the island of misfit prompts.

[thanksalotforthememe]

(thank you dyslexic for giving us this beauty)

Because sometimes you can't decide what meme to post to and you'd rather choose from a bunch of random prompts instead.



1. You're trapped in a McDonald's. It's only a matter of time until the McNuggets run out or the McFlurry machine breaks …
2. You're trapped in an elevator and it's like that M. Night Shamawhatever movie so the devil is haunting you in it and you're probably going to die.
3. You're trapped in one of those giant meat freezers and slowly freezing to death with the other person in the thread. Will you huddle together for warmth like Seth Green in that one move?
4. tfln. Every good random prompt meme needs tfln.
5. mpreg. See above. Aliens? Genetic mutations? That breeding stable meme redux? It happened, and now you've got to get your shit together.
6. You have a big secret to tell the other person and now is your only chance. You're probably on your deathbed idk.
7. You woke up naked in a hotel room with the other person and no clue how you got there. This is some The Hangover-type shit.
8. Kinky times. Because every random meme needs a smut prompt, too. Get your 50 Shades of Grey on.
9. Body horror. You and/or person b are mutating into a zombie/robot/vampire/furry/cthulu/etc. and it's freaky as hell.
10. Disney time. You and person b are now acting out the Disney movie of your choice.
11. Roadtrip! One car, one … cup?
12. Ghost, Patrick Swayze style. You or person b is a ghost, and now you're trying to communicate with them from the other side. (NO POTTERY.)
13. Human centipede. I'll leave this one up for interpretation.
14. Mr. and Mrs. Smith. You and person b are both keeping huge secrets from each other, but one of you is getting ~~suspicious~~!
15. High school AU. What it says on the tin.
16. ZOMBIES!!!!!! Were you bitten? Are you hiding out in a shack somewhere in the middle of a post-apocalyptic wasteland?
17. A raccoon is trapped in the house and now you and person b have to figure out how the fuck to kill it.
18. You're dying a slow tragic death so you better get those last words the fuck out.
19. You're possessed by a ghost/demon/yeerk/whatever the fuck. Fight for dominance or … don't, no one actually gives a shit.
20. You're connected by a red string of fate to the other person and you follow it and find them and hook up?

Comments

Gilbert Nightray | Pandora Hearts

[chainedraven]

 

LMAO NO ACTUALLY 15

[laceratings]

[ it's a warm day, and summer has come at last, in truth, vincent is glad for IT. having to listen to their vapid conversation all day long, their high, chattering voices, their empty heads..

a few months reprieve will do him good; the joys of boarding school of course means that he won't need an excuse to wriggle out of this luncheon or that concert, and of course he'll have plenty of time to spend with --- ]

Gil!

[ vincent very nearly misses him, but catches sight of the edge of his brother's coat turning 'round the bend toward dormitories. hitching his backpack higher onto his shoulder, vincent heel-turns and trots quickly off in his direction, looping both arms comfortably around gilbert's elbow as he falls into stride beside him. ]

Are you all packed?

[chainedraven]

[Gilbert wasn't paying attention, of course. He has his nose buried in a book, mind focused on the words on the page ahead of himself. Vincent might be able to pass all his exams without so much as trying, but for his older brother it's more difficult, involving hours of work and study, so he plans to take advantage of the holidays and read something he personally finds interesting rather than class assignments.

But it's as though the thought summons his brother himself, and Gilbert finds himself half-skipping to keep his balance while fumbling in vain to not drop the book. It falls to the ground with a quiet thump and he mutters something inaudible under his breath, starting to reach downward for it even though he won't be able to finish the motion unless Vincent relaxes his hold.]

Of course.

[Mostly. He doesn't particularly want to go, not really. He likes being at the school and away from their adopted "parents" who never really seemed to want him around. But he's still conscientious, and carefully folded and packed his belongings rather than shove them into place to get all wrinkled and messy.]

[laceratings]

[ don't worry, gil, he's nice enough to let you stoop to snatch up your book but after that -- back into the grip you go. vincent's fingers bunch tightly in the fabric of his brother's sleeve, and his smile is fiercely sunny. ]

Of course. [ he parrots, because of course gilbert is packed, surely he was packed days ago, meticulously and neatly with a place for everything and everything in its place. vincent, in typical fashion, has crammed his things carelessly and haphazardly into his trunk. if the toothpaste explodes or his things get wrinkled it's hardly any concern of his. vincent tilts his head, pressing his cheek to gilbert's shoulder, but his mismatched eyes are up, studying his profile. gil always looks so serious.. ]

You seem so excited.

[chainedraven]

[And Gilbert stiffens slightly, shoulders setting in a very familiar posture. He doesn't understand why his brother has to be so... so clingy, but he has long since learned that trying to kick up a fuss will accomplish absolutely nothing whatsoever. In fact, it might make things even worse. So he doesn't openly pull away, instead simply trying to edge as far as he can get within his clothing, looking away from Vincent's face as he clutches the book tightly against his ribs.]

That's because I'm not.

[Why should he be? Maybe his brother enjoys the holidays. Maybe his brother is glad to be away from the school, despite the loss of his his adoring fans, but Gilbert isn't. At all.]

Did you need something?

[laceratings]

[ gilbert leans away, but vincent is inclined to cling, to keep him close any way that he can because vincent cannot stand to be without him, he must keep him near in every way possible. he doesn't seem at all abashed by gilbert's behavior though he surely notices his tension, and the way he pulls away. if he finds it insulting it does not show.

as usual, vincent only smiles, and holds close. ]

No. I only thought we could share a car on the train together, if you don't have other plans.

[chainedraven]

[The sigh is mostly internal, but enough of it escapes for someone so close as Vincent to hear. Gilbert shifts his hold on the book again, trying to call attention to it as though to hint that there's something he would rather be doing than being clung to by his little brother. Not that he really needs to hint, what with the look on his face.

(It didn't help matters that any of Vincent's many admirers would kill to be in his place. He'd rather change places with them anyway.)

Unfortunately, nobody had specifically asked him to ride together. There had been some talk, but— maybe Vincent had made it clear nobody else was welcome. Gilbert certainly wouldn't put it past him.]

...what if I do have plans?

[laceratings]

[ whether or not vincent has taken the time to chase off any and all possible friends or colleagues who might've wanted to spend time with gilbert on the train-ride home is a mystery, but it surely doesn't seem out of the range of possibility. vincent has always been possessive of his brother.

but it's good for gil to have friends! healthy! vincent has never denied him his social interaction, but you see, you must understand that this is his time now.. ]

Do you?

[ vincent is looking to him again, smiling, because no, gil, you don't have any plans and he knows it!! ]

[chainedraven]

....no.

[It's that smile that annoys him the most. That smug, self-confident little smile that says he can see right through Gilbert and finds it rather amusing. Once, just once, he wants to be able to say Vincent is wrong and feel self-satisfied for himself.

But then as soon as the thought crosses his mind Gilbert immediately feels guilty for it; clearly his little brother looks up to him (for whatever reason) and there's no reason to be mean, especially not deliberately. It isn't right to take pleasure in someone else's disappointment.

He looks away again, hoping that he's quick enough about it that Vincent won't be able to read any expression that might appear on his face, and clears his throat quietly.]

So I guess I'm free.

[laceratings]

Great!

[ whether vincent notices the shift in gilbert's expression cannot be seen, but surely enough he does. there is very little that passes by vincent unknown, especially where gilbert is concerned.

but he's right to feel it, of course, at least that is what vincent thinks. he is hardly worth loving, after all, not worth even liking for someone like gil, someone who deserves so much more and so it is that vincent never holds it against him, and is content instead with whatever meager scraps he is offered.

a quick squeeze, and vincent detaches himself at last, stepping lightly backward toward the nearby corridor that splits off to their right. ]

I'll meet you soon!

[chainedraven]

[When Vincent lets go it throws Gilbert off balance yet again (both physically and mentally) and he takes a hasty step before giving yet another quiet sigh. Maybe someday he'll understand his brother. Maybe. He does try, but... well, it isn't easy at all. Especially with the way Vincent seems to delight in upsetting his equilibrium.

It doesn't help that they're usually surrounded by the other students at the school, all of whom are busy fawning over the younger brother and whispering about how different the elder is. And when they aren't there, they're stuck at the home of their "parents", which he likes even less.

Gilbert sighs, raking his fingers through his uncooperative hair, and continues on his way with a vague kind of nod that might be an acknowledgment of his brother's farewell or agreement with it. Needless to say, though, he's going to be dragging his heels for as long as he can before finally hauling himself out to the train, trying to delay the inevitable departure.]

[laceratings]

[ the jury is still out on whether or not vincent enjoys his brother's apparent torment; truth be told, there is nothing in this world that matters more to vincent than his brother's happiness. the true problem lies in vincent's entirely skewed views on what should, and will, make gilbert happy.. but vincent is also quite selfish and doesn't at all see anything wrong with hoarding his brother like an overprotective toddler in the sandbox.

which, essentially, is exactly what he's doing now.

it's sunny on the platform, and vincent flips his blond ponytail over his shoulder as he coldly brushes past the group of young girls that attempt to flock him, offering a hollow, listless excuse and oh, how he hates them, idiots, all of them; it sickens him, how readily the sheep befriend the wolf in disguise. this world is a cruel, awful place. ]

There you are!

[ the one person in this world that means something, the one person that matters. the tails of vincent's long overcoat stream behind him as he breaks into a trot. ]

Try not to look so gloomy, big brother. You'll make it rain.

[chainedraven]

[There were the usual farewells, the exchange of brief wishes for a pleasant summer holiday, but Gilbert has few (if any) that he would truly call "friend" even if he does have several friendly acquaintances. All of them politely flee when Vincent comes into sight, though, especially when he looks as intent as he does now. It takes far braver people to stand against Vincent Nightray and the object of his attention, and so with hasty farewells the others scatter and leave Gilbert to wait.

He, on the other hand, only glances sidelong and gives a resigned sigh as he slouches farther onto the bench where he's perched himself.]

If only it would.

[Then maybe the train would be delayed. Maybe he could put off leaving for a little bit longer.

Certainly, he should be grateful that they'd both been adopted, and by the same family. But he didn't particularly like feeling so obligated, and especially not to them. Plus, that much close contact with Vincent....

Well, it makes him uneasy for reasons and in ways he can't really put his finger on.]

[laceratings]

[ vincent cannot help the vague, triumphant smile that flickers across his face when gilbert's acquaintances dart away from him like so many scattering insects. ]

You can't mean that. Your socks would be soaked!

[ with a huff and a chuckle, vincent drops heavily onto the bench beside his brother, shifting close entirely by rote, because he cannot be close to gilbert without being close to gilbert, and he has long since grown accustomed to his brother's cringing.

he's so downtrodden, far more than usual, so much so that even vincent cannot ignore it, or explain it away, and he is keen enough to understand just why. like gilbert, vincent has no love of their adoptive family - their parents, distant and uncaring, their siblings, spoiled, cruel brats, all of them (he shall repay them in kind some day, some day.. ), but gil has always been far more sensitive, far more fragile, and vincent hates to see him so affected, hates that gil must return to these people who clearly do not see or understand his value.

a sharp smile edges at one corner of his mouth, and vincent glides his fingers over gilbert's wrist, gripping the back of his knuckles tightly, and his smooth voice drops as vincent leans into him. ]

.. don't make that face, Gil.

[chainedraven]

[And cringe Gilbert does, also almost entirely out of habit— he cannot edge too far away, not without sliding off the bench, but he still stiffens and glances around with furtive discomfort in the hope that no one is watching. Their names are in the mouths of the school gossips far too often as it is, and every time Vincent decides to get so close Gilbert is convinced that he'll never hear the end of it.

The present situation does, at least, distract him somewhat from what is to come, the heavy awareness of the inevitable misery of the near future; had he stopped to consider that perhaps his brother's antics were perhaps to that end then Gilbert might have been grateful. But he does not, would not even entertain such an idea, for it is completely foreign to him that anyone would value his existence so highly. He loves his brother and yet at the same time does not, at least partially for fear that he doesn't believe the emotion would be returned in kind. At least... not the same kind.

But any retort he might have made regarding rain and wet socks dies immediately in his throat, his spine stiffening as he freezes in place like a light-struck deer at both touch and tone. Everyone is watching. Everyone must be watching. Why won't the train arrive and save him from at least the public view?]

What face?

[Discomfort makes his tone somewhat sharper than usual, his expression settling into a mixture of discomfort and irritation.]

[laceratings]

[ yes, everyone might be watching, but vincent does not mind, not in the slightest. if anything he revels in it, encourages it. this is mine, he says with every sharp, knowing smile.

mine.

though vincent would not deny gilbert his friendships, his companions, still he feels he must demonstrate this, because they must know, they must know how special he is, they must know what ill might befall them should they ever, ever think of harming gilbert in any way. imagined paranoia, perhaps..

but that is neither here nor there, for vincent. ]

That pouty face!

[ his grip tightens, vincent's slim fingers lacing through his brother's, his chin perched atop his shoulder and his smile plays at hellish innocence. ]

As if the very world is crumbling around your ears. You can be so dramatic, Gil.

[chainedraven]

As if you're one to talk about dramatics.

[It's not so much a snap as it is the verbal equivalent of a sullen pout, though, thus lending more credence to Vincent's description of his brother's slouch. Gilbert can hear it, and that as well as his own awkward uneasiness at the way Vincent is sliding closer still when he has nowhere to go to escape it, only serves to make him all the more annoyed.

He wants to stand up, to push away and storm off down the platform. To find someone to sit with who won't leave him so flustered and childishly angry. And yet he does not. He only sits, tense and rigid as a statue in a posture leaning away from Vincent as much as possible, face set and cheeks flushed.]

And I'm not pouting.

[The sound of the train's engine as it pulls into the station saves him from having to make further reply, at least, though it's an uncertain salvation at best. It only brings the inevitable closer to hand, adding to his misery.]

[laceratings]

I have no idea what you're talking about!

[ with a mournful howl, the train careens closer, steaming and churning as it pulls up to the platform and all at once vincent is detaching, untangling their fingers to pull away and stand, to heft his messenger-style carry-on bag onto his shoulder. it is always with such casual ease that he does these things, as if such closeness is entirely natural, entirely normal, though for vincent it surely is. he knows no other way to exist. ]

Don't get left behind, big brother.

[ though by the look of him, gilbert would prefer nothing more.

but at any rate, vincent turns from him, hiking his bag comfortably higher, and striding toward the hissing train with purpose. surely gilbert could use this time to escape, to slip into another car, another seat, but somehow vincent knows that he will not. ]

[chainedraven]

[Gilbert gives an irritated, almost disgusted grimace at Vincent's response, but chooses to hold his tongue. It's rarely worth the effort to try, especially when his brother is skilled at twisting words around (much as he does other people) to suit his own purposes. He is quite aware that he isn't nearly so clever, and so concedes the battle before it even begins.

Instead he only rises a second or two after Vincent, dragging the strap of his own bag up and over his shoulder as though it weighed several tons, watching his brother's retreating form. He could very well just walk away now. There are so many people milling about on the platform, climbing onto the train, making a confused racket, it would be simplicity itself to feign confusion of his own and end up sitting with someone else. Nobody could fault him. Nobody.

Nobody except himself, perhaps.

It isn't until the train is beginning to pull away from the station, though, that Gilbert finally joins his brother again. He doesn't even look directly at Vincent, however, as he first lets his bag drop and then heavily flops into his own seat with an air of resignation. In the end, there really is no other place for him to go but this one, and he knows it.]

[laceratings]

[ by the time gilbert finally trails into their car, vincent has already made himself comfortable in it, his bag strewn open beside him, his thick, wild hair pulled free of the ribbon that binds it to fall free around his shoulders and back. he is currently scratching his fingernails against his scalp in joyful relief when gilbert at last drops heavily into his seat, his shoulders heavy with defeat.

not for the first, and most certainly not for the last, vincent wonders just how much better off gilbert would have been without him. what a life he could have lived, how peaceful it might have been, how loving and warm, had vincent simply never been born. how much better might he be now, if vincent were to simply .. disappear?

such dark thoughts.. they are hardly infrequent, always scratching at the back of his mind, especially at times like these when gilbert seems especially forlorn. soon enough, he will.. he will..

ah.

a warm smile tugs at his mouth, and vincent stretches his long legs before him, lacing his fingers to stretch them, too. ]

One might think you were being paid, to frown. [ a tilt of his head, and vincent's eyelids lower over his mismatched eyes, and there's an eerie sort of forewarning in his words, though perhaps it might be entirely imagined. ] Don't worry, Gil. It'll be over before you know it.

[chainedraven]

[No matter how he tries to pull away, Gilbert always finds himself being drawn back to his brother again. It could be simply that Vincent is and always has been the one familiar thing in a world where he was set adrift, disconnected from his past and hardly able to connect with his present— for all those he knows and is in contact with, he has formed bonds with very, very few, and those only the most tenuous.

Perhaps there is something in that empty space in his memories that would tell him exactly why. Perhaps not. But his instincts always tell him that it is his duty, as elder brother, to keep watch over the younger. And he has always tried to keep up with Vincent, the perfect, the prodigy, through unending work and effort, so that he may do so.

He slumps into his own seat much as he had the bench on the platform, frowning even more deeply at his brother for a moment before closing his eyes as though to shut everything out for at least a brief time.]

Some of your friends asked me to pass on greetings.

[Among... other comments, some of which still make him blush slightly at the memory.]

You could have joined any of them instead.

[laceratings]

[ vincent watches his brother's face with attentive curiosity, trying to read his expression, to find what lurks beneath his golden eyes but sometimes.. sometimes gil goes to a place that even vincent cannot follow, where the darkness pervades, and obscures. when he falls into these black moods vincent can only guess at why, and generally he is correct, but sometimes he is not, sometimes gilbert buries himself away in it and cannot be broken free.

he hates it. gilbert being out of reach is a thing he cannot abide, it's enough to make his chest tighten with panic, with the urge to grab, to grasp to keep. gilbert is his anchor in life, the point at which everything converges, his single,absolute reason for living. ]

.. I could have.

[ breathe. vincent sits back in his seat, drops his hands into his lap, his eyes still fixed on gilbert's face. ]

But I would rather be here, with you.

[chainedraven]

[For several heartbeats there is no response, almost as though Gilbert hadn't heard, or perhaps dozed off in his seat. Silently he turns those words over in his mind, examining the tone, the content, everything about them, wondering if some meaning lies behind him that he doesn't understand. There is so much that he does not, after all, especially when it comes to Vincent and the family and history he doesn't remember.

Finally his eyes open just a crack, just enough to let him see his brother's expression— though as soon as he notices that Vincent is watching him so intently he shifts, glancing toward the window uncomfortably.]

...why?

[What is it about him that interests Vincent so? He simply doesn't understand, and that only adds to his unease.]

[laceratings]

[ why..

as if it isn't incredibly obvious, as if it isn't so, so simple. simple enough that vincent does not need to lie about it, does not even need to embellish. it is the one and only pure feeling that he has ever known in his life. ]

Why?

[ how can he possibly ask why; it all but makes his heart ache to hear. vincent's expression evens out, his expression strangely tranquil, almost sad, though his smile remains fixed. ]

.. because you are my brother, and I love you. Why else?

[chainedraven]

[The words are entirely logical, certainly. It's the kind of thing that one might expect brother to say to brother, and yet— somehow Gilbert didn't expect such a thing of Vincent. Not Vincent, not toward him. There's no reason for him to be considered important in anyone's eyes, much less his so-popular and talented brother. There is nothing about his company that could be of interest, especially when he's in as foul a mood as he knows himself to be today of all days.

The simple sincerity in the tone of the statement, however, convinces him outright that it must be true, that there is no lie in what Vincent says. Instantly ashamed, regretting the impulse that made him question his brother's motives, Gilbert grimaces and closes his eyes again, somehow managing to slouch even more in his seat. Once again, he can do nothing right, no matter how he tries.]

...ah.