is why it's so hard to. Because he feels like the closer he gets, the more he just gets pulled down. ]
no subject
You have to keep breathing.
no subject
[ Sora would be upset, he knows. To have Vanitas obsess over the fact he feels like he does. the brat would try to encourage him. Lift him up. Be there for him in the way that Sora always stupidly is.
Vanitas doesn't say much. Instead fingers grip onto Sora's shirt a little too tightly and his face remains buried in the other's neck. This time when Vanitas' breath stutters...
It comes with something hot and wet against Sora's skin. ]
no subject
It takes a moment for Sora to realize what that hot wet is on his skin. He doesn't say anything for a moment and only pulls Vanitas closer in a tight hug. Holding on just like he wants to hold onto this boy without letting go. No matter what it takes.
He thinks... he really would rip out his heart and give it to Vanitas if it came down to that.]
I know it hurts. It's going to be alright.
[Just let him say it.]
no subject
To have a moment - a year and a half at least - without that pain. Without having to worry about what his own emotions would do to him. Knowing that his heart was being healed. To have that all and then to end up here where everything just gets thrown back in his face.
It's just the real breaking moment right now. Vanitas has hinted at it. Hasn't really talked about it or allowed himself to actually process and feel all of that frustration. So now it's just. Coming out. All of it. ]
no subject
He doesn't say anything for a moment. Only pulling Vanitas tight and letting him get out as much of the crying as he wants to do right now. Hands comforting over his arms and shoulders and back to try to remind Vanitas that he's right here. Take all the time needed to just cry before working out the rest of it.
One thing at a time...]
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That's why his shakes gradually stop. Breathing evens out. There's dried tears on his face and clinging to lashes but he doesn't care. He'll have to wash his face again. That's all that it means. ]
I hate this...
no subject
He scoops Vanitas closer and buries his nose in his hair in a rough nuzzle and cuddle. Trying to ease up on the exhaustion with his own subtle comfort of being close.]
I know. But crying isn't always a bad thing. Sometimes it feels good to let it out and then figure out the rest after that.
no subject
[ Vanitas licks his lips. Chest feeling unbearably tight again. Sora doesn't know anymore. Can't feel the emotional turmoil that Vanitas has been in for months now. ]
This. Here. I know what you said about -
[ And he's coughing because his throat is raw and sticking together. It kind of hurts to speak. But he's trying. ]
Steps back and forward. It just feels like I've lost the chance to get what I want. Again.
[ How many times much he endure literal heartbreak? ]
no subject
[Sora pulls back slightly so he can see Vanitas' face after the coughing subsides. Almost nose to nose while he looks slightly downward at the other boy. His feet tangled up with the other.]
But... Stop talking for a second.
[He moves his hand down to touch the spot where Vanitas' heart would metaphorically be and physically is. Searching for the warmth of a heartbeat there. Now Sora doesn't have the odd and still very unexplained power of waking with him anymore and yet he...]
Hold on, I'm checking something.
no subject
What does, though, is the fact that Sora is telling him to stop talking. Vanitas looks at him. Perplexed. Isn't he... Supposed to be talking? As in, Sora wants him to talk about feelings? ]
...Sora?
[ What are you doing? ]
no subject
Hmm. Uh-huh. It's exactly what I thought.
[...???]
I can feel a heartbeat, it's pretty strong in there.
[What a thing to say. Especially when everyone from their world knows that the concept of "having a heart" doesn't mean your beating one in your chest. Of course, Vanitas has a beating heart pumping the blood in his body. It's the other heart that's supposed to be missing. Right? The strength of a heart, the embodiment of a soul. But don't look too perplexed yet, Vanitas.]
If you can have a heartbeat as strong as yours I know that someday your heart is going to be just as strong.
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wrap up! 💖