Don't Fuck with the Forest Spirits || OTA

[evulsed]

characters: Vanitas (evulsed) + OTA
location: mostly The Church, the Invincible + the Boathouse
date/time: July 19 and the days following
content: just waking-up-after-being-dismembered things
warnings: violence

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[evulsed]

[ It echoes between them, maybe no stronger than it had been before, but Vanitas is dialed into it now— this specific frequency. The one that mirrors his terror back at him in the shape of Sora's jaw going slack to breathe quicker, that makes his eyes red in the light of his lantern. Now that he notices it, now that he's looking at it, the simplicity with which it could turn into a endless feedback loop is visceral.

Sora inhales.
Vanitas inhales in tandem.

Yes is on his tongue, but he sews it up tight with a clack of his teeth. Vanitas' eyes go over Sora's shoulder, to the monolith of the boathouse. He thinks of Gene, saying he was worthy of kindness despite what he is. He thinks of Wanda, and the soft press of her fingers in his hair. He thinks of how vulnerable he had felt, still feels, and immediately the same recoil of so many eyes on him at once.

It's strange, to feel brand new like this. Like when he'd first been born in that desert, when nothing made sense.

He looks back at Sora, and his light fills Vanitas' vision. ]

I'm not going to stay with all of you.

[ The fear in him says. Vanitas doesn't know yet that it will turn into a lie for almost a week. ]

[dualikey]

[It's strange- to know the answer before he hears it. Because Sora's sure that he knows, because it feels like the words have alredy hit the air or like it's a conversation that's happened years ago. He knows Vanitas will say yes the way he knows his own name or the way he knows what his old alarm clock sounded like, or the way he always knew where to find the cookies on the top shelf in the cupboard.

But more important than the reply is the way it feels before it happens. The moment doesn't just ease and it doesn't snap like an over-stretched string either. Sora feels it welling up inside him, a glass that's been filled to the point of overflowing- held together by suface tension and not much else. He feels it stop right before the point of no return. And then, barely a change at all, there's a little bit less. Vanitas mirrors his inhale and it's a little bit less again.

Their lanterns face one another, the bend of one arm and the slope of another. Sora becomes distantly aware of his feet in the sand and the gentle sloshing of water against the docks.]

Just stay with me.

[He doesn't know why he says it. There isn't a precursor, there's no overarching thought to connect point a to point b, to turn this into a solution. Staying with Sora isn't really any different than staying with everyone else and that's inevitable because of their living situation. He's not going to apologize for that- for wanting to be near his friends after everything. It's the nuance that matters. There's no denying that Sora and his friends are a package deal, but what with me really means is for me. Because it's something he needs.

Something about it- the prospect of the two of them going their separate ways right now and what happened last time, the way he plays it on repeat every time he lays down for too long-

His gaze snaps up and Sora realizes exactly what he's said only in the seconds after he's said it. And he could take it back. He could try.

He doesn't.]

[evulsed]

[ Sora says it, and a beat so heavy follows that when he suddenly meets Vanitas' eyes, it feels as though he's physically reached across the distance and touched him. It should make him stiffen, make him recoil— but instead, Vanitas feels something unspool from his spine.

The message has been the same from all sides: be better, be good, be more. He knows that's what these people want from him too, but in this moment— that isn't what Sora is asking of him. It isn't the way the strangers here seem to shoulder their way into his space, thinking he should have company, thinking that's what he should want and need. It isn't inviting Vanitas in to be part of a group he has no business intermingling with. He says just stay with me and the broken pieces of his heart understand what Sora is really asking without his having to say it.

With me. For me.
A wanting that only Vanitas can fill.

Vanitas thinks of how desperately he chased after Ventus, and how that boy turned him down time and again, a light too dazzling to be once more marred by darkness. How badly he needed that salvation. He thinks of that long expanse of peace, of how it felt to finally put everything down at it's inevitable conclusion and rest.

He doesn't look away from Sora's eyes when he takes that first step forward, and then another, until they're nearly toe to toe. Finally, when he looks away, it's to turn his eyes down on the glow of Sora's lantern, warm and steady as a heartbeat. With his chin bowed, he nods. ]