#and broke bread with. Cherish the stars and the light they bring with you into the dark.

[feenabraveheart]

You are [][][][][] '[][][], born a children of the Sands. You grew up tussling and scrapping with the other kids, days spent fetching water from the oasis or scouting for sand worms. Children were lighter on their feet, making it harder for the sandworms to notice your approach. The days were long and the sun was harsh, beating mercilessly down on you, just like how your dad beat the survival and hunting skills into you. Might makes right, he would often say. Become the best hunter first. Then you can be whatever you want to be, wear whatever you want to wear.

You are a young Miqo'te from Southern Thanalan. You took the first ride possible out of Forgotten Springs, perched up on a stack of cargo that tower against the sky. Other hunters prefer to stick to the ground, to better feel the vibration of the sand on their bare soles, but you've always opted for a higher vantage point, choosing instead to nail the prey with a throwing dagger the moment it tries to surface. It's an escort, a long road ahead of them to Gridania, with a nervous driver and a motley crew of hired mercs. They eye you up and down curiously at first, asking questions like "Do all tias here 'ave long hair?" and "so are ye a lass or a lad?". You shrink into yourself initially, but bravely answer their questions head on, your voice quivering. They look at each other, and nodded, and that was that.

That night, they shared their bread with you, and you gave them some sandworm jerky in return. The Hyur made such an incredible face after her first bite that you couldn't help but laugh. The camp followed suit. Then it's their turn to laugh at you when you got your first taste of orange juice. Conversation continued late into the night, until Menphina graced them with her gentle glow. You have the first watch of the night, paired up with the quiet Roegadyn who never much spared you a glance the entire day.

You stare quietly into the darkness beyond the campfire's reach, looking for any sudden movements out of the ordinary. The only sound you can hear is the gentle crackling of the fire, and the driver's snoring. 

The Roegadyn quietly began to speak. Barahearz was his name. He spoke of the lands beyond the desert, of oceans (bodies of water so large they're like a desert for water), of mountains, of snow. Of forests, of plains, of people and creatures both. He wove a fantastical landscape, of cities with spires so tall they seem to caress  the stars, of waterfalls so large cities are built atop of them. You sit there with your mouth open, your duty as a guard long forgotten. You listen and he speaks, in that low, gravelly voice of his, never once looking at you. You realize now, in the dark clear night of the desert, his eyes are bright and twinkles, no less brilliant than any stars in the sky. What you didn't realize until much, much later is that you yourself also have those eyes.

"I think it'll do ye much good to go see the world. See all there is to see, feel all there is to feel. 'Reckon ye would learn lots, and then maybe ye can find out what ye want to become." He concluded. 

What Barahearz didn't know, was that you have already began to realize what you want to become. By being born as something you never asked for (in fact, you don't think you've ever asked to be born in first place), the gaping hole in your childhood has taught you much of what you are not. You're a '[][][], yet you never wanted to be one. You wanted to join the girls, grow your hair long and wear colorful garbs just like them. 

And you told him as much.

Barahearz was silent for a long time after that. 

The escort breaks at a small outpost, nested inside a hollowed out rock formation. Little Ala Mhigo, they called it. A home away from home for those who couldn't adapt to Ul'dahn customs and rejected by the Elementals of Gridania, the cenote opens up to a bright, starry sky. You helped a local lady slay a rockskin peiste for its poison sac. She hands you a vial of the poisoning concoction she made as thanks, as well as a small tub of dye. Colibri pink dye, she called it. Named after the color of a cloudkin. You begin to fish out your wallet, but she waved you off. 

"I've heard your tale from your friends. Your lot could do with a splash of color! Ask - whatshername - Adalind! Ask her to teach you how to use it. She would know!"

And for the first time in your life, it was a haircut you didn't dread having. Adalind had gratefully listened to your wishes, and taught you how to style your hair - a ponytail, simple but effective at keeping the long hair out of the way in battles. She also helped cut your bangs, and taught you how one would color hair. Cold water only from now on! She says to you. Not that you've ever imagined boiling precious water up for a wash, but you engrave her teachings into your heart anyway. 

That night, you came back to camp with a new haircut. The Hyur slaps your back heartily, seemingly pleased with herself. Finnea was her name - she's been this way before, and you later find out over dinner that she's taken the liberty to arrange that little side quest for you. Of course, she chuckles, if you couldn't slay the pieste, you wouldn't get the prize. From then on, she would teach you how to dress, how to talk, how to do your hair. A thousand social cues and customs you needed to learn again, from the ground up. But you are nothing if a quick learner, when the subject interests you at least, anyway.

The escort arrives at Ul'dah, and you get a day's worth of rest as the trader goes about his job, before the group resumes the trek to Gridania. You wander the city, eye trying to wander as much as you can. The sight and smell and sound is almost overwhelming, but you greedily absorb it all, like the coarse sand of the desert. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice a medicine merchant leering at you, his smile unnaturally wide.

"Hehehe... Why hello there, lass. Care to make some easy gil?"

You smile politely at him. Is this one of those swindles you're supposed to report?

He offers you coin in exchange for your services as a courier. Before you know it, a phial of precious liquid is in your hands, and the merchant's grin has taken on a hungry, expectant quality. You were to deliver this to a "diminutive gladiator" waiting on the Steps of Nald. You know you shouldn't accept, but you're curious nevertheless as to where this will lead. So off you go.

The Lalafellin gladiator receives you with unadulterated joy, babbling about the alleged transformational wonders of this medicine. A mysterious brew called "Fantasia", he explained excitedly. Drink it before lying down for the evening. and you can awaken as a new man - or a woman! 

....It seems too good to be true.

Or is it?

"Every last gil accounted for. I knew you'd be right for the job. Now for your payment..."

You blinked. Before you knew it, you're back in front of the suspicious merchant (scammer?). The man receives his coin payment with satisfaction when you both notice a burly Hyuran gladiator waving in your direction. You squint at him. Hard to smell people in this crowded city, but something familiar about the way he waves his hand. Almost like someone of a much smaller stature who you just bid goodbye to less than five minutes ago.

....????

You turned back to the suspicious (?medicine?) merchant, bewildered. He looks at you and gives another one of those leering smile. Gods, it would be much easier to trust this man if he worked on that suspicious smile. 

He hands you a phial bearing the same liquid, urging you to try it for yourself, before vanishing into the crowd. So you stand there, in the middle of Pearl Lane, hand cradling a blue phial of unknown origins. It seems to wink at you.

The escort group was initially confused when a Miqo'te lass approached them, and introduced herself as the selfsame hunter that joined the group from the Southern desert. When you explained what happened, Finnea scolded you. Don't drink just about anything random people offers! She smacks you over the head twice, before delivering a crushing hug. Warmth floods you, and tears pinpricks everyone's eyes.

A new name would be good, Barahaerz told you, as he hands you a plate of food. They're at the Quicksands, celebrating your successful fantasia. The results are as real - and permanent - as they come. This was no mere glamour change, after all. You nod thoughtfully. Your happy celebration is interrupted when Finnea barges into the bar and drags you to the Weavers' guild, hells bent on getting a new outfit fit for a Miqo'te lass, in her own words. You laugh and laugh (you dimly notice how much more have you laughed since waking up from that sleepless night), and acquiesce. Maybe coming up with a name can wait.

[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]

You are Feena Braveheart, Traveler of the Stars, Seeker of the Beyond, Scion of the Seventh Dawn. You have long since casted your sunborn name aside, buried it under the gentle sands of the Sagolii desert. You are mindlessly collecting your essentials as you prepare for another adventure. The astrolabe, the cards, the backup deck, a compass tuned to your house, a sextant. Two day's worth of food hastily grabbed from the pantry and shoved into a small roll that is your tent.

It's late (you are no stranger to operating in these hours) and you're bone tired (also not a stranger to that), but you feel restless. So you gather your things, and set off. Time and time again, you will set off, and come home, only to begin the cycle again and again and again.

For you are a traveler, are you not?

[wissbby]

Boyfriend head-canon - Oikawa Tо̄ru

⤙ Summary: basically, a head-canon about how I imagine Oikawa in a relationship. ⊹ Genre: fluff, smut and a tiny bit of angst ⊹ Word count: 1779 ⊹ Warnings: NSFW ⤙ Author’s note: this head-canon is a bit bigger than I anticipated. I still feel like I’m missing so much more so I might edit this in the future and add onto it. For now, I hope you just enjoy it :)

So, let's say you and Oikawa got together.

I don't see Oikawa as someone who opens up easy. It takes the man a lot of time and trust so you'll have to be patient if you want to develop a relationship with him.

You must've been (very very good) friends before he even sees you as a potential significant other. 

I've seen a lot of Haikyuu fans bashing on the man because of that one scene with Kageyama. They don't realise that Oikawa was at his lowest point during this moment and was overall just doing very, very bad. 

It's also a scene where we get to see Oikawa's fakes finally breaking down. 

You need to show Oikawa you're there for him, even if he pushes you away at the very beginning.

He's afraid to show you his insecurities, even if you're already aware of them in the first place. 

He's just so so afraid of losing you. He’s afraid you’ll leave him behind once you get to see the other -not so pretty- side of him.

So, try to break him,

in a good way, of course.

Also, give him a lot of space. And by this, I mean, give the man attention but let him do his things like he always has done. 

Even though you're now his partner, Oikawa is still selfish in that perspective. He won't try his hardest best to change his schedule for you.

You know volleyball is important to him, right? So you must understand why he won't do so.

Trust me,

He'll come back running once he realises this kind of behaviour was the exact reason his ex broke up with him.

"I'm so sorry. It's just- I'll try harder."

And if Oikawa says so, he really means it. This man keeps his promises, I'll give him that.

He's just very insecure about a lot of things, though he might not show that side of him immediately. 

If you've come across the point where Oikawa fully knows he's accepted by you, he'll show you his true colours. 

Expect him to break down in front of your -yet to be opened- front door. 

Just take the man inside and comfort him. 

He likes to be pampered.

Now, onto a bit more fluffy stuff.

This man is one hundred per cent the affectionate type. 

If he wants to feel your skin, he will do anything in his power to do so. 

Out in public but suddenly craving you? He's kissing your forehead and pushing you against his chest while holding your waist with his right arm and intertwining your hands with his left hand.

Together in one's bedroom? He'll either plop on top of you, burying his head into the crook of your neck with his body all over yours or will push you against his chest and let you rest your head in the crook of his neck while running his hands slowly through your hair until he hears your evening breaths. 

He just likes to know you're still there with him. 

Sorry buddy's, it's the insecurities.

It's also a way of apologising for the time he loses with you because of volleyball. He tries his hardest best to make the time you two have unforgettable.

If he finally got a day off, he will one hundred per cent take you on a date. 

Expect this man to go all out.

Clothes, shoes, accessories, oh yeah, and the date itself too

He almost forgot about that, but let's ignore that for now 

Okay, so these are the type of dates he would definitely take you on,

Coffeeshop dates, picnics, star-gazing, home-theatre.

Let me explain each date

Coffeeshop dates: it has to be one of those cosy, very warm atmosphere shops. He likes to see a lot a brown, dark green, some orange and of course, plants. It's an aesthetic the pretty setter loves to be surrounded by to unwind from everything going on. 

It's also a perfect colour palette for his Instagram feed.

He'd wear a grey sweater with vinyl pants and -of course- wear his glasses to add to the look. 

This mf is actually blind without them but only wears them when they match his outfit. 

Anyway, 

Picnics: Oikawa would take care of everything. The only thing you need to do is just be there. He likes to lay down with you, telling you about his day/week. The pretty scenery above your heads and in front of you keeps amazing him. He will never get tired of the prettiness Mother Nature offers. Bonus!! Bring him milk bread and he’ll spin you around before settling you back on the ground and pecking your lips ever so slightly.

Star-gazing: I see Oikawa as an intelligent human being. Besides that, he is very curious about various things. He almost always has a question about something. If he feels romantic or just simply wants to see you, he’ll call you when the sun has set, telling you he is waiting for you outside. I know for a fact that this dude has some secret hide-out since he was a child. He hasn’t shared it with anyone, not even Iwaizumi, because it was his spot to completely shut the outside world out. He really doubted whether he should tell you about it or not. But, he wanted to show you himself, all of him. He loves you too much to let you be apart of that “outside world”. Arriving at the spot, he would lay down with you in the tall grass, eyes immediately fixating on the bright stars. He would point out the zodiac signs, telling you some facts about his sign and yours (yes, he did his research). On the court, Oikawa feels big. He feels big with his team and is not afraid to lose if it were with them. But now that he lays underneath the big open sky, he realises how tiny he is in this universe. He starts to think about how lucky he is to have met you in this big universe. Expect some sappy shit and maybe some tears if he feels vulnerable. 

Home-theatre: sometimes, it’s better to stay indoors with your loved one. And Oikawa completely agrees with that. After a long week of school or work he just likes to unwind. Now, he would invite you over. And girl- when I tell you what he did. You didn’t exactly expect a fort in front of his television. But then again, we are talking about Oikawa here. It’s adorable, though. There are fairy lights all over the place, candles lit and an unnecessary amount of pillows and fluffy blankets. You both lay down and pick a movie. Settling on “Ponyo” because Oikawa once mentioned the drawing style makes him feel at ease. This man has one of his arms either wrapped around your figure or intertwined his fingers with you. He prefers to have you cuddled into him, whether that be spooning or laying on top of his chest. He just likes to keep you close. It’s these moments Oikawa cherishes the most: the domestic ones. 

Let’s hope I fed you enough fluffy content because I’m ready to flip the switch once again. 

Like I mentioned before, Oikawa is a curious man. 

And this also applies to kinks.

I know for a fact he is not scared to try out new things. He just wants two things: trust and honesty.

He wants you to trust him and trust you. He also wants you and him to be as honest as possible.

Do you not like something even though he seemed to be into it? Tell him, he wants it to be as equally enjoyable for you as it is for him.

Now, I’ve seen a lot of headcanons telling Oikawa is a switch with sub tendencies. 

I’m only gonna have to agree on the first part.

This kid is, indeed, a switch. However, he is more of a switch with dom tendencies, in my eyes.

Big on praise, like, very big. 

Secretly likes receiving more than giving, but you never heard that from me.

He also is into slight bondage. Handcuffs, ropes etc.

He likes to tie you up and block your sight. It makes him feel in control. 

Also, the way you squirm whenever he’s breathing or whispering into your ear when you least expect it, gets him rock hard every time. 

However, do the same to him and he’ll obey.

After being the fattest brat ever, of course.

#pegoikawa2020

Some other kinks he has are breath play, cockwarming, degradation, role-play, overstimulation, pain, food-play, stockings, cute lingerie and sadism.

(There are so many more kinks he likes and I want to go into detail about all of these but this shit will get too long so I won’t. Request if you want to see what I’d say about his kinks.)

He can go all out. 

But Oikawa prefers the more gentle sex where you just take time to enjoy each other’s carcasses. 

Is super vulnerable whenever that happens and has indeed broken down a couple of times during the act.

He can’t help it: he loves you too much that he can’t even keep on that facade anymore.

Aftercare with this baby is so cute. 

If the previous moments were a lot rougher, he likes to check up on you and praise you for your work. 

However, he gets you a glass of water and a towel to clean up the mess every time. 

When taken care of, he likes to plop down and just hold you as close as possible. Usually runs his fingers through your hair to confirm you’re still there with him. 

Falls asleep real quick, ngl

If I can give you a piece of advice: get up the morning after to make him breakfast

It’s something small but Oikawa really feels loved whenever he’s taking care of

Asks you to take place beside him and shares his breakfast with you

Yes, he is the type to put food into his mouth and share it with you with the help of a kiss that transfers the piece of food into your own mouth

Mornings like these are intimate and Oikawa cherishes them the most

Usually followed by just a lazy day of enjoying the presence of one another and probably some romance anime or Black Mirror binge watch.

Overall, this baby needs a lot of reassurance in his relationship. Let him know you’re there and won’t leave him (one of his, if not biggest, insecurities). Make him feel loved and let him take his time to warm up to you. Oikawa is worth the wait.

Bonus!!

Iwaizumi is so very glad to see his best friend happy. He’s very grateful you two have met. Will never not show you how much he appreciates him.

“Thank you for loving him, Y/n-san,” Iwaizumi would say, voice lowered in hopes his friend wouldn’t be eavesdropping.

“Iwa-chan! Are you flirting with my girlfriend?”

“Shut up, shittykawa! You don’t deserve someone as good as her!”

He’s just happy his best friend is finally able to share his insecurities with someone he loves so much.

You’re a blessing to the both of them. 

[antihero-writings]

The Simplest Gifts Chapter 2: Bound by a Wish—Pandora Hearts Fic for Phmonth18 Week 4, Prompt 2: Wish (Full Chapter)

Fic Title: The Simplest Gifts

Fic Synopsis: Christmas may not be the happiest time for the Children of Misfortune, still, sometimes it’s the simplest things that can bring joy

Chapter Title: Bound By a Wish

Character Focus: Vincent

Chapter 2: 

“Close your eyes. Now...make a wish!”

“I just want you to have a good Christmas, Vince!” 

Gilbert, brushing off a place on the snowy cobblestones, sat down beside his brother, handing him a piece of the bread he had spent much of the evening trying to steal.

 He wore a smile, but his eyes were tired.

Do you really mean that, Gil?

There was a new cut on Gil’s leg since that morning, his raggedy cloak was even dirtier than before.

Vincent had learned to stop asking; Gil often lied and said the cuts and bruises meant nothing, or, if he told the truth, it just made Vincent feel bad.

He was so small, so young. They both were. To be this alone, this wanting. They didn’t deserve this.

Just because of his stupid red eye.

Vincent took the bread, brushing his hair over that curse.

He didn’t deserve this. 

His brother didn’t deserve this. 

It was clear he didn’t know it, but Gilbert’s words were like daggers to Vincent. Though he might have meant them to be encouraging, they dove straight for his heart.

I just want you to be happy.

I just want you to have a good Christmas.

Sharp pains straight for the beat.

Because, how could he? How could he have a good Christmas when they had nothing? When they could watch other kids ice skating, having snowball fights, eating candy canes, pressing their noses against shop windows, pointing at the toys and saying I want this for Christmas, Mommy!

Watch, and watch them go by. Never to join the games. No one to turn to who would buy them the things they wanted. No one to turn to. Not even a family, a nice fire to warm up by, or a Christmas dinner. They had to start asking for smaller, insignificant things—things they could actually receive.

They started asking for only each other's happiness.

And it was still too much to ask.

How could he be happy when he knew there was no way Gil could be?

I just want you to have a good Christmas, Vince.

Did he really mean that? 

Was that the only thing? No toys in the shop windows? Not even a decent meal? A bit of warmth from the cold?

Surely he didn’t.

How could his happiness be enough?

Because he, Vincent, was the only thing keeping Gil from a normal happy life. If he just left him he’d be able to find a home, a family. Without him, their parents probably wouldn’t have abandoned him. Gilbert would be having a nice Christmas, opening gifts, eating cookies, by a cozy fire. He could be one of those kids with the rosy cheeks, and the spoiled rotten hearts.

If it weren’t for me.

Vincent was Gilbert’s chain. Tethering him to the gutters, the harsh words, and even harsher world. Without him, the world would surely be soft and cushioned, not full of sharp edges.

But if Gilbert just broke the link, he could still have that life, if he just left him behind...

Please don’t leave me behind, Gil.

The stars were especially bright that night. Cold shining speckles in a navy coat of sky.

Maybe it was fitting. It was Christmas Eve after all. Maybe the stars were trying to tell them that hope was not lost, that light remained.

Or maybe they were just a bunch of stupid lights, too far away to grant them any warmth. 

He didn’t think he could ever find his way by them, by something so far from earth. Maybe they were just a bunch of shiny trinkets beneath someone else’s Christmas tree, candles on someone else’s mantle piece, and if he reached out to touch them they would turn to coal.

He saw that kind of light in his brother’s golden eyes too. Hope, keep going, we’ll make it through this, surrounded by the dark.

Which would win out in the end? The darkness of the light? Black or white? Navy or gold? The stars, or the spaces in between?

If Vincent reached out to touch his brother…would he ruin him too? 

“Something wrong, Vince?” 

Those eyes. Shimmering gold. Unending black.

Vincent clung to him all the same.

“Nothing, Nii-san! I’ll be happy this Christmas as long as you’re happy!”

“Okay....Open your eyes!”

As Jack pulled his hands from Vincent’s vision, the world was so bright it was almost blinding.

A Christmas tree—tall as 3 Jacks—was the centerpiece of the atrium, ascending alongside the staircase, to the ceiling. Tinsel spun and weaved its way around its boughs, and ornaments shimmered like sunlight on ocean waves. Presents littered the base, a little moat of jewels and dare he ask? 

“Are...are those for…us?” 

His voice was a tiny, shivering thing.

For, surely they weren’t. 

Surely after all this time those glittering boxes couldn’t be for the the children who had nothing, who had never been given a gift in their life. 

All that gold. 

Like the stars. Like Jack’s hair, and Gilbert’s eyes. Like Vincent’s eye—the one that wasn’t corrupted by the color red. 

A thing like him didn’t deserve gifts. They would surely rot beneath his gaze.

Although…red was there too. Many colored wrappings, holly berries, and ornaments…red and green, gold and silver. 

Why would they put red in the midst of all that gold? Why would they infect the lively green, the rich silver, with the violence of red?

Did they not know the nature of such a color?

Surely they weren’t for him, no. They would be for the servants before they were for him.

“Nope,” Jack grinned mischievously, “they’re alll for me!”

Glen rolled his eyes before wordlessly kneeling down to pick two up, handing one to each of the children.

To Vincent, the tag read.

And the other, To Gilbert.

Before he even opened it, Vincent’s hands started to shake, and he felt his eyes burning with tears.

For me?

Such a simple thing. Such a small question.

Such a big gesture.

How could he believe that?

Still, it was written there in pretty curly letters.

The other three turned to him, eyes wide.

How could they want to give him anything? How could any of them care so much as to give something of themselves away to him? How could he hold the piece he received, be careful, cherish it, never let it break? How did they know he wouldn’t just destroy it, like he did all the lives around him?

“What’s wrong Vince?” Gilbert’s worried voice cut in.

I just wish this could last forever.

"Earth to Vince!” 

“Ohh Sewer Rat~!” 

As Vincent looked up from his sort of trance, he saw his brother’s concerned face—older now, less small, less dirty and weak, but also he…smiled less, now, somehow. Then he shot a nasty look at the Hatter, (who smiled pleasantly), before silently reading the tag on the present in his hand.

To Vincent, Love Gilbert.

Even now, the question ran through his brain; Do you really mean that, Gil?

He glanced up at the room. At the assorted mix of people, from different dukedoms. He and Gilbert were standing in the doorway (Echo in the hallway behind him), like he didn’t quite belong, like he wouldn’t quite fit in with the rest of them, like his dash of red wouldn’t fit in with their own little golden world.

He’d come to give Gilbert his gift, and be on his way. That was all. He didn’t intend to stay.

And by the sharpness to the Hatter’s eye, and his brother’s embarrassed glances, he knew he wasn’t wanted.

He didn’t want to ruin his brother’s day. All that mattered was that Gilbert was happy, even if he wasn’t a part of that happiness.

Still, his brother had decided to give him a gift, despite how Vincent had set his expectations against the possibility, and his protests aloud.

After Gilbert insisted once more, Vincent pulled on the ribbon, opening the box.

A pile of cookies beamed at him. Decorated as snowmen, snowflakes, gingerbread men, and Christmas trees. Some of the decorations, however, were notably more well done than others.

“I made them for you” Gilbert, rubbed the back of his neck abashedly, “I hope you like them.”

“And we helped decorate them!” Alice called, and Oz nodded happily.

Ah, that explained the discrepancy.

Although…he didn’t think that Gilbert’s little posse even liked him, why would they help him decorate a present for him? They probably just thought it was a game or something.

In truth, he wanted them all to be from Gil…

“You can probably guess which one’s from me!” Break sang.

Vincent couldn’t see it, but he surmised he’d probably find a cookie hiding somewhere, decorated in messy red ink that said “die, Sewer Rat, die”, or a snowman caricaturized as him, or a gingerbread man with a stake through its heart…or something like that. He made a mental note to repay him the courtesy later.

“I’ll think of you as I bite their heads off, Mr. Hatter,” he smiled at him.

Break shoved his fork rather forcefully into a pastry, though his expression didn’t falter.

Gilbert seemed like he wanted to scold him—or maybe both of them—but thought better of it.

Still, while perhaps a rather unimpressive present to others, this meant a lot to Vincent.

He never wanted toys—(he always tore up his toys anyways)—or books, or clothes, or even jewels. Since the beginning, all he wanted was for his brother to be happy.

He had always thought that the reason Gilbert had become so interested in cooking was because, back then, they had nothing, not even food. And the thought that he would make something special for him, now that he could, as if trying to reach back in time and give it to his past self…

“I love them Gil, thank you!” he threw his arms around him in a superfluous show of affection.

“Uhh n-no Problem.” Gilbert patted his back awkwardly.

Vincent closed the box and turned to leave, but Gilbert grabbed his shoulder.

“Are you sure you don’t want to...stay?”

“No, no, it’s fine!” Vincent put on that plastered smile, and hit play on his pre-prepared response, “I couldn’t possibly impose on your day.”

“Oh? But you impose on my day all the time. Often by your mere presence.”

He glared at the Hatter again, finishing, “I know when I’m not wanted.”

“Okay well...I hope you have a good Christmas, Vince!” Gilbert gave him a genuine smile.

“I will!” He waved goodbye.

I just want you to be happy, Gil. Even if it’s without me.

Even if I have to erase myself to do it. 

[ilytuan]

Made With Love 「jinyoung」

genre › domestic boyfriend!au ︱ way too much fluff 

pairing › reader ︱ jinyoung 

word count › 1,773

warning › none

synopsis › #MyYouthJinyoungDay

Jinyoung’s eyes were glued to his phone, his eyes flickering between the impasse of text messages streaming in from the group chat with his fellow members. They could be really annoying sometimes, but Jinyoung loved them nonetheless. 

He checked the time, realising that it was in fact, past midnight, meaning that it was now officially his 25th birthday. It would also explain the mass of messages they were sending, Jackson in particular, screaming and exaggerating about how old and mature Jinyoung was getting, and how much he loved him. Wang gae and Park gae lives forever.

But, not that Jinyoung would know. His mind was preoccupied with thoughts of his work, and the messages didn’t seem to be of his understanding. They were all of well wishes but Jinyoung was tired and while they only had good intentions, he couldn’t muster up the energy he needed to reply to them. He could make out some messages, mostly Jackson’s overload of crying face emojis and how he would buy Jinyoung some meat soon, so that they could eat together.

You were on your way home from a long day at work. There had been a fire alarm system installed that day and it went off one too many times, breaking you away from possibly every train of concentration that you had built up and effectively, leaving you to work over time to make up for it all. You had never been more glad to go home, though you were disappointed about the fact that you couldn’t spend the first minutes leading up to Jinyoung’s birthday with him.

The cake you had bought for Jinyoung looked extremely appetising, and you came to the realisation that you had only eaten a mere apple five long hours ago. Maybe Jinyoung would be up for a meal out? Or even a takeaway. Anything seemed to make your mouth water just at the mention of food and you would eat just about anything.

Your message to Jinyoung had sent an hour ago, right as you were finishing up your paperwork, but he had left it unseen, though it didn’t bother you much as you suspected the boys had definitely blown up his phone and yours was probably lost among the chaos. 

Their love for him was truly admirable, and made you laugh at the thought of how much he seemed to hate them, though they were really his most cherished people on earth. Including you, of course.

Arriving home, it was eerily quiet, none of Jinyoung’s usual calm music playing or the night radio and news on. Strange. Had he gone out with the members? 

You placed the cake down onto the kitchen counter, peeling off your painful court heels that had managed to dig into the back of your foot and make a cut, and shrugging off your blazer. All the lights in the house were turned off and thinking that he was gone, you pulled out your present for him from a hidden place, wanting to get it wrapped since you didn’t have the time before.

You left it beside the cake and ventured off to your bedroom to get changed out of the uncomfortably tight skirt you were wearing, startled out of your skin when you found Jinyoung fast asleep on the bed with a book in his hand, a candle being the only thing lighting the room before it flickered and turned to smoke from the force of the door opening. 

He must be tired, you thought. He was breathing heavily, but he looked so adorable, curled up and everything.

Snaking some clothes from your dresser as quietly as you possibly could, you pulled the duvet over him and tried to sneak out, whispering a quiet ‘happy birthday’ that had him stirring awake slightly. In his half-asleep daze, he could just about make out your familiar figure and asked, “did you say something?” He was squinting to adjust to the dark, or maybe he just couldn’t open his eyes fully, but you smiled tenderly.

Not wanting to keep him up since he was obviously tired from having to work and practice so much lately, you shook your head softly, a gentle smile blooming that relaxed him and made him feel warmer, just from the feeling of something so domestic and simple. 

“It can wait until tomorrow,” you said, meaning the morning as it was clearly too late, or early, to be discussing food or celebrating his birthday.

Shutting the door after blowing him a kiss goodnight, you clutched the pyjamas close to your chest, your own eyes seeming to be drooping too. Damn, this atmosphere was totally making you tired too. But, before anything, you really needed to eat. 

Your notorious sweet tooth made an appearance as you searched the kitchen for some food that you could possibly heat up or cook without disturbing Jinyoung, but there wasn’t many options, much less to satisfy your cravings. A can of chopped tomatoes, some onions, cheese and if you squint, some slices of bread that you could salvage. Jinyoung’s birthday cake was looking really tempting, your mouth salivating at the sight and thought of its sweet and delicious glory.

Delivery places would probably be closing up soon, the clock nearing 1am and you didn’t want to be the pesky customer who ordered right as they were closing up, so you settled for some melted cheese on the two slices of bread that you managed to save. Jinyoung’s cake was not supposed to be eaten by you first of all people so, you placed it in the fridge and settled into his side after your stomach was settled a little bit, making a mental note to go grocery shopping tomorrow morning.

Fortunately, you were able to wake up before Jinyoung and go out to buy food and prepare breakfast for him like you had planned. If he had woken up before you, all of your plans would have been screwed but thankfully, he was out like a light, not budging until you nudged him awake to eat a few hours later. Damn, he must have been really tired. You wondered what from.

He looked so cute when he slept. It reminded you of all the times in the past whenever you went to visit him at the studio after he had excitedly called you to hear a song that he had been working on. 

But whenever you did go, usually late at night, he ended up falling asleep on the couch before you arrived, with the song playing quietly on repeat and a soft smile embedded on his lips. He was so adorable when he slept, though it must have been because of how tired he was and how long he spent working on his songs. His dedication was one that you looked up to, even long before your relationship began.

It especially touches your heart when he says that he worked on it for you, excitement and adoration clearly laced through his voice and overpowering the obvious tiredness behind it. He needed to sleep, but he preferred to work on songs that he knew would bring a proud smile to your face. There was nothing he loved more than your smile, though he doesn’t admit it often.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Jinyoung’s honey morning voice broke you away from your thoughts of reminisce. Glancing up at him with reddening cheeks, you smiled sheepishly at him and shook your head to rid of the thoughts. 

That was almost two years ago, and seeing him now, matured and even more skilled in song writing and producing, made you beyond proud of him. He never stopped working or trying to improve himself and now, here he was, still the exact same yet harbouring so much more talent and skill that many were envious of. Hard work definitely gets you places, you thought to yourself, a warm and small smile appearing on your face as you continued to marvel at him.

Jinyoung pointed his fork at you, “what on earth are you thinking about now? Don’t even think about calling me old or halfway to fifty-“ You cut him off with a kiss, stretching over the table and trying to keep your grip steady so that you wouldn’t fall over all the food and the table and make a fool of yourself. It wasn’t what you needed.

“I’m just proud of you.” The smile that appeared to grace his features mimicked yours from just a few moments ago, harbouring the same amount of love and adoration, maybe even more, and Jinyoung stood up, causing you to back away and stand comfortably again. Jinyoung stared at you with an admiring gaze, thinking back to the previous birthdays that he spent with you in a similar way. He wouldn’t give them up for anything.

Both of you had many differences and disagreed on many things but you fit together like puzzle pieces. Perfect for each other. Jinyoung leaned over the table like you did, and kissed you passionately, not caring for the cutlery clattering onto the floor or the glass of water that toppled over and soaked his trousers. 

This was his birthday, and a special moment that only you get to share with him. He wanted to cherish it and hold it dear to his heart, though he had no doubt that you two would continue to do this for a long time.

Pulling away, he connected his forehead with yours, panting slightly from his actions and an angelic laugh spilled past his lips. It baffled him how you were still with him, and more full of love than ever. 

All of his previous exhaustion disappeared the moment he looked into your eyes and he swears he saw stars twinkle and spark in them. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, no matter if he was turning 25, or 50, or even 90. His love for you would stretch over an infinite amount of years.

Remembering what had made him so tired in the first place, he pulled away and rushed to grab his phone, smiling shyly at you as an unfamiliar song started to play and his honey soothing voice entered your system. 

He made a song for you, on his birthday? How much more sweet could this man get? Your eyes held so much respect and awe that he couldn’t stand it and put his forehead to yours again, forcing your eyes closed and both of you stayed like that, listening to his song in peace. God, you loved him so much.

[i-prefer-the-term-antihero]

The Simplest Gifts Chapter 2: Bound by a Wish—Pandora Hearts Fic for Week 4—Prompt 2: Wish (Full Fic)

Fic Title: The Simplest Gifts

Chapter Title: Bound by a Wish

Character Focus: Vincent Nightray, Gilbert Nightray 

Fic Synopsis: Christmas may not be the happiest time for the Children of Misfortune, still, sometimes it’s the simplest things that can bring joy

Notes: 

Merry Christmas!!

Here's some Vince angst XD

Also, this one was edited even faster than the last one, so, once again, please forgive silly mistakes!

Chapter 2: 

“Close your eyes. Now...make a wish!”

“I just want you to have a good Christmas, Vince!”

Gilbert, brushing off a place on the snowy cobblestones, sat down beside his brother, handing him a piece of the bread he had spent much of the evening trying to steal.

He wore a smile, but his eyes were tired.

Do you really mean that, Gil?

There was a new cut on Gil’s leg since that morning, his raggedy cloak was even dirtier than before.

Vincent had learned to stop asking; Gil often lied and said the cuts and bruises meant nothing, or, if he told the truth, it just made Vincent feel bad.

He was so small, so young. They both were. To be this alone, this wanting. They didn’t deserve this.

Just because of his stupid red eye.

Vincent took the bread, brushing his hair over that curse.

He didn’t deserve this.

His brother didn’t deserve this.

It was clear he didn’t know it, but Gilbert’s words were like daggers to Vincent. Though he might have meant them to be encouraging, they dove straight for his heart.

I just want you to be happy.

I just want you to have a good Christmas.

Sharp pains straight for the beat.

Because, how could he? How could he have a good Christmas when they had nothing? When they could watch other kids ice skating, having snowball fights, eating candy canes, pressing their noses against shop windows, pointing at the toys and saying I want this for Christmas, Mommy!

Watch, and watch them go by. Never to join the games. No one to turn to who would buy them the things they wanted. No one to turn to. Not even a family, a nice fire to warm up by, or a Christmas dinner. They had to start asking for smaller, insignificant things—things they could actually receive.

They started asking for only each other's happiness.

And it was still too much to ask.

How could he be happy when he knew there was no way Gil could be?

I just want you to have a good Christmas, Vince.

Did he really mean that?

Was that the only thing? No toys in the shop windows? Not even a decent meal? A bit of warmth from the cold?

Surely he didn’t.

How could his happiness be enough?

Because he, Vincent, was the only thing keeping Gil from a normal happy life. If he just left him he’d be able to find a home, a family. Without him, their parents probably wouldn’t have abandoned him. Gilbert would be having a nice Christmas, opening gifts, eating cookies, by a cozy fire. He could be one of those kids with the rosy cheeks, and the spoiled rotten hearts.

If it weren’t for me.

Vincent was Gilbert’s chain. Tethering him to the gutters, the harsh words, and even harsher world. Without him, the world would surely be soft and cushioned, not full of sharp edges.

But if Gilbert just broke the link, he could still have that life, if he just left him behind...

Please don’t leave me behind, Gil.

The stars were especially bright that night. Cold shining speckles in a navy coat of sky.

Maybe it was fitting. It was Christmas Eve after all. Maybe the stars were trying to tell them that hope was not lost, that light remained.

Or maybe they were just a bunch of stupid lights, too far away to grant them any warmth.

He didn’t think he could ever find his way by them, by something so far from earth. Maybe they were just a bunch of shiny trinkets beneath someone else’s Christmas tree, candles on someone else’s mantle piece, and if he reached out to touch them they would turn to coal.

He saw that kind of light in his brother’s golden eyes too. Hope, keep going, we’ll make it through this, surrounded by the dark.

Which would win out in the end? The darkness of the light? Black or white? Navy or gold? The stars, or the spaces in between?

If Vincent reached out to touch his brother…would he ruin him too?

“Something wrong, Vince?”

Those eyes. Shimmering gold. Unending black.

Vincent clung to him all the same.

“Nothing, Nii-san! I’ll be happy this Christmas as long as you’re happy!”

“Okay....Open your eyes!”

As Jack pulled his hands from Vincent’s vision, the world was so bright it was almost blinding.

A Christmas tree—tall as 3 Jacks—was the centerpiece of the atrium, ascending alongside the staircase, to the ceiling. Tinsel spun and weaved its way around its boughs, and ornaments shimmered like sunlight on ocean waves. Presents littered the base, a little moat of jewels and dare he ask?

“Are...are those for…us?”

His voice was a tiny, shivering thing.

For, surely they weren’t.

Surely after all this time those glittering boxes couldn’t be for the the children who had nothing, who had never been given a gift in their life.

All that gold.

Like the stars. Like Jack’s hair, and Gilbert’s eyes. Like Vincent’s eye—the one that wasn’t corrupted by the color red.

A thing like him didn’t deserve gifts. They would surely rot beneath his gaze.

Although…red was there too. Many colored wrappings, holly berries, and ornaments…red and green, gold and silver.

Why would they put red in the midst of all that gold? Why would they infect the lively green, the rich silver, with the violence of red?

Did they not know the nature of such a color?

Surely they weren’t for him, no. They would be for the servants before they were for him.

“Nope,” Jack grinned mischievously, “they’re alll for me!”

Glen rolled his eyes before wordlessly kneeling down to pick two up, handing one to each of the children.

To Vincent, the tag read.

And the other, To Gilbert.

Before he even opened it, Vincent’s hands started to shake, and he felt his eyes burning with tears.

For me?

Such a simple thing. Such a small question.

Such a big gesture.

How could he believe that?

Still, it was written there in pretty curly letters.

The other three turned to him, eyes wide.

How could they want to give him anything? How could any of them care so much as to give something of themselves away to him? How could he hold the piece he received, be careful, cherish it, never let it break? How did they know he wouldn’t just destroy it, like he did all the lives around him?

“What’s wrong Vince?” Gilbert’s worried voice cut in.

I just wish this could last forever.

"Earth to Vince!”

“Ohh Sewer Rat~!”

As Vincent looked up from his sort of trance, he saw his brother’s concerned face—older now, less small, less dirty and weak, but also he…smiled less, now, somehow. Then he shot a nasty look at the Hatter, (who smiled pleasantly), before silently reading the tag on the present in his hand.

To Vincent, Love Gilbert.

Even now, the question ran through his brain; Do you really mean that, Gil?

He glanced up at the room. At the assorted mix of people, from different dukedoms. He and Gilbert were standing in the doorway (Echo in the hallway behind him), like he didn’t quite belong, like he wouldn’t quite fit in with the rest of them, like his dash of red wouldn’t fit in with their own little golden world.

He’d come to give Gilbert his gift, and be on his way. That was all. He didn’t intend to stay.

And by the sharpness to the Hatter’s eye, and his brother’s embarrassed glances, he knew he wasn’t wanted.

He didn’t want to ruin his brother’s day. All that mattered was that Gilbert was happy, even if he wasn’t a part of that happiness.

Still, his brother had decided to give him a gift, despite how Vincent had set his expectations against the possibility, and his protests aloud.

After Gilbert insisted once more, Vincent pulled on the ribbon, opening the box.

A pile of cookies beamed at him. Decorated as snowmen, snowflakes, gingerbread men, and Christmas trees. Some of the decorations, however, were notably more well done than others.

“I made them for you” Gilbert, rubbed the back of his neck abashedly, “I hope you like them.”

“And we helped decorate them!” Alice called, and Oz nodded happily.

Ah, that explained the discrepancy.

Although…he didn’t think that Gilbert’s little posse even liked him, why would they help him decorate a present for him? They probably just thought it was a game or something.

In truth, he wanted them all to be from Gil…

“You can probably guess which one’s from me!” Break sang.

Vincent couldn’t see it, but he surmised he’d probably find a cookie hiding somewhere, decorated in messy red ink that said “die, Sewer Rat, die”, or a snowman caricaturized as him, or a gingerbread man with a stake through its heart…or something like that. He made a mental note to repay him the courtesy later.

“I’ll think of you as I bite their heads off, Mr. Hatter,” he smiled at him.

Break shoved his fork rather forcefully into a pastry, though his expression didn’t falter.

Gilbert seemed like he wanted to scold him—or maybe both of them—but thought better of it.

Still, while perhaps a rather unimpressive present to others, this meant a lot to Vincent.

He never wanted toys—(he always tore up his toys anyways)—or books, or clothes, or even jewels. Since the beginning, all he wanted was for his brother to be happy.

He had always thought that the reason Gilbert had become so interested in cooking was because, back then, they had nothing, not even food. And the thought that he would make something special for him, now that he could, as if trying to reach back in time and give it to his past self…

“I love them Gil, thank you!” he threw his arms around him in a superfluous show of affection.

“Uhh n-no Problem.” Gilbert patted his back awkwardly.

Vincent closed the box and turned to leave, but Gilbert grabbed his shoulder.

“Are you sure you don’t want to...stay?”

“No, no, it’s fine!” Vincent put on that plastered smile, and hit play on his pre-prepared response, “I couldn’t possibly impose on your day.”

“Oh? But you impose on my day all the time. Often by your mere presence.”

He glared at the Hatter again, finishing, “I know when I’m not wanted.”

“Okay well...I hope you have a good Christmas, Vince!” Gilbert gave him a genuine smile.

“I will!” He waved goodbye.

I just want you to be happy, Gil. Even if it’s without me.

Even if I have to erase myself to do it.