#Vincent || I could lay there forever

[tac-the-unseen]

Slashers getting sick

Michael Myers:

• He's pissed

• How could his body do this to him??

• kinda betrayed ngl

• will refuse medicine

• He's to strong for that 😒

• also it tastes yucky

• your probably gonna have to make him tea with honey if you want to actually help

• coax him into bed with the promise of candy afterward

• that's about all he'll let you do

Billy loomis & Stu macher:

If only stu is sick:

• he will be super clingy

• wants to eat but physically can't

• might just lay in bed crying

• you and Billy sit with him and make sure he sleeps

If only Billy is sick:

• attempts to power through it

• ends up fainting

• you and stu are great care takers

• you two have to dog pile on Billy to make him lay down

If both are sick:

• They kind balance each other out

• Billy wants to get up and move, stu wants to lay down and cuddle

• thank God you have a more than one bathroom

• you have to hide stu's medicine in drinks

• you have to call Billy a chicken to get him to take it

• Both make sad noises until they get what they want

Thomas Hewitt:

• he doesn't get sick often but when he does...oh boy

• this is Texas heat, if any Hewitt is sick you have to but them in the basement

• it's the coldest place in the house

• even then he's gonna have to take off his shirt

• wants chicken and human noodle soup

• he really wants to go up and eat with the family

• it REALLY upsets him that he can't

• please go down stairs and eat with him

Bubba Sawyer:

• tired and sad and doesn't know why

• you have to be the one to figure out he's sick

• he feels weak

• when Bubba gets sick he goes into a depression

• sad babbles as he trys to explain that he has to provide for the family

• he goes to bed when you sternly tell him to go

• you freeze a towel and give it to him

• again he's in Texas

• holding his hand and telling him he'll be better soon helps him trough it

• forehead kisses are ideal for a sick Bubba

Bo Sinclair:

• " Bo you're sick"

• " No I'm not!"

• " go to bed!"

• "No!"

• * almost vomits*

• " ......fine..."

Vincent Sinclair:

• he is one of the only normal ones

• He knows his body's limits and takes care of himself

• He's very grateful that you want to help him

• all he wants you to do is bring him food and cuddle up to him

Lester Sinclair:

• he is the definition of male sickness

• he could cut off his arm and he'll just duct tape it back on

• but as soon as he has a cold he's dying

• looks like a lowly peasant boy asking for bread

• you have to wash him, help him to the bathroom, feed him, all that jazz

• he is forever grateful that he has you

• feels bad that you have to do all that for him though

Billy Lenz:

• if he sneezes he begs you to call in sick at work to take care of him

• "you're fine Billy"

• " No no no no Y/N my tummy hurts."

• " You ate 3 crayons"

Brahms Heelshire:

• cries

• begs for his mom

• He tackles you into cuddling

• he wants grilled cheese and tomato soup

• will fight you if you try and give him medicine

• just put it in the soup and he won't know

Hannibal Lecter:

• he refuses to let you take care of him

• "you'll end up getting sick too."

• Quarantine time

• he does everything himself

• appreciates that you want to help

• lays in bed and reads books

• will give YOU medicine so YOU do t get sick

Thanks for reading <3

You can soooo tell I wrote this two years ago. (P.S. That's why there isn't anything for Will Graham or The Lost Boys.)

[honey-crypt]

ERM HI…. HAHA… I really like ur elliott fics and im wondering,,,,,, *looks at you with HUGE eyes* what if that one scene on Ginger Island where you have the dialogue option to “help him put sunscreen on” turns SPICY… Perhaps with an afab or genderless farmer…. 👁️👁️

Again, i love your stuff and i get super happy to see ur posts on my TL 🐝💕💕 long live the great bee 🤴

(For now i will remain anonymous… 🪳)

a/n: sorry that this took forever! i was in anti-horny mode. nonetheless, i hope you enjoy this fic!

word count: 1.6k

warnings: accidental boner, blowjob, deepthroating, semi-public sex (farmer and elliott fuck in the bathroom on ginger island), cum swallowing, farmer and elliott fail to realize that they're crushing on one another

summary: elliott needs help with applying sunscreen on his back and as his friend, you're more than happy to help! but what happens when you get too close and too intimate with the whole process?

★ the sunscreen incident - elliott x farmer ★

The summer breeze ruffled your hair and the sun beamed down warm rays on your skin, as you walked along the boardwalk to the resort. A rare day off in the summer season warranted a trip to Ginger Island and it seemed that many other residents had the same idea. An assortment of individuals scattered about the sandy beaches of the island, some soaking up rays while others chatted amongst themselves near the crystal clear waters. Your flip flops made contact with the sand and you let out a sigh of contentment, What a nice day.

Yet, out of the blue, your throat tightened and you groaned from the sensation, suddenly parched. Yoba, I need a drink. Thankfully, Gus had set up shop at the rental bar, serving drinks and snacks to the beach attendees. You made a beeline for the bar and greeted Gus with a smile, “Gus, my man, how are you?”

“Oh, (Y/N)!” the bartender flashed you a smile, “Things are well, very busy today. Can I get you a drink? Maybe a snack?” you eyed the menu and pondered your options, “I’ll take a mango smoothie,” you placed your order with Gus. He gave you a thumbs up and walked over to the blender, dumping the ingredients and blending them. Gus poured out the smoothie and garnished it with a little umbrella, “One mango smoothie.”

“Thanks,” you dropped a few G in the bartender’s hands. You took the smoothie and scanned the shore for any good spots to sunbathe. That was when you saw him, Elliott lounging on a striped beach towel with his glorious chest on display for all to see. Your face heated up at the sight and averted your gaze, not wanting to get caught staring at him like a creep. However, Elliott must have caught you anyway when he exclaimed, “(Y/N), my friend! Come here, please!”

You fulfilled his request and approached Elliott, plopping down in the sand next to him, “Hey, Ellie,” the nickname rolled off your tongue cheekily, “Enjoying the weather?” the redhead nodded, his ponytail bouncing with the movement, “Yes, yes, indeed. Despite living on the beach back home, Ginger Island’s waters seem more lively and fresh.”

“You think so?” you eyed the ocean before the two of you and sipped on your smoothie, “I guess it does look clearer than the beach back home,” you watched the people in the water, such as Kent guiding a floatie-wearing Vincent farther into the sea and Leah’s braided hair and snorkel straw poking out above the water. It brought a smile to your face, to see the residents of Pelican Town enjoy the wonders of Ginger Island.

“Oh, (Y/N),” you perked up at the sound of Elliott’s voice. He held out a bottom of sunscreen, SPF 70 to be exact, “Could you do me a favor and apply sunscreen to my back? I burn quite easily and I’m not flexible enough to apply it myself.”

“Of course,” you took the sunscreen and gestured to Elliott to lay down on the towel. He laid on his stomach and pushed his ponytail out of the way, allowing his back to be completely exposed. Your mouth watered at the sight of his toned back, adorn with freckles galore and prominent muscles. You had no clue why he was so in-shape, given his lifestyle of eight hour writing sessions and daily trips to the saloon for his meals. 

“Everything alright?” the writer questioned. You shook off your stupor and replied, “Yes! Just zoned out,” you uncapped the sunscreen and squeezed the white goop into your hands. You leaned closer to Elliott’s back and began applying the sunscreen, massaging it deep into his skin. Elliott let out a soft groan from your motions, He must have a sensitive back. 

“Need me to pause?” you asked. Elliott lifted his head up enough so you could clearly hear his response, “No need, I’m simply tender when it comes to my back. Please resume,” you squirted more sunscreen on your hands and swung one leg over Elliott’s legs, sitting down on his ass so you could get better leverage. 

Elliott let out a squeak of surprise, but quickly settled down and allowed you to resume your work. You continued to massage the sunscreen into his skin, humming a tune to yourself while you did so. Finally, after a few minutes, you finished up and announced to Elliott, “All done!” you hopped off his backside. Elliott turned himself over and smiled at you, “Thank you, (Y/N). I much appreciate it.”

“Of course, no–” you cut yourself short, your eyes locked in on Elliott’s crab-patterned swim shorts. Without realizing, the writer was displaying a proud erection, you held back a squeak of your own and hastily shielded his boner with your body. Elliott tilted his head like a confused puppy, “What’s wrong?”

“Ellie…” you swallowed your spit hard, “You got a, uh… you got a boner.”

Elliott’s eyes widened in shock and immediately covered the tent in his swim shorts with his towel, “Oh, dear! I’m so very sorry, (Y/N). I don’t know why I have one, I must go and take care of that,” with his towel as a shield, Elliott rose from the sand and walked over to the bathroom. 

To both parties’ surprise, you stood up after him and grabbed him by the wrist, “Wait, I…” you stared down at the sand, “It’s kinda my fault you, uh… have that little issue. Do you, uh–” your face was flushed with embarrassment, “I can take care of it.”

Elliott’s jaw dropped at your proposition, his freckled face a lovely shade of tomato red, “Oh! Oh my, I–” he covered up his surprise with a faux cough, “I wouldn’t… be opposed to that. Meet me in the family restroom,” he then entered the bathrooms. You waited a few moments, not wanting to arouse suspicion, before heading inside. Mustering up some courage, you approached the family restroom and opened the door. Inside, Elliott sat on the pull-out chair, towel still covering his boner. You gave him a small wave, “Hey.”

“Hello,” he returned the pleasantries. You walked up to him and removed the towel, staring down at Elliott’s boner. Elliott let out an awkward cough and you broke eye contact with the boner, “Sorry,” you apologized, twiddling your thumbs, “Do you want me… to suck you off?”

“That should do the job,” he answered, “If you’re okay with that, of course.”

“I’m okay with it,” you reassured the freckle-faced man, “Can– Can you pull your shorts down?” the writer nodded in confirmation and slowly slid off his swim shorts, his cock now free from its confinement. You gawked at its appearance, the mushroom tip red and angry with some pre-cum leaking out. It was on the bigger side, maybe six or seven inches, but it was nothing you couldn’t handle. After all, you were referred to as “The Blowjob Master” back in college for your blowjob skills. 

You folded up your towel and made a makeshift pillow, placing it on the water-soaked floor and resting your knees on it. Timidly, you placed your hands on Elliott’s thighs- Yoba, those thighs could crush watermelons- you waved off your horny thoughts and looked up at Elliott, “Are you ready?”

“I am,” he patted you on your head, “Thank you for your help again.”

“Of course, anything for you,” you flashed him a small smile. Taking a deep breath, you grasped the shaft and gave the tip a tentative lick. Elliott stifled back a moan, his face now a deeper red. You carefully guided his cock in your mouth and once inside, you began to suck Elliott off. The writer bit down on his hand to silence his moans while you bobbed your head up and down on his dick. 

Yoba, this exchange felt otherworldly to Elliott, his crush down on their knees and sloppily blowing him. Spit leaked from your mouth and onto the remainder of Elliott’s shaft, coating it in the bubbling substance. With his free hand, Elliott found his way into your hair and tightly pulled at it, earning a moan from you that vibrated down his whole cock. 

Elliott’s eyes rolled into the back of his skull when you managed to find his weak spot, a vein directly under the tip of his dick. You licked and nipped at it, relishing in Elliott’s descent into madness from your cocksucking skills. In one swift motion, you took his full length in your mouth, your nose touching his beautifully manscaped bush. 

Elliott held out a muffled moan and promptly climaxed, shooting ropes of hot cum down your throat and into your tummy. You groaned against his shaft while he orgasmed and as soon as he finished, you pulled yourself off his cock and wiped off any excess cum from your lips. Elliott cleaned off any spit and cum from his now flaccid cock; he then put his swim shorts back on and gave you a relieved smile, “Thank you.”

“Anything for you,” you winked, “I’ll see you outside?” Elliott nodded, “Yes, I just need a moment,” you gave him a thumbs up and exited the bathroom, leaving Elliott to his own devices. The redhead approached the mirror and steadied himself, hands gripping the sink hard.

“I need to buy them flowers as a thank you gift.”

[thequeenofneverland1]

The Hope Of The Mikaelsons Family Part Eleven

Summary: Y/n falls into a deep coma, leaving her family devastated and desperate for a way to wake her. As they grapple with their grief, tensions rise, and they must navigate through their individual fears and struggles while coming together to find a solution. With the help of powerful witches and unwavering determination, they embark on a journey of hope and resilience, refusing to give up on Y/n and the light she brings to their lives. Amidst emotional turmoil and sacrifices, the family's bond is tested like never before as they fight to bring Y/n back from the brink of darkness.

Warnings: Angst and emotional distress, Themes of family dynamics and relationships,Mention of character in a comatose state,potential character death, Use of magic and supernatural elements, Mention of violence and conflict,Character suffering from trauma and emotional turmoil, Overall heavy and emotional themes.

Vincent stormed into the Mikaelson compound, his eyes blazing with anger. The family, still shaken from the previous night's events, turned to face him as he entered.

"I told you all to stay away from each other and from Y/n," Vincent said, his voice cold and accusing. "This is your consequence. Now look at what's happening."

Klaus, holding the unconscious you in his arms, stepped forward, his own anger barely contained. "We couldn't stay away, Vincent. She’s my daughter."

Vincent shook his head. "The Hollow's influence is still strong. Being together like this puts her at risk."

Kol, his voice trembling with emotion, said, "We just wanted to be a family again."

Vincent's expression softened slightly, but his resolve remained firm. "I understand that. But you need to realize the danger you're putting her in.”

Elijah, always the voice of reason, asked, "What can we do, Vincent? We miss her, when is the day going to be for us to be able to be near her?"

Vincent sighed. "You need to find a way to keep the Hollow at bay. Being together like this is too dangerous."

Rebekah's eyes filled with tears. "But we barely got her to talk to us."

Kol clenched his fists. "There has to be another way."

Vincent looked at each of them, his expression a mix of sympathy and determination. "There isn't. Not if you want to keep her safe."

Klaus, his voice breaking, said, "We won't leave her, Vincent. We can't."

Vincent stepped forward, his tone gentler. "Klaus, you need to understand. The Hollow is a powerful force. If it senses that you're all together, it could find a way to reunite within her."

Freya, standing behind her siblings, nodded in agreement. "We'll find a way for them to be her. Even if it means doing something drastic."

Vincent sighed, knowing the family's resolve. "Then we'll need to work together. Carefully. We need to find a way to keep the Hollow at bay without tearing this family apart."

Klaus, holding you close, looked at Vincent with determination. "We'll do whatever it takes."

As Vincent left, the family gathered closer around you. They knew the path ahead would be difficult, but they were united in their resolve to protect you from the Hollow's grasp. They would find a way, together, no matter the cost.

Elijah broke the silence, "We need to stay vigilant. We must find a way to shield her."

Kol nodded, "Whatever it takes."

Rebekah wiped her tears, "We have to be strong. For her."

Freya added, "We'll find a solution. Together."

Klaus, still holding you, felt a mixture of fear and determination. "We'll keep her safe. Always and forever."

The family stayed together, their bond unbreakable, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead to protect you

Vincent's expression darkened further as he realized the gravity of the situation. "The Hollow sensed your connection with her, didn't it? That's why she passed out."

Klaus nodded solemnly, laying you on your bed. "Yes, Vincent. We couldn't stay away. She needed us."

Elijah stepped forward, his voice tinged with regret. "We didn't think..."

Vincent interrupted, his tone firm. "You can't afford to make mistakes like this. The Hollow's presence is a constant danger."

Kol, ever the diplomat, spoke up. "What should we do now, Vincent? How can we protect her?"

Vincent sighed heavily, considering his next words carefully. "For now, you need to keep your interactions with her to a minimum. The Hollow is drawn to your familial bond."

Rebekah's concern was evident as she asked, "Is there any hope of shielding her from the Hollow?"

Vincent nodded, though uncertainty clouded his features. "We'll have to find a way. But for now, we must be cautious. Y/n's safety is paramount."

Kol, frustrated by the situation, muttered under his breath, "This is ridiculous."

Freya, always pragmatic, added, "We'll do whatever it takes to keep her safe."

Vincent looked around at the family, his expression grave. "Good. Stay vigilant. We can't afford any more slip-ups."

The Mikaelsons nodded in agreement, their determination renewed. They knew they had to find a way to protect you from the Hollow's grasp, even if it meant sacrificing their close bond with you for a second time again.

Days stretched into a tense silence as you remained unconscious, your family's worry growing with each passing moment. They took shifts by your bedside, hoping for any sign of improvement.

Klaus, normally stoic, found himself pacing the room, his usual confidence replaced by deep concern. "She has to wake up," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

Hayley sat beside you, holding your hand tightly as tears welled in her eyes. "She's strong," she whispered, her voice shaky. "She'll wake up."

Elijah, ever the pillar of strength, tried to reassure them. "We have to remain patient. She's resilient."

Rebekah, typically composed, struggled to maintain her composure. "We can't lose her again," she said softly, her voice trembling with emotion.

Kol, normally quick-witted and irreverent, was uncharacteristically silent, his concern etched on his face.

Freya, the pragmatist of the family, tried to find a solution. "Maybe we should seek magical help," she suggested, looking around at the others for support.

As days turned into a week, your family remained steadfast in their vigil, hoping and praying for you to awaken, their unity stronger than ever in the face of uncertainty.

The Mikaelsons' worry deepened as two weeks passed with no change in your condition. They continued to keep vigil by your bedside, their anxiety palpable in the quiet moments between whispered conversations and shared glances. Each day without you awakening weighed heavily on them, testing their resolve and unity like never before.

Klaus, normally the one to offer reassurance, struggled to find words of comfort. "She's strong, Hayley. She'll pull through," he murmured, his voice tinged with concern.

Hayley, her eyes filled with tears, held onto your hand tightly. "I can't lose her," she choked out, her voice wavering.

Elijah, his expression grave, spoke softly, trying to maintain hope. "We must believe that she will awaken soon. Her strength has carried her through worse."

Rebekah, wiping away tears, spoke with determination. "We have to keep believing in her," she said, her voice trembling. "She's fought so hard."

Kol, his usual bravado replaced by worry, paced the room restlessly. "We can't just sit here. There has to be something we can do."

Freya, her brow furrowed in concentration, continued to search for solutions. "I'm exploring every magical avenue," she said quietly. "We'll find a way to bring her back."

In the quiet moments between their conversations with you, they shared memories, whispered words of encouragement, and silently prayed for her recovery. Their collective love and determination to see you wake up grew stronger with each passing day, a testament to their unbreakable bond as a family.

Weeks later, Freya and Vincent discovered a complex spell that they believed could potentially awaken you from your unconscious state. The entire family gathered anxiously as Freya prepared the ritual, her hands steady but her heart racing with hope.

"This should do it," Vincent said, his voice tinged with cautious optimism as he watched Freya meticulously set up the spell components.

Freya nodded, her focus unwavering as she channeled her magic into the intricate patterns and incantations. The room filled with a soft, ethereal glow as the spell took effect, and for a moment, everyone held their breath, anticipation hanging heavy in the air.

But as the spell reached its climax, you remained motionless, your breathing steady but unchanged. The glow faded, leaving the room dim and silent once more.

Silence fell over the family as disappointment washed over them. Freya slumped back, exhaustion and frustration etched on her face. "I thought for sure..." she trailed off, unable to finish her sentence.

Vincent placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "You did everything you could," he said quietly, his own disappointment evident.

Klaus stepped forward, his voice hoarse with emotion. "We won't give up," he declared, his gaze unwavering as he looked at you. "There has to be another way."

The Mikaelsons gathered around your bedside once more, their determination to find a way to awaken you stronger than ever, even in the face of this setback.

Desperate for a solution, the Mikaelsons sought out another powerful witch renowned for her skills in healing and restoration. Despite their hopes, even the combined efforts of Freya and the new witch yielded no change in your condition.

The family gathered once more, their faces etched with exhaustion and despair. The new witch, with a heavy heart, shook her head solemnly. "I've done all I can," she said softly, her voice tinged with regret.

Klaus clenched his fists in frustration, pacing the room as he fought to contain his emotions. "There has to be something we're missing," he muttered, his mind racing with possibilities.

Hayley, her eyes red from tears, reached out to hold your hand. "We can't give up," she whispered, her voice trembling. "She's fought so hard."

Elijah, usually the voice of reason, struggled to find words of comfort. "We'll find another way," he said firmly, his determination unwavering.

Rebekah, usually composed, was visibly shaken. "We've tried everything," she said quietly, her voice cracking. "What if..."

Kol, normally quick-witted, remained silent, his worry etched on his face as he watched over his niece.

Freya, exhausted but resilient, refused to accept defeat. "There must be some ancient ritual, some lost knowledge," she said, her voice tinged with determination. "We'll keep searching."

As they faced the harsh reality of their efforts yet again yielding no results, the Mikaelsons remained united in their resolve to find a way to bring you back, refusing to let despair overcome them.

In your dream, you found yourself standing beneath a majestic waterfall, its cascading waters shimmering in the sunlight. The scene was serene and peaceful, a stark contrast to the turmoil your family endured outside her unconscious state.

As you stood there, a gentle breeze kissed your cheeks, and you felt a profound sense of tranquility wash over her. In this dreamlike state, you could hear faint voices, as if they were calling out to you from a distance. Each voice carried a unique tone of love and concern, mingled with tears of hope and despair.

Klaus's voice echoed with a mixture of regret and determination, his words filled with unspoken apologies and promises of renewal. "Come back to us, little wolf," he pleaded softly, his eyes glistening with tears he would never let fall.

Hayley's voice was a soothing melody of reassurance and unwavering faith. "We need you, sweetheart," she whispered, her voice quivering with emotion. "You're stronger than this. Please, come back to us."

Elijah's voice resonated with wisdom and quiet resolve, his words a beacon of stability amidst the storm. "We won't give up on you," he affirmed, his tone unwavering. "You are our light, Y/n."

Rebekah's voice, usually composed, trembled with raw emotion and vulnerability. "You're our family," she choked out, her words laced with a plea for forgiveness. "We need you here with us."

Kol's voice, usually lighthearted and teasing, held a rare seriousness and concern. "Don't make me regret not messing with you," he joked weakly, his attempt at humor masking his fear.

Freya's voice, filled with both determination and desperation, resonated with ancient knowledge and powerful magic. "You are stronger than any spell," she whispered, her words carrying a promise of hope and renewal.

In your dream by the waterfall, you listened to these voices with a sense of peace and warmth, their love enveloping you like the gentle embrace of the waterfall's mist. Deep down, you knew you had to find your way back to them, to the family who needed you strength and light more than ever.

Marcel rushed to the Mikaelson compound, his heart racing with concern as he arrived to find the family gathered solemnly around your bedside. His attempt at levity fell flat as he nervously quipped, "Guess you don't believe in happy endings, huh?"

Instead of laughter, Marcel was met with steely glares and simmering anger from the Mikaelsons. Klaus, usually quick-witted and resilient, shot back with a sharp tone, "This is hardly a time for your jests, Marcel."

Elijah's usually composed demeanor was replaced with a rare display of restrained fury. "Show some respect," he admonished, his voice cutting through the tension in the room.

Hayley, her eyes red-rimmed from tears, spoke up with a trembling voice. "We're doing everything we can," she said, her words a mixture of exhaustion and determination.

Rebekah's usual calm facade cracked, her expression a mask of grief and frustration. "You think this is funny?" she challenged, her voice cracking with emotion.

Marcel, sensing the gravity of the situation, immediately regretted his ill-timed joke. "I... I'm sorry," he stammered, his usual confidence faltering in the face of their collective grief. "I didn't mean..."

Freya, always the voice of reason in times of crisis, stepped forward with a measured gaze. "We're all on edge," she said quietly, her tone a mix of understanding and reproach. "Y/n needs our strength, not our discord."

The tension in the room lingered, the air heavy with unspoken worries and the weight of uncertainty. Marcel, humbled by the Mikaelsons' raw emotions, remained by your bedside, silently offering his support amidst the palpable sense of anguish and hope.

Marcel, sensing the tension in the room after his ill-received joke, quickly added, "I'm sorry. Y/n and I, we used to joke around like that all the time."

His words hung in the air, the silence stretching as the Mikaelsons exchanged glances, grappling with their own grief and frustration. Klaus, his expression softening slightly, nodded in reluctant understanding. "We know you mean well," he acknowledged, his voice tempered with weariness.

Elijah, ever the diplomat, spoke next, his tone measured yet firm. "It's a trying time for all of us," he said, his gaze flickering towards your still form on the bed. "We appreciate your concern."

Hayley, her eyes filled with unshed tears, sighed softly. "We're just worried sick," she admitted, her voice trembling. "Y/n means everything to us."

Rebekah, her composure regained but her eyes still clouded with worry, nodded in agreement. "We'll do whatever it takes," she affirmed, her voice steady with determination.

Marcel, visibly relieved that his apology was received with some understanding, nodded solemnly. "I understand," he said, his voice tinged with regret. "I'll do whatever I can to help.”

Freya, ever perceptive, stepped forward and placed a reassuring hand on Marcel's shoulder. "Thank you for being here," she said sincerely, her voice a gentle reminder of unity amidst their collective concern.

As they stood together in the quiet of the room, the weight of their worry and hope for your recovery hung heavy in the air, a shared burden that bound them together despite their differences.

As the night wore on and exhaustion weighed heavily on the Mikaelson family, Klaus sat on your bed, his gaze unwavering despite the weariness etched on his face. Sensing the need for rest among his siblings and Hayley, he spoke with quiet authority.

"Everyone, go get some sleep," Klaus insisted, his voice gentle yet firm. "You all need your rest.”

Elijah, ever the responsible brother, exchanged a concerned look with Rebekah and Freya. "And so do you, Niklaus," he countered, his voice laced with worry. "You've been here for hours."

Rebekah, her expression a mix of concern and exhaustion, stepped forward. "We'll take over, Nik," she offered, her tone gentle but resolute. "You need a break."

Klaus hesitated, his eyes flickering between his beloved family and the still figure of you lying on the bed. "I'm fine," he insisted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I want to stay with my little wolf."

Freya, understanding the depth of Klaus's resolve and worry, placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "We'll rest easier knowing you're here with her," she said softly, her voice tinged with gratitude.

Reluctantly, Elijah nodded, his own exhaustion evident. "We'll take shifts," he suggested, his tone practical yet compassionate. "We'll all get some rest, so Y/n won't be alone."

With a nod of agreement, the siblings exchanged weary smiles, their bond strengthened by shared concern and the unspoken hope for your recovery. Together, they settled into an uneasy rest, finding solace in Klaus's steadfast presence beside his "little wolf" throughout the long night.

Klaus still sitting on your bed, his eyes fixed on your peaceful face. The room was dimly lit, casting a soft glow around them. He reached out to gently grasp your hand, his touch tender yet filled with the weight of worry and longing.

"Little wolf," He began softly, his voice wavering slightly as emotions threatened to overwhelm him. "You have always been our light, our hope. You must come back to us."

Tears welled up in Klaus's eyes as memories flooded his mind of your laughter, your determination, and the bond you both shared. "We've faced countless challenges together," he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. "But this, my love, this is the greatest trial of all."

Outside the window, a gentle rain began to fall, the sound soothing yet melancholy. He glanced at your peaceful expression, willing you to wake up and return to them. "Do you hear me, Y/n?" he murmured, his voice breaking with emotion. "Please, come back to us. We need you."

In your dream, you found yourself standing by a serene waterfall, the water cascading gracefully into a shimmering pool below. The scene was tranquil, but a sense of unease tugged at your heart. you turned, searching for something you couldn't quite grasp.

As his voice reached you in the depths of your dream, his words echoed softly in your mind. The sadness in his voice resonated with you, pulling you towards wakefulness. Yet, you remained suspended in the dreamlike tranquility of the waterfall, torn between two worlds.

He wiped away a tear that had escaped, his gaze never leaving your face. "You're strong, my wolf," he whispered, his voice a plea and a prayer. "Come back to us. We'll face whatever comes together, as we always have."

The room fell into a hushed silence, broken only by the steady rhythm of your breathing and the soft patter of rain against the window. Klaus leaned closer, his forehead resting gently against your, a silent promise of unwavering love and steadfast hope.

"I'll be here," Klaus vowed softly, his words a whispered mantra against the uncertainty. "I'll always be here."

In both the waking world and your dream, the bond between your father and you echoed with a poignant intensity, a testament to the strength of their familial love.

Hayley tried to smile through her tears as she sat beside your bed, her hand gently brushing a lock of hair from your face. "I needed your uncles' help to drag Klaus out of here," she admitted softly, her voice catching with emotion.

Elijah and Rebekah stood nearby, their expressions a mix of concern and weariness. Elijah nodded solemnly, his hand resting reassuringly on Hayley's shoulder. "He's beside himself with worry," he said quietly, his voice reflecting his own concern.

Rebekah placed a comforting hand on Hayley's arm, her eyes filled with sympathy. "He won't leave her side," she murmured, her voice tinged with sadness. "None of us will."

Hayley wiped away a tear that slipped down her cheek, her gaze never leaving your peaceful face. "She's our little fighter," she whispered, her voice trembling with a mixture of fear and hope. "She'll come back to us. She has to."

Outside, the soft patter of rain continued, a backdrop to their shared vigil by your bedside. Together, they remained, united in their love and determination, willing you to wake from your slumber and return to the embrace of your family.

Rebekah stood beside your bed, her hand gently brushing against your forehead. She sighed softly, her eyes fixed on your peaceful face. "I need my Klaus Jr. back," she murmured, her voice tinged with both affection and concern. "You're just like your father. When you grow up, everyone will be scared of you."

A small smile tugged at the corners of Rebekah's lips as memories of Klaus flooded her mind his fierce loyalty, his unyielding determination, and the unmistakable charisma that both drew people in and kept them at a distance. "But you have a kind heart, little one," she continued, her voice filled with a mixture of pride and sadness. "Don't let the darkness consume you like it did him."

Outside the window, a gentle breeze rustled the curtains, casting dappled shadows across the room. Rebekah leaned closer, her hand tightening slightly around you as if willing you to wake up. "We need you, Y/n," she whispered, her voice barely above a breath. "Come back to us."

Rebekah's gaze lingered on your face, her thoughts a whirlwind of emotions, hope, fear, and an unspoken plea for you to awaken from your slumber. She straightened, her resolve firm. "We won't give up on you," she vowed quietly, her words a silent promise to you.

In this moment, Rebekah expresses her love for you and reflects on the similarities she sees between you and Klaus, while also acknowledging the importance of your own path and choices.

Elijah sat on your bed, his expression a mix of tenderness and concern as he held your hand. "You're like Klaus's twin in so many ways," he mused softly, a faint smile touching his lips. "Let's hope you'll be much nicer, though," he added with a chuckle, his voice carrying a hint of playful optimism.

He glanced at your peaceful face, his thoughts drifting to memories of Klaus, the turbulent past, the battles fought, and the transformation brought about by your presence in their lives. "I hope you don't bring us trouble like your father used to," Elijah continued, his tone gentle yet earnest. "But you've changed Klaus and the rest of the family for the best. You brought us hope, Y/n. You're our hope."

Elijah's gaze softened as he spoke, his belief in your resilience and strength evident in his words. "Stay with us, little one," he whispered, his voice carrying a silent plea. "We need you here."

In this moment, Elijah reflects on the impact you have had on the family, acknowledging both your similarities to Klaus and your unique qualities that bring hope and positivity to their lives.

Kol sat beside your bed, staring down at your face with a heavy heart. It had been weeks but you still hadn't woken up. Kol knew that he should be patient, but he was growing increasingly worried.

"Y/n," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "We need you. I need you. I miss your smile and your laugh, and all the trouble we used to get into together."

Kol reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair away from your face. "Please wake up," he pleaded. "I can't do this without you. You're my prankster buddy, and I don't know what I'd do if I lost you."

Kol could feel tears streaming down his face as he sat in silence, waiting and hoping that you would open your eyes and return to them.

Freya sat down beside your bed, her eyes wet with tears. She could feel the weight of the family's grief and worry pressing down on her, and she knew that they were all struggling without you.

"Y/n," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "We haven't lost hope, because you are our hope. Without you, everything feels so dark and empty. None of us have smiled or laughed since you've been gone, and even eating feels like a chore."

She took your hand in her own, squeezing it gently. "We need you to wake up, Y/n. We need your light and your joy to bring us back to life. Please, come back to us."

She could feel her tears falling onto your hand, but she didn't bother to wipe them away. She just sat there, holding onto you and praying that you would open your eyes.

As weeks turned into weeks, Vincent and a witch named lovely worked tirelessly in the Mikaelson house to create a spell that would wake you from your deep slumber.

"I think this might finally work," Vincent said, his eyes bright with hope.

Lovely shook her head, her expression grim. "Do you really think it's worth all this effort?" she asked. "Maybe it's time for the Mikaelsons to give up. Y/n isn't waking up, and maybe it's best for them to let her go."

Vincent's eyes darkened, and he fixed lovely with a hard stare. "Shut up, Lovely. You have no right to say that. The Mikaelsons never give up hope, especially when it comes to Y/n. She is their hope, and we will not stop until she is back with them."

Your family escorted lovely out of the house, Klaus spoke up. "Lovely, your lack of faith in our family is deeply disappointing. Y/n means everything to us, and we will not give up on her, no matter how long it takes. It would be best if you left and never returned."

Lovely’s face was a mask of indignation. "You're making a mistake," she said, her voice dripping with contempt. "You're all just wasting your time on a lost cause."

Klaus's eyes flashed with anger. "You don't get to decide that," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "Get out of our house before I change my mind and do something I might regret."

Lovely opened her mouth to say something else, but Rebekah stepped forward and slammed the door in her face.

The siblings and Hayley turned to look at each other, their expressions grim but determined. They would find a way to save you, no matter the cost.

Klaus stood by your bedside, his heart heavy with sorrow. He gazed at your face, willing for you to return to them. “I can no longer do this without you,” he pleaded softly, his voice cracking with emotion. “I need you. Please, my little wolf, come back to us. You’re the light of our family. Please, I beg you.”

A tear rolled down Klaus’s cheek as he leaned forward, his forehead touching you gently. His breath hitched as he waited, praying for a miracle.

Then, your eyes fluttered open. You blinked in confusion for a moment, registering Klaus’s presence beside you. Recognition dawned in your eyes, and a small smile tugged at your lips despite the weakness.

“Dad,” you whispered hoarsely, your voice barely audible but filled with love and relief.

[all-hail-the-crows]

Watch this

GN, NSFW, 18+, exhibition kink, written in second person

Random match up between a theme and a slasher I write for, for Kinktober

Your eyes were glued to the road, just waiting for headlights to light up the path. Waiting to be discovered.

Callosed , yet so gentle, hands ran up your sides, over your chest, moving up to caress your neck and cheeks. All while Vincent gently thrust in and out of you, his movements slow and purposeful, just forceful enough to make you bite your bottom lip and groan as you leaned back into him. He felt so good, his touch like warm honey, sweet but ever so passionate. His body heat enough to make you forget about the cold mettle of the car you were pressed up against.

That darkness loomed before you though, both Bo and Lester were out patrolling for new victims, new pieces of artwork that Vincent could preserve forever. They usually paid you little mind, as long as you helped however you could and didn't get in their way. What would they do if they came back and saw you and their brother like this?

The thought sent a shiver through you, which Vincent must have felt because he paused in his thrusting, his length buried inside you. Your two bodies were pressed so close together that you could feel his heartbeat. He trailed his hand up your neck and to your cheek, keeping the other hand on your waist. He turned your head to look back at him, brushing his thumb from your cheek to your lips, running his thumb along the bottom lip. You closed your eyes from the loving gesture and leaned into him.

“Vinny…” You breathe as he placed his lips on yours, only continuing with just how gentle the artist could be.

The rumble of an engine was the only thing keeping you from being there all night, lost in his resumed thrusting, his cock pressing in and out of you, his scarred lips carsessing yours, your hands reaching to twine around the hand that was to your face and the other one to his placed on your waist. But that tell tale noise of a pick up registered in your mind from far away, bringing back from the warm world of pleasure.

Before you could push away from him to try to get decent in time, Vincent pushed a finger to your lips, a silent question in his eyes. You felt your heart thump as headlights illuminated the ground just meters away from where your almost completely naked bodies were standing. You nodded.

The two of you slid to the ground, fluidly, quickly. Vincent guiding you onto your stomach with himself on top, still inside you. He was hardly any bigger than you, so you barely noticed the weight, and instead was caught up in the new position and the anticipation and fear of being caught.

You could feel exactly where his tip was now. You felt your breath hitch in your throat.

You could see as Bo parked his truck, slammed the door and lit a cigarette.

You could feel the way Vincent’s thighs rested against your ass, pressing into the ground to give him a bit more leverage. Leverage to push into your insides, letting you feel how everything moved aside to make way for him.

You watched as Bo glanced around the front yard of their home, and you could almost swear that he saw you two for a moment, as eyes colder than Vincent’s glanced at where the two of you lay. The idea of him seeing you like this, shame and horror rose up, but such excitement with it. The thought of Bo meeting your gaze, his eyes widening as he would realize just what he was seeing made your eyelids droop with pleasure as you lifted your hips into Vincent.

Vincent thrust into you fully again, bottoming out and leaning his head over your shoulder to nestle against your cheek. You almost yelped from the sudden abruptness and from how good it felt. Like whiskey, rich, warms you from the inside out, with a sharpness that you’d not be likely to forget anytime soon.

Bo’s eyes slid past the two of you. He hadn’t seen you after all. He stomped out his cigarette and went inside the house.

You breathed out a sigh of relief and disappointment at the same time, though you weren't entirely sure where the second came from. Your gentle lover’s hair dropped into your face as you turned to embrace him with another kiss.

____________________________

Did this end abruptly? Yes. Did I write this at 2:00 in the morning? Also yes.

Probably more on the way, and hey if you're reading this, very lit.

[helloemmaz3]

Masked Pursuit

*sign* 

This is based off of a poll I made about Vincent Sinclair. 

Idk how it came to this. But anyhoo! Enjoy! (hopefully)

Warnings: NSFW, Minors DO NOT INTERACT.

You were fucked.

You wished you hadn’t listened to your stupid ass friends. You wished you hadn’t stepped foot in this shitty ghost town for fucking gas. If only you had noticed something was odd when the wax figures looked a little bit too real, but now it was too late. Now, three of your friends have been turned into wax sculptures as some sick and twisted art, and you witnessed your final friend get his head blown the fuck off by a crazed mechanic with a shotgun.

Now you were in the house of horror, Trudy’s House of Wax.

“SOMEONE! FUCKING HELP ME!” you screamed at the top of your lungs. The sound of echoing heavy footsteps behind you pierced the air as you darted through the wax exhibit, fear etched across your face. You weren’t looking to be turned into a fucking wax figure by this maniac.

The dimly lit, eerie atmosphere engulfed the wax museum as your breath came in short gasps as you tried to escape. Your heart pounded in your chest as you glance over your shoulder, catching a glimpse of a masked man closing in on you.

Silent figures of ordinary people, frozen in time, surround the room you passed through.

You felt like they were watching you reach your inevitable death.

Eventually, you stumbled upon another section of the wax museum after running for what seemed like forever. You stand there at one end of a surreal and otherworldly kitchen, where everything, from the smallest utensil to the grandest centerpiece, is made entirely of wax. Wax replicas of pots and pans hung neatly from hooks on the wall, casting distorted reflections.

When footsteps stop short of the doorway, your eyes widen. Your attention was caught by the strange man, whose raven black hair cascaded down to his chest. The both of you stare at each other for a moment, and it was only the sound of you heaving that filled the room.

The tension in the wax kitchen reached its peak when a confrontation unfolded between the two of you. You frantically scanned your surroundings for an escape route and spotted a mahogany door. But you couldn’t just run towards it without being grabbed and eventually sliced and diced by this dude.

No.

So in one desperate move, you grab the wax plates from behind you on the counter and hurl them forcefully at the man as he advances towards you. The plates, fragile and brittle, soar through the air, spinning and twirling in a chaotic dance.

However, your efforts prove futile when the man’s instincts kick in, and with lightning-fast reflexes, he raises his arm in a protective gesture. The plates collide with his forearm, and in a shower of broken wax fragments, they disintegrate upon impact. At that moment, you bum-rushed through the door for a much-awaited freedom only to stare down at a stairway that took on an eerie and macabre form. Your eyes danced across a haunting amalgamation of faces and flickering candlelight.

“What the-” Before you could finish your sentence, something hard pushed your back causing you to tumble forward. As if in slow motion, you felt yourself falling head over heels until finally hitting the bottom with an agonizing thud.

You groaned as pain shot up from every part of your body while trying to catch breaths between sobs. The masked man stood at the top of the stairs looking down at you like he had just won some sort of twisted game show prize for catching his victim after an hour-long chase around the waxed rooms.

Seeing you helplessly lay before him, the masked man was like a hawk swooping down on its prey, ready to snatch it up in its talons as he began descending slowly toward you.

“Please…Please stop! I’ll leave!” you begged. The man cocked his head at you in response, almost as if he was wondering what to do next.

“Just let me leave. I promise I will never come back again,” you pleaded with the man who seemed  to not listen to a word you said. He just kept on staring at your body, his blue eyes slowly sliding up your frame. It was as if he was lost deep within the folds of his mind. His gaze was so intense that your legs trembled in fear.

All of a sudden, he reached behind his neck to undo his black apron, then began undoing the zipper on his pants. All you could do was watch him as a feeling of arousal mixed with dread crept into you. Your breath became heavy as his cock sprang out. He quickly removed his pants and kicked them off along with his apron leaving him completely naked from the shirt down. You stared at the thick, hard shaft sticking straight up from between his legs, dripping pre-cum from the tip.

It looked big enough to be the biggest dick you've ever seen, or maybe you just imagined it was that large because you weren't getting any lately. 

Your eyes were fixed on it as you laid there. Your mind silently complimented it. You tried to imagine what would happen if you resisted. Out of all the scenarios you saw yourself dying regardless. So what was the point?

At least if you die after this, you’ll die knowing you received a good dicking.

“You know what? Just fuck me." you exclaim out of breath. “I’m gonna die anyway.” 

You let out a whimper as he grabbed your wrists, pinning them against the floor above you.  The masked man that lifted you up slightly by your waist, to line your clothed sex with his member.

Your breath hitched in response to the man unbuckling and pulling down your pants to reveal your purple panties. You felt cold air 

He moved the crotch area of the panties aside on your wet puffy lips and then shoved himself inside your virgin pussy with his giant cock. It hurt a lot at first because it was bigger than anything you had experienced before, but once he started moving in and out your pussy walls, all you could do was moan with pleasure as he filled you completely.

He began to thrust inside of you in a quick rhythm, his hips slamming into yours with powerful force. His balls slapped against your ass, making a loud smacking noise that sent shivers down your spine as you moaned louder. You felt sweat start to bead on your forehead and trickle down your neck as he slammed into you even harder. He was taking control, and you liked that a lot. You wanted to feel his cock pounding into you.

“Ohhh~" you had completely forgotten about him killing your friends as he pumped your pussy like he was possessed by some kind of sex demon. You wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders while he pounded into you over and over again like he didn't need to breathe in order to stay alive.

He was going to kill you. You knew it. Yet the pleasure coursing through your entire body was too much to handle as he continued to hammer away at your tight cunt. You could only whimper in protest as he drove into you relentlessly.

“OH fuck" you grunted, "I'm gonna...I'm gonna cum" You began to buck uncontrollably, unable to keep still as his length teased at the right spot inside of you. Throughout your body, your muscles tightened with excitement. You felt your climax building deep inside of you and all you could do was let go. You came like a rocket, squirting hot jizz all over the base of his member as you screamed in ecstasy.

With one last thrust, he let out a loud grunt as his thick load spurted deep inside of you. He collapsed onto you and lay there panting as you both caught your breath together. 

[denaliwrites]

Make Me Glow

Peter Vincent x Fem!Reader

Summary: Peter always knows just what you need when your period is making you absolutely miserable.

Soundtrack: Heart Attack (Rock Version) by Demi Lovato

Requests: Open!

Warnings: Periods, Cramps. Use of Bitch as a Term of Endearment. Taking medication.

If there was one thing you were grateful for in Peter's penthouse, it was the giant luxury bath he'd insisted on having installed. You didn't typically use it, but sometimes it was just what you needed.

Especially on your period.

You moaned when you made contact with the water, sinking slowly into the delicious heat and watching the tendrils of steam dance as your descent into the water sent ripples across the surface.

You wanted to cry at the near-instant relief you felt as the warmth surrounded you, drastically easing your aches with each passing second. You wished you could stay in the bath forever.

For a few minutes, you simply lay in the water, letting your mind go blissfully blank once your pain was relieved enough that you could take your mind off it.

But that was boring, and you only had so much time before Peter got back, so you grabbed the remote from the shelf behind you and clicked on the TV mounted on the wall in front of you -- that one had been your idea -- and flipped the channels until you settled on an episode of I Love Lucy.

It wasn't your typical choice, but right now you just wanted to pretend real problems didn't exist.

You didn't realize you'd fallen asleep until you were jolted awake by an annoyed voice emanating from somewhere nearby.

"I swear," Peter was saying, and your drowsy eyes finally found him standing in front of the mirror, peeling his false goatee off. "Oh, now she's awake!" he growled, seeing your eyes on him through the mirror. "Missed my whole rant, lazy bitch."

When he saw the hurt look in your eyes, he visibly deflated. "Oh, darling," he sighed, leaving the mirror to kneel at your side. "What's wrong?"

"Period," you said simply with a despondent shrug.

"Oh, dear," he cooed, petting your hair for a moment. His hand dipped into the water, no doubt checking the temperature, before withdrawing it with a low whistle. "Darling, that water is freezing. Let's get you out of there."

You nodded, letting him help you up and out of the tub. He pulled the plug, turned off the TV, and grabbed the towel you'd put in the warmer before you'd gotten into the bath. It was wrapped snugly around your waist with a kiss to the top of your head.

"There you are," he said soothingly. "Let's get you out of here, yeah?" You nodded, and he shepherded you to the bedroom, where you were pushed gently onto the plush duvet.

He could tell that your pain was returning by a strained whimper that escaped your best attempts to withhold it, and by the way you clutched at your belly.

"Oh, darling," he sighed, kissing your head again. "I'll be back, you get settled in."

You nodded, and then he was off again. While he was away, you unwrapped the towel from around yourself and carefully slid under the covers of the bed. They were warm, but you missed the bath. You wished you could go back in.

You'd take another one tomorrow, you decided.

Peter sauntered back into the room holding a glass of water in one hand and a tub of your favorite ice cream in the other. "Water and pills first," he told you, handing off the glass and two Advil into your waiting hands.

Dutifully, you took a sip of the water and downed the pills, then downed the rest of the water in one go.

"Oh, good girl," he praised you, sounding genuinely impressed. He held the ice cream out to you, and you snatched it up eagerly, as well as the spoon he'd placed over the lid.

"Now, do you want to watch a bunch of idiot teens get killed in increasingly terrible ways?" he asked you, settling into the bed behind you. He was over the covers, you realized when you noticed that you couldn't immediately feel his body heat, and that his skin wasn't touching yours.

"That sounds good," you whimpered with a nod.

He put on Friday the 13th, and you happily dug into your ice cream while the two of you watched the movie.

[j0kers-light]

His Angel: Unexpected Encounter (LedgerJoker x f!reader)

Unexpected Encounter

series summary:

Y/n is secretly a guardian angel with a home base in Gotham City. All of your previous assignments have passed on peacefully and you fail to take on another; much to your counsel's growing concern. You spend your days blending in with the citizens of Gotham until an unexpected encounter throws your entire existence upside down.

chapter summary:

Years have passed since that fateful night. Your fellow counsel means well wishing to assign you a new target, but none feel right. You still harbor that inner fault and nothing can fix what has broken. That is until you venture down below and wind up in an unexpected encounter.

author's note:

ITS TIME!!! I give you the first chapter out of a total of ten for His Angel! This hit me late Wednesday afternoon and I literally wrote this chapter in under two hours. These little fingers were getting it!! It's a great intro chapter!

This series is heavily inspired by the following song. I do hope you enjoy the beginning to a wonderful journey. 🖤✨

Taglist:

@alittlesmartcookie @reneisance @cheetahspy @darthjokerisyourfather @xxrougefangxx

Let me know if you wish to be added to the official His Angel taglist! Be alerted when the story updates! 🖤✨

Next Chapter

A feeling like no other. Excruciating and unfathomable, a constant reminder of how you failed.  

In the blink of an eye, your purpose— what should have been your greatest triumph, was snatched away and in its wake, a well of resentment remained.  

You loathed your negligence and strived to redeem yourself. You scoured the Earth, searching, hoping for forgiveness in the form of reason. Nothing came of it and as time passed, the consensus was absolute. You failed and nothing would change that.  

These halls once brought you a great sense of joy. Warm, gilded, and brimming with purpose, you felt at home as you floated through its labyrinthine corridors.  

You lost such sentiments years ago.  

These days, the sacred walls felt judgmental upon each dead end you came across hence the reason you moved away. The shadow of your former self became too much to bear. You changed, and the counsel was forever understanding of your woes.  

By no means were you banished, in fact—you were one of the most revered angels above. Your reputation preceded you, and none would ever rise to your station. 

And yet, how have you fallen.  

Your footsteps were light against the pristine marble floors. Your time spent living with humans made you forget that you could defy gravity. Walking was just second nature to you now.  

You arrived in an open area where an old friend stood waiting. He blended in so well with the white alabaster stone that you almost didn’t spot him. He didn’t notice your presence and you were quick to change that by striking up a conversation.  

“It is said your ears are the sharpest in the clouds.” You smirked when your friend jumped in fright. “And yet I’ve startled you.” 

The being turned around and graced you with his beauty. One look into his milky white eyes and there was no escape. That is, if you were weak in body.  

Ario knew you were mostly immune to his charm but decided to lay it on thick for old times' sake. You arched an eyebrow at his poor attempt.  

He circled your form twice before bowing at the waist. “What an honor! The Great Y/n graces me with her presence. Still as radiant as ever I see.”    

Centuries ago, you would’ve been flattered. Now, not so much.  

“Cut to the chase, Ario. I am not in the mood.” You sighed. 

“When are you.” He grumbled under his breath. He flew a short distance over to the balcony edge. Vines and ethereal flora crept up the ancient stone making a serene but secluded space.  

A pale finger beckoned you over. You rolled your e/c eyes but urged your feet to move even after Ario eyed you sideways for walking. 

The view was breathtaking. The two of you could see all that was beneath the sea of clouds. Earth from above was simply beautiful. Back in your youth, the sight never failed to make you tear up. Today you took it for granted.  

Your eyes flickered back towards Ario, urging him to speak. He admired the view a bit more before sighing.  

“I see you are pressed for time; I will make myself short. You’ve been on an extended leave for decades Y/n. I worry.”  

You glanced down at Ario’s hand resting on your arm. You could see that he was touching you, but besides that, you were unable to feel the physical contact.  

“Your worry is misplaced.” You jerked your arm away and focused your sights on a little sprite floating near an Edelweiss flower. The sprite sensed your presence and shined brightly for you. 

Ario heard rumors of your drastic change in personality. He thought it was all heresy for you were known by your warm aura and gentle spirit. The woman before him was cold and detached despite standing in one of your favorite grottoes. Something had made you bitter and he wanted to find out what.  

“Y/n. Don’t you find it odd that you haven’t had an assignment in ages? Even you aren’t above reproach. Either something is wrong or....” Ario’s voice trickled off the second you unfurled your wings in anger. 

“Or what?” You seethe.  

Dark as the night, your wings expanded as they blocked out all light in the grotto. The sprites and other animals in the vicinity fled and Ario was forced to turn his head away in humility. You outranked him in every way and deserved respect.  

Deep down you knew Ario meant well. He could simply be a messenger of this bad news. If that were the case, then it was wrong to unleash your frustration on him.  

“Forgive me. I will open my mind to your words.” You took flight for a second to perch yourself on the balcony ledge. A brief compromise if you will.  

Ario smiled at your legs kicking in the air. It was nice to see your whimsical personality still with you. One day he would have his old friend back, he just had to deal with this latest version until then. He leaned on the balcony by your side in earnest.  

“There is an assignment we think is best suited for you.” Ario looked up in shock when you hopped down. “Hear me Y/n!” He called after you.  

He blocked the exit with his wingspan and came face to face with your disapproving frown. Even while displeased, your beauty remained. He wondered who was charming who.. 

Ario knew if you wanted to pass, you wouldn’t have to lift a finger to move him.  

You wanted to hear what he had to say. You returned home of your own accord after so many years away. That had to count for something. Perhaps you were longing for purpose once more.  

Ario used that thread of hope to his advantage.  

“He is doing good for the humans. Fighting crime, purging the city of evil doers..” Ario materialized an assignment scroll from thin air and handed it to you.  

You hardly glanced over it, “He has an armored tank and a military grade suit. Why does he require my protection?” Did the counsel think you were that desperate? A child could protect this human.  

“He’s only one man, Y/n! Just... go observe him for one night. There is no harm in that.” Ario bit his lip and softened his clear eyes. You were stronger than this but…. Ugh! His charm was getting to you, and he knew it.  

You closed your eyes to stop the spell. You needed a level head to make a decision like this.  

The last thing you wanted was a new assignment. Brief flashes of your last charge danced across your memory. You lost your touch. You failed.  

Could you suffer through another failure?  

Years had passed and still it hurt— but you longed to have purpose once again. Your only failure could not define your entire life's work. You protected so many, why did one single human affect you this severely? It was your secret, your burden to bear. Others had made mistakes. Charges sometimes couldn’t be saved.... 

But you didn’t make mistakes. You are the Great Y/n. No one could know you failed a mission. 

However, if you didn’t take an assignment, it was only a matter of time before your status would be called into question. If the counsel made an inquiry... No! 

You were a holy guardian, a protector of life. It was time you returned to your calling.  

With a heavy sigh, you locked eyes with Ario. “Fine, but this is only an observation. I will not commit myself until I feel a connection.” 

Those words would come to haunt you very soon.  

You broke through the ethereal cloud barrier and used the Gotham City pollution as a cover to tuck your wings away. 

It wouldn’t have hurt if someone saw you— there were hybrid humans in the world, but seeing a hawk hybrid is one thing. Seeing a fully realized angel would literally kill a human.  

It was best practice to apply a glamor. One less human pile of goo to clean up.  

You wanted nothing more than to go home to your apartment in The Bowery and sleep off your trip home, but duty was more important, and this was the perfect time to begin your observation. Your potential assignment was a night owl. The Batman, he called himself.  

You rolled your eyes at the dumb title. Humans were such odd creatures.  

His file was of little interest to you. Dead parents, filthy rich, yet he devoted his life to fighting crime. Now that almost made you laugh. For what could one man do to rid the world of evil?  

Absolutely nothing. All of his hard work was in vain.  

You kept that knowledge to yourself. It wasn’t your place to dabble with fate. If you accepted this charge, then you would do your best to guard this little one until his predestined time.  

At the rate he was going, it wouldn’t be long.  

Speaking of time, you entered the bank where Batman was conducting his ‘round of vengeance’ despite the late hour.  

Some humans were screaming while others wearing odd clown masks were either on the floor unconscious or still standing, trying to disarm the bat.  

Batman was just one man yet held his own against a group of five, although one did not seem human to you. There was an unnatural aura about him that made you wary.  

You leaned on a bank counter to watch the strange man laugh and kick your charge. They were ganging up on him yet, you didn’t feel anything. Odd.  

Normally an angel didn’t register pain unless they were a guardian in the presence of their charge. They shared each other’s pain within a certain distance to help the angel sense potential danger. You were in the same room and felt nothing. 

Now you were interested. It wasn’t uncommon for a connection to be delayed but it was ideal for it to occur upon first sight for it to be a successful match.   

Just then Ario’s words from earlier came back to you. “There is an assignment we think is best suited for you.” 

Unique scenarios like this were your realm of expertise. A daunting challenge for others, a mere walk in the park for you.  

Batman blocked each attack hurled his way and managed to even the score in the process. He was left standing toe to toe with the odd-looking fellow dressed in a purple suit.  

His laughter grated your nerves and soothed it at the same time. Your feathers bristled, begging to be outstretched due to the complex feeling.  

“Well Bats! It's just.... you annnnnnnnnnd me!”  

Their conversation about justice and the principle of right and wrong quickly bored you. And Ario wanted you to observe this human for an entire night? You would stay until the connection was made and then leave.  

Granted it was there, although faint— most likely because Batman was fully capable of protecting himself unless he miraculously got caught in a near death situation. You didn’t foresee that happening anytime soon, and definitely not tonight.  

You didn’t have the patience to wait around.  

You were turning to leave (and to reject this assignment) when a sharp blow to your stomach made you double over in pain.  

The counter cushioned most of your fall, but you still wheezed as you—for the first time in ages, experienced pain. Heavens, did it hurt. You did not miss this at all.  

It took you several moments to realize that the bank had gone eerily quiet, and all eyes were on you. Why were the humans staring? 

Stars above, they were staring at you.  

In your moment of shock, your glamor fell. In the middle of an armed robbery. In front of dozens of humans. Could it get any worse? 

You closed your eyes and started checking off the Unexpected Encounter protocols in your head. Blink twice, summon Amenadiel to freeze time. Proceed to erase all human memory of said encounter before.. 

“Whyyyyyyy hello beautiful.” 

Your eyes snapped open. No one was screaming and no one was being evaporated by your angelic aura.  

No, everyone was too busy watching the head robber saunter up to you.  

He had a knife in hand, and a smile stretched grotesquely on his face. Your own cheek throbbed just looking at the jagged scars. They looked familiar somehow.. you struggled to remember from where.  

A quick glance to your right confirmed your worst fear. Batman was lying on the ground, motionless.  

You failed your charge again but that was the least of your worries. This strange man had reached your side and his eyes, the most vivid shade of green you’ve ever seen for a human, was watching you in intrigue.  

They made you lose focus and become adrift at sea. Something was off about this man. A mere human shouldn’t affect you this way, let alone at all.  

He smacked his lips and pushed his hair back before grabbing ahold of your face. You could feel the texture of his gloves.  

You.. could.. feel? Nothing made any sense.  

“Did it hurt?” His words snapped you out of your fog and your guard immediately went up.  

Was this man an angel like you? How did he know about your connection link? You decided to play dumb just to be on the safe side. It could be just a coincidence. You truly hoped it was “What?” You gasped.  

“I saiddd.. did it hurT… when you, ahh, fell from heaven?” He asked.  

Your entire body tensed up. Oh Heavens above, he knew. He knew your secret.  

You knew what you had to do.  

[us3rnam3-r3dact3d]

another one thank you 🤭🤭

lovely - 97

vincent - 39

-🦀

CRAB ANON!! Anything for you!!!

(I realized after finishing it that I read my list wrong and did an entire review for All My Love when it was meant to be July by Hozier. So you're getting both ILY)

Divine Loser | Clem Turner

Ooohhh man Lovely's trauma!!! Dude... they have to have a lot of trauma. The amount of shit they've been through... yeah this song represents the times they don't handle it all gracefully.

My hands, they wander off I'm not afraid of death I'm just afraid of feeling numb

Lovely has faced death more than most people will ever have the misfortune of claiming. How could they be afraid of it? How could they be scared to die when they have?

I don't know how I am I'll pay you handsomely If I should drift away Please don't revive me

Baby, just let me bleed in peace

Do you think it flicked through their mind, laying there in Vincent's arms? Do you think they considered just... letting it happen? You've gotta get tired after a while. You've got to get tired to living and living and living when everything keeps trying to make you stop.

It's balanced on my wrist My pulse is populous It grips my skeleton Of course, you'd know -

My god, you break the skin But may I be thy heaven? Will you take my sickness While I deprive you of your health?

They can't feed Vincent anymore. That's not the important thing to think about when they're literally dying, but I think that it might have stuck in their mind. He saves them, but they can't give him anything anymore.

I bit my fingernails Until I tasted bone So my body remains But my purpose just stopped

My habits wouldn't heal I had to have killed god And my body remains But the person is gone

They're going to look the same way for the rest of forever. They're never going to change. But they are so very different than they were before.

All My Love | Noah Kahan

A song about a relationship that is long past and the love that he still holds for that person. I think for Vincent this translates more to the relationships with his family than a romantic one.

We once sang Retrograde, we'd shake the frame of your car Now I know your name, but not who you are It's all okay There ain't a drop of bad blood, it's all my love

Vincent knows his family's names. He knows where they live. He could go see them. He could stalk them online. He could find out how they are. But I don't think he has. I think he's left them in his mind exactly how they were before he died. I think he can't stand to know how they've changed.

You got all my love while I'm still out here With the pills and the dogs, if you need me, dear I'm the same as I was, it's all okay There ain't a drop of bad blood, it's all my love

Vincent hasn't aged a day since he died. He hasn't changed. If his mother saw him on the street, she would see the ghost of him, the same boy she lost.

And my goodness the blood motif!! No bad blood!

Well, those five words in my head, you said, "I'll never let you go"

July | Hozier

July is Vincent reflecting on all of the life and love that Lovely brought to him.

Winter worn me out like I was Prada Threw up on me when the night was through You can keep a dream in your mind Only to find it's the hope that was killing you

But you arrived like sunlight in the gloom And burned off the haze when the year was still new

Keeping me going how you show up like July, July And July is still coming It's made real by the things that you do

I mean what a metaphor!! A guy who can't be in the sun has someone who comes into his life and absolutely lights him up inside.

Anyway I think it's a sweet song and I love sun metaphors for vampires.

[mirai1269]

Shower thought: Leon successfully manages to kill Vincent, but this somehow ends up killing the MC. To save the MC, Leon must save Vincent from being killed by his past self.

This was a dream that turned into a nightmare.

He remembers standing by Vincent's wheezing self. The red head's face was drenched in blood, he was basically drowning in it. The sight gave Leon satisfaction. But it was simply a little snack for his hunger, and the taste started to bore him.

"Your breathing is quiet irritating. And here I am, running late."

One final blow with the metal and the pest remained silent forever. Leon could only bother to clean his weapon with the bottle of water he always carried with himself, which he then stabbed into a pile of trash, away from his "playground".

Then a week passed. It was like he never had to worry about anything. Even now, on their 2nd date, there were no doubts in the back of his mind.

He could only see the gentle smile MC gave him.

The starry eyes, full of love reflecting his face.

Those same eyes lost their spark in a matter of seconds.

The rosy cheeks slowly turned pale, only colored by MC's own blood. Only warmed by Leon's tears.

"N-no... this can't be... help... someone HELP!!"

The ambulance ride was infuriatingly long. The air in the waiting room was sufficating.

When the doctor broke the news to him, he couldn't believe it at first.

"I'm sorry. There was nothing we could do."

Once the words were realised, it took everything in him not to turn the room into a wasteland.

Soon enough, Newt was informed of his brother's death. Poor boy was screaming, begging Leon to tell him he was just telling him a sick joke. Even after half an hour he couldn't hold his tears in.

The next week, they held a small memorial, then burried his body in the nearby cemetery.

"In the memory of a loving brother and loving partner." The quote read under his name and the years of his birth and deaths on his tombstone.

Leon stood by the grave, recounting their shared memories, while caressing the cold metal medal on his necklace.

It was a gift, the last gift he had got from MC. After the boy learned that Leon somehow lost his arrow shaped one (which was the first ever gift MC had given him), he surprised him with this.

The sharp edges of the half heart shaped medalion made him feel empty inside. He no longer had the energy to cry nor to scream.

Suddenly, the sound of slow footsteps caused him to snap out of his thoughts, but he didn't look behind, thinking they might be visiting someone else. But the growing volume started to make him more catious. Once the stranger stopped, something was thrown onto the grave. Leon immediatelly reconized it.

"Is that... my necklace?!"

Confused, the boy turned around to demand an explanation.

The loud sound of a gun shot echoed through the cemetery. As fast as he turned, Leon fell to the ground with a big thud. The enviornment around him quickly turned black, he didn't even feel pain.

-------------------------------------------------------

"Ugh... ugh..."

The tall boy opened his eyes, the comforting sight of his bedroom slightly easing the constricting feeling of anxiety inside his chest.

"Just... a nightmare..."

Leon put his head back onto his pillow, a relieved sigh leaving his mouth. His arm reached for his phone, but all he grasped was air. Confused, he sat up to see his empty nightstand. Weird, he doesn't remember putting his phone anywhere else last night.

CRASH!

The sudden noise made him jump in his seat. Catiously he sneaked out of his room and made his way to where the noise came from, the kitchen. What he saw in there made him reconsider if he was actually awake.

"What... who is that?!" The boy mumbled. Standing by the sink, soaked with soapy water stood... him? Well, the person looked exactly like him, the way he cursed sounded like him, but he couldn't have been him.

By luck, he caught a glimpse of his phone laying on the dinner table. Once his look-a-like turned back to washing the dishes he snatched the device and retreated to his hiding spot.

"6 a.m... it's....'that' day..." Leon mumbled. The boy looked back out to his döppelganger.

This doesn't make sense. If he really had just dreamt the whole thing, killing Vincent, MC's death and his own demise... then what's this guy doing in their kitchen?!

Looking around, he realizes something. This guy ate exactly was he ate on that day for breakfast. It's weird that he remembers, but for him, the day he could finally be rid of Vincent was supposed to be a happy one, a day of celebration.

Considering the date, it would be safe to assume that he either went back in time, or teleported into an alter dimension. He unlocked his phone to check something.

"Our photos are still here... 'those' photos are here too!"

Leon was now 100% convinced that he really did go back in time. But then, why was there a clone of himself in the house?

"Huh? Where's my phone?" The clone asked.

Sh*t!

As fast as he could, he bolted to the basement. This of course was heard by the other "Leon".

Once down, he closed the door. He needed a plan, fast! Unfortunately, his other self's angry banging on the door didn't make his planning easier.

"Oi! Get out!" The clone shouted. "I swear to god, if you don't get out in 10 seconds, I'll tear down this door! I'm serious, buddy!"

Oh, Leon knew he was serious. He was very aware of his capabilities. Which is why he needed to act fast. Luckily for him, he knew the basement like the back of his hand, even in this darkness.

As promised, once the seconds passed, the door was kicked off its hinges, revealing the angry clone, his eyes flashing in a bloodthirsty red.

"Say your last prayers!" 'Leon' snarled as he bashed his baseball bat against the wall. It left a concerningly large crack. With a flick of the lightswitch, the whole room was illuminated. With catious steps and descended down the creaking wooden stairs as his eyes scanned through the area.

Once at the bottom, a sly smirk rawled up to his face.

"You know... I can do this all day. Come out, and all you'll get is a broken leg."

Silence. He walked deeper into the room, his guard never lowering.

"...else, they'll have to glue you back together."

"-be my guest!"

The skull opened with a sickening crack. A metalic chime that rang through the room once the metal bat hit the concrete floor. The pink hair on the back of his head turned darker as blood dyed it. With a loud thud, the lifeless corpse hit the ground. The axe remained stuck, like a flag planted into soil.

Leon let out a sigh in accomplishment. He ran back to the kitchen for garbage bags. The hole in the wall left him worried.

"How will I explain this to mom and dad?"

-------------------------------------------

Sorry for the late answer! Really didn't meant to drag it out this long!

[sailtomarina]

You don't scare me

She found him in the seventh-floor corridor just outside of the Room of Requirement far past curfew time. The shadow of his sixth-year burden lay on his shoulders, weighing them down and making him look far older than his eighteen years.

“Draco? What are you doing here? Do you know what time it is?”

He didn’t even startle at her discovery, as if expecting she would find him. He simply turned to face her with a tired blink. His hands hung loosely at his sides, the usually immaculate nails bit down almost to the quick.

“I just wanted to see what it looked like with the Fiendfyre gone.” His voice was hoarse and low. She inspected his eyes expecting them to be rimmed with red, but they were dry.

She nodded in understanding and glanced at the blank wall behind him where she knew the Room stood. The battle seemed so long ago now, yet also as if it had just happened yesterday. If Hermione closed her eyes, she could almost smell the choking smoke, feel the overwhelming heat.

“There was nothing left of him there, not that I expected otherwise.”

Vincent Crabbe. Lumbering gait, forever lurking behind Draco. Her last memory of him was the curl to his lip as he cast the curse that almost burned them all, the same one that took his own life. When they were first years, she remembered him returning the scrunchie she had dropped at the train station. He had blushed as their fingers brushed in the trade.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly.

He tilted his head at her words, brow furrowing as he processed them. “Why are you sorry? He tried to kill you. We tried to kill you. We made the past seven years of your life here hell—”

His voice was cut off by the touch of her hands taking his into her own. She was impossibly warm. The heat flowed up his arms straight into his chest, nearly staggering him with the force of it.

“Do you remember what I said?” She squeezed his fingers as she waited for his response.

“…you said you forgave me.”

She could barely hear his murmur, and stepped closer into his frame.

“And?”

Draco’s sigh brushed warmth across the top of her hair as she leaned into his chest.

“And that we can’t change the past. That we can only look at the now and plan for the future the best way we know how.”

“Correct. And right now, I want you, Draco Malfoy, to remember that you don’t scare me. It’s quite the opposite, actually.” She looked up then, her dark eyes pulling him into her orbit. “You remind me every day of our ability to change for the better.”

The light in his eyes that had been briefly extinguished this evening flickered back to life as he gazed at her. The tension in his jaw released and the breath he took buoyed him back to the surface. It wouldn’t do to dwell on the dead, though he would never forget his friend and the times they shared.

“You’re right.”

“I know I’m right.”

This time, he couldn’t hold back the upward curl of his lips, and he leaned down to press his forehead to hers. “How does Head Girl want to deal with my infraction?”

“Follow me for the rest of my rounds tonight and then escort me to my quarters. You can make it up to me then.” She raised an eyebrow suggestively, before pulling back and spinning around to continue her patrol.

Giving a final parting nod over his shoulder at the wall, he turned to follow Hermione Granger. She strode confidently down the hallway, back straight and curly ponytail swinging from side to side like some kind of guiding beacon to his floundering heart. Toad girl. Mudblood. Insufferable know-it-all. Prettiest bird at the ball. Hero. Head Girl. Friend. Girlfriend. Lover.

WC 653

[piffany666]

Ok just one more punk progeny won't hurt~

Chapter 4: the sun

TW: this Chapter contains purposefully induced PTSD flashbacks, self harm and smoking if any of these topics make you uncomfortable I recommend you scroll to below the red line, past this line is after the potentially uncomfortable situation ends.

Ftm trans Bright eyes (he/him pronouns)

Bright smoked as he sat on the roof of the solaire mansion.

Not so long ago he renounced smoking and demoted himself to vapeing but he made the compelling argument of 'its not like vampires can get lung cancer' besides, when he exhaled smoke protruded out of the bite holes in his neck and to him that was a compelling enough reason.

As he exhaled, the memories he'd made over the last few hours played in his head.

He did have a lot of fun with Vincent. It did feel good to hang out with another vampire that wasn't Sam, Fred or just some guy he met at a bar because his friends sucked.

So....why was he here?

He looked towards the horizon as he took a drag of the cigarette, in the direction of Wonder World.

The sun was creeping almost menacingly over the horizon but Bright had some time to kill before the sun came out of hiding.

He had a good day. He had found someone to talk to besides Tanker that truly understood him.

So why. Was. He. Here?

He asked himself again, eyes still attached to the horror movie set of a place he was made in.

Finally he closed his eyes, allowing the smoke to coil around him.

He remembered everything....he remembered everything as if it happened only yesterday.

The way the excitement melted away into dread and horror as the skull of Quinn's last victim rolled into view.

The way Fred ran, the way Bright lingered on a little longer than him.

Fred may have begun running before him but Bright was faster and it wasn't long before he overtook him.

Somewhere along the way Fred had fallen behind.

It was a good thing Fred told him to keep going because he probably would have kept running anyway and Fred would probably hate him even more than he already dose if that had been the case.

At least that's what Bright told himself.

Bright's heart rate began to increase so he instinctually took another drag.

He kept. On. Running.

Eventually the sound of his best friend's voice got quiet, whether or not it was due to distance or the fact that he was dead wouldn't be known until later on.

Because of this, Bright allowed himself to slow down. How many worst mistakes of your life can you make in one night?

Until eventually he heard a sound that could only be described as "woosh" and he was knocked to the ground along with his breath.

A low groan came from him before the ability to breathe was put into question.

Then HE appeared.

At first he was just a silhouette then his features became visible as he grabbed Bright's wrists and dropped his knees onto his stomach and chest.

He could still hear his voice...

"You should have listened to your friend little mouse~ didn't anybody tell you not to stay out late

On Halloween?~"

Bright scratched at his neck as if to swat him away, but he wasn't there.....all he did was reopen the wound.

The cigarette fell from his lips and onto the roof where he held his knees in his hands.

Nothing he did NOW would change what happened THEN so the memory played on.

He continued scratching at the bite mark as the situation played out in his head, desperately trying to get through the memory of the second most painful experience of his life.

Whether it was the blood loss or the sophistication, eventually everything just....stopped.

The pain....stopped.

Exept there was no breath left in him to let out a sigh of relief.

For what seemed like forever but upon looking back what was probably only a couple minutes, Bright just layed there, body numb from the feeling of nothing.

It felt....nice

Like he never had to feel any kind of pain ever again, physical or otherwise.

But then like a defibrillator to the neck, he was jolted back to semi consciousness.

He wouldn't describe himself as awake but he could see what was happening to him, his best friend, the one guy he least expected to hurt him in any way, in the same position as his killer,

Sucking at the bite mark left by him.

Bright felt himself wince as what was left of his bloody insides were slurped up into Fred.

When Fred's mouth left Bright's neck, Bright assumed it was over so he let himself go numb, which only made it sting more when Fred ripped his own neck wound and lowered himself so it flowed like a fountain into Bright's mouth.

At first he began spluttering and choking but then he gave up on struggling and allowed himself to drown.

He couldn't speak at the time, he knew that, but in his mind he heard himself screaming at Fred to stop and that he didn't understand what he was doing

But he knew he wanted him to stop.

But he did not waver till there was no more blood to give and when he drained himself dry he collapsed next to him.

They were both looking to the sky when they died together.

Bright's eyes jolted open as he began screaming in anger, agony and regret

The sun had finally made its way past the threshold of the horizon and the only thing protecting him from its burn was the shadow that the solaire mansion cast, so amongst the screaming that went unheard, he pulled back his sleeve and removed his glove that did its best to hide the battle scares from him and the sun's past encounters, and he shoved his arm into the light.

His screaming became more of a hiss as he felt his skin burn and sizzle

_________________________________________

He didn't know when he planned to stop

But luckily somone wasn't going to let him make that choice.

He felt himself being pulled backwards then he was swiftly turned around to face the figure that pulled him, however he wasn't able to see their face as his face was being held close to the chest of his saviour.

He could feel arms cover his body as if to shield him, he could hear a hiss come from the body that held him, almost to threaten the light that burned him.

Eventually the figure loosened their grip, allowing Bright to look up at them

It was William.

He didn't look angry, he just looked....protective...?

Like the sun had attempted to take somthing important from him.

After a moment of this, he no short of scooped Bright up and made a motion that could only be described as "wooshed" him down from the roof, sticking to the shadows.

Bright blinked and then he found himself in William's office again, still huddled in his arms.

William placed him onto the chair he sat in last time and looked him in the eyes.

"Were going to talk about what you were just doing, but before any of that I need to heal you, it will hurt more than it did last time, is that OK?"

Through tears that Bright couldn't prevent from falling, he nodded.

Before he began his work, William removed his belt and gave it to Bright

"You'll be needing this" Bright knew what to do.

He placed the flattened rope of leather into his mouth and felt his teeth press into it.

"Alright" William said to no one in particular.

The burn wound was very visible and within healing range but Bright was a very....skittish person so William wanted to be as careful as possible.

He slowly intertwined his fingers with Bright's and brought his arm up to him. He let go of Bright's hand and took his arm into both his hands to place it in front of him.

He looked at Bright one last time then began to work.

It was just like last time exept the feeling was throughout his whole arm, Bright tried his best to be still for him but he couldn't stop himself from kicking and squirming, he continued to bite into the belt he held in his mouth, tears now streaming down his face.

After healing his arm he moved onto his bite wound that now had a claw mark that was bound to scar.

After a good few minutes of that, William let go as fast as he could.

"There it's done"

Bright spat the belt out his mouth and a spluttering noise came from him as the tears continued.

After Bright had fully composed himself, he looked up at William who had a look of sympathy on his face, but not pity

Never pity.

"H-how did you know I was - that I would?-"

"Fred had told Sam that he could feel you feeling.....bad and that he worried you were going to 'do something stupid' Sam informed me of this and when I heard a scream come from the roof and given where the sun is currently, let's just say I put two and two together"

Looks like his literal cry for help didn't fall on deaf ears this time.

William looked Bright dead in the eyes, the look of sympathy still plastered on his face.

"I wouldn't describe what you just did as stupid, I'd describe it as....understandable but equally unfortunate"

Bright looked down

"Bright, I am older than you could ever imagine, I can recognise a cry for help when I see one"

At that, he picked the belt up from the floor and began to re applie it to his waist.

He then sat on the edge of his desk

"Talk"

This wasn't a command as much as it was an invitation but Bright still felt like he didn't want to know what would happen if he didn't do what he told him.

"W-well i-i" he took a moment to compose himself and breathed in

"I spent the day with Vincent"

"Oh?"

"Y-yeah, I had a lot of fun....it was nice"

"I'm glad"

"But i-i.....I don't deserve it....there is SO much I don't deserve...so i-i guess this was kinda like a...l-like a-"

"A punishment"

Bright looked up at him

"Y-yeah...I know it's stupid of me I just-"

"No it isn't. It's completely understandable, I mean since the very beginning of your vampire life everyone you have ever had to interact with has blamed you for what happened and since you agree with them, I can see why you wouldn't deem yourself worthy of happiness"

Bright was stunned, he knew he was old but he didn't exactly expect him to hit the nail on the head with this one.

"Y-Yeah..."

"Are you a man of faith Bright?"

Bright looked confused at the sudden seemingly off topic question.

"Why?"

"A few centuries ago there was a vampire I knew who was very religious and he believed himself to be worthy of hell, but since that was never going to be, he made sure his immortality, or what he called purgatory, would be filled with nothing but misery because he believed himself to be worthy of nothing but just that, misery."

William then got up and went rooting in one of his draws.

Giving Bright a minute to marinate on what he had been told.

William eventually pulled out a small piece of paper and then went over to Bright

"Here I want you to have this, but I want you to know that this dose not contribute to your decision, you may take this regardless of your decision"

Bright took the paper from him.

When he un-crumpled it he saw that it was a phone number and a name he couldn't pronounce but that didn't tell him much.

"What is this?"

"It's the phone number to the best therapist in the area, I'll pay for it however like I previously stated, I will do so regardless of whether or not you agree to be my progeny"

Bright's eyes became wide, he had wanted a therapist that actually knew what they were doing since before he died.

"Thank you"

He said breathlessly

"It's no trouble, I'll let you know when I inform him of the payment situation, now, it's time for you to sleep, I assume you've been having trouble with the sleeping situation so I recommend you start going to sleep at this time for now on"

"O-ok"

Bright had slept here many times before so he had no trouble finding his guest room but before he left, he thanked William one more time.

William nodded and smiled.

When Bright left William picked up his phone.

.........

"I trust you made it here safely then?~"

.........

"Good I'm glad to hear that, you're earlier than we agreed, miss your old home that much hmm?~"

..........

"Alright, Alright I won't jest, I suppose I just wanted to lighten the mood given the circumstances of your return"

..........

"Alright, oh! And there's somone I think you should meet, I think the two of you would get along very well~"

Taggs: @darlin-collins @anexistingexistence @you-think-i-care-mate

[toastybagel-fanfiction]

behind the glass chapter 12 alternate opening

hey y'all!!! so i completely rewrote the beginning of chapter 12 before posting it but i kept the old opening in a different doc so i could post it on here. enjoy!

“I used to think about this all the time…” Vincent stood in the living room, turning around, taking in every little detail. “Our own house.”

“You mean apartment?” Scott chuckled, standing beside Vincent. “It’s not really anything special. It’s kinda shitty.”

“I don’t care about that.” Vincent’s have trailed across Scott’s shoulders, wrapping his arm around Scott and holding him close. “It’s special because we live here together.”

“You’re sweet,” Scott replied with a smile, melting into Vincent’s touch. “I’m glad you like it; I don’t think I’m ready to let it go yet.”

A black cat scampered out from between two boxes, hesitantly batting at a flap of cardboard hanging off of a box.

“I could live here forever, Scott, until the end of our days- until we’re old and gray.”

“Is that from one of your songs?” Scott looked up at Vincent, playfully poking his nose.

“No, but I might use it as inspiration.” Vincent’s eyes had flickered over to an empty spot on the floor beside the couch. “Would you mind if I got a piano?”

“Not at all. Would you mind if I got a liquor shelf?”

“I thought you didn’t drink after…” Vincent trailed off, looking down into Scott’s eyes. “You know, after high school, you told me that you didn’t want to drink anymore.”

“Things change.” Scott glanced down at the college sweatshirt that Vincent was wearing. He gently ran his fingers over the embroidered letters. “We’ve changed. Sometimes, I need a nice distraction, and drinking does that for me.”

“As long as you’re responsible about it-” Vincent gently tilted Scott’s chin upward. “Drink as much as you like. I don’t want you to become dependent, though; I lived with alcoholics my whole childhood and it’s not pretty.”

“After that one party…” Scott’s head was empty. He didn’t have memories of being drunk, only memories of paying for it the morning after. He wasn’t sure which night was the worst. “I don’t want to drink so much that I lose control, but I also don’t want to be sober forever.”

“It’s not that bad,” Vincent replied with a shrug. “I hardly drank while I was across the pond, and I still enjoyed my time there.”

“I never left Colorado. I don’t know if I ever will.” Scott took a step back. “I’m glad you had a good time, Vince.”

“You still haven’t told me what you’ve been up to.” Vincent lowered his voice.

“I went to school and didn’t like it, so I dropped out and stayed with Michael for a while.” Scott avoided looking into Vincent’s eyes as he stepped to the side, idly peeking into a few boxes that were stacked against the wall.

“Then?” Vincent insisted after a moment of silence.

“Then, I got a job at Freddy Fazbear’s and moved here,” Scott hesitated, feeling the sting of regret in his chest as he watched Vincent nod in reply. “It was boring without you around.”

“That’s it?”

“Yeah.” Looking up, Scott met Vincent’s eyes. “That’s it.”

“Scott, please…” Vincent reached forward, delicately taking Scott’s hand. “Promise that, someday, you’ll tell me what you’ve really been doing these past few years.”

Scott took a step toward Vincent.

“I’ve already told you-”

“I know.” Vincent was softly smiling as he let go of one of Scott’s hands to lay a hand on the side of his face. “Whenever you’re ready, I want you to tell me everything. I don’t care how long I have to wait.” Vincent paused for a moment, taking a breath. “I know you’ve been thinking about something. I see it every time you look at me.”

“I’m not ready.”

“That’s okay.”

Vincent pressed his lips against Scott’s for only a moment before pulling away and wandering into the kitchen. Hearing plates clatter together from across the room, Scott sat down on the couch and simply observed his surroundings. The stacks of boxes towered over him now. He couldn’t imagine fitting all of Vincent’s stuff into his tiny apartment.

Did he want Vincent to move out?

No, of course not. Scott couldn’t stand to live alone anymore. If Vincent hadn’t been planning to return to Colorado, Scott would have already moved out of his apartment and started knocking on Michael’s door, begging for a place to stay. Living with Vincent was the best option that Scott had, and he knew it.

He stood up and paced across the room, pushing the swinging doors open and leaning against the tile wall.

“Vincent?”

Vincent set down the dish in his hand before he could lift it into the cupboard, turning around to face Scott.

“Yeah?”

“If I told you the truth, what would you say?”

The doorbell rang. Jeremy could hear it from outside of the apartment as he stood beside Scott on the porch.

“I’m not ready,” Scott muttered. 

“You need to go home, Scott. You’ve been missing for weeks.” 

“William was right; I don’t think I can look Vincent in the eye, not after what I did.”

Jeremy’s eyes flickered over to Scott.

“Are you gonna tell him?” he asked, turning his head.

“I don’t know.” Scott shifted his weight between his feet, the wooden planks creaking. “I mean, I’ll tell him where I was, but everything else…”

“Yeah.”

There was a moment of silence. Jeremy rang the doorbell again.

“Could you stick around for a few minutes after we go inside?” Scott glanced toward the window, which was completely covered with a thick curtain. The fabric stirred as if someone passed by it.

“Sure, I can.”

“Thank you.”

The door clicked as it opened, Vincent stepping in front of the door before freezing in shock.

“Scott…” Vincent uttered, as if he had nearly forgotten how to say it. “You- You’re alive…”

Vincent stepped forward, beaming as he wrapped his arms around Scott.

“You’re ali-” 

He was cut off by a soft yelp, pulling away to find Scott’s hand cupped around his bandaged shoulder.

“He just got out of the hospital,” Jeremy explained somberly. “I found him with a stab wound in his shoulder.”

Vincent knelt to the ground, grasping Scott’s hand and staring up into his pained eyes.

“Where was he?” Vincent’s eyes didn’t leave Scott’s. “Who stabbed him?”

Jeremy gently nudged Scott’s shoulder.

“Scott?” He muttered. “Do you want me to tell Vincent what I saw?”

“No-” Scott shook his head, staring down at Vincent and his disheveled hair and the old t-shirt and sweatpants that Scott had rarely seen him wear. Grasping onto Vincent’s hands, Scott could practically feel the grief radiating off of him. 

“It was William Afton, wasn’t it?” Vincent shot a concerned glance at Jeremy. “He tried to kill you.”

“He tried to kill me…” Scott mumbled emptily, unsure if he believed his own words.

“Did he do anything else?”

Shaking his head again, Scott broke eye contact with Vincent.

“When he first got admitted,” Jeremy added. “They said that he was dehydrated and that he had a mild chemical burn in his throat.”

“Chemical burn?” Vincent’s gaze flickered from Jeremy to Scott. “Did he try to poison you?”

“I- I don’t know-” Scott choked out, his heart beginning to beat erratically in his chest. “I don’t remember anything else-”

“Hey,” Vincent squeezed Scott’s hands tightly, lowering his voice and attempting to quell his own anxiety as well as Scott’s. “Hey, I’m sorry. I won’t ask you any more questions.” He looked up at Jeremy with a sympathetic gaze. “Maybe we should wait a day or two before we talk about this.”

“That sounds like a good plan.” Jeremy took a step back. “Will you guys be okay if I go home until then?”

Scott nodded, attempting to take slow, steady breaths even though his heart refused to stop racing.

“Thank you, Jeremy,” Vincent replied, pulling himself to his feet. “Thank you for bringing Scott home. If there’s anything you need, don’t be afraid to ask.”

“It’s not a problem, really; I’m just glad that I was able to bring him home.” Jeremy patted Scott on the back before turning around, glancing at the couple once more. “See you guys later.”

With a wave of his hand, Jeremy was walking down the stairs of the apartment complex, his footsteps gradually fading away.

“You have no idea how happy I am to see you,” Vincent murmured, still holding tightly onto Scott’s hand to ensure that he truly was there. “This place felt so empty without you, Scott.”

Vincent led Scott through the open apartment door, closing it behind them as they stepped further inside. The apartment was dark, the only light source streaming in from between the curtains on the windows. When he flipped the light switch, Scott almost expected the apartment to be a cluttered mess.

It wasn’t. The apartment was clean except for a few throw pillows and a blanket that had fallen on the floor. It was just as Scott had seen it before he left for William’s house.

“Home, sweet home, right?” Vincent joked, reaching out to playfully punch Scott’s shoulder but quickly pulling his hand away. “If I had known you were coming home, I would have cleaned up a bit.”

“It’s alright.” Scott turned toward the bedroom door, noticing how the room was still a mess and the bed hadn’t been made. “It’s the same.”

“Yeah,” Vincent replied hesitantly. “It’s been kind of uneventful these past few weeks. I haven’t done much besides…” He trailed off, watching as Scott walked past him and stared up at the decorations on the wall. “...looking for you…”

Taking a seat on the couch, Vincent’s eyes were locked on Scott, watching as he looked around the house as if it was completely foreign to him. Eventually, Scott noticed Vincent’s staring and looked back at him.

“Oh, sorry,” Scott mumbled as he sat down beside Vincent with a sigh.

“What are you apologizing for?”

“I don’t know.” Scott’s voice began to quiver. “I’m sorry for disappearing, and for leaving you alone, and for…” He took a shallow breath. “...for everything.”

“You don’t need to apologize.” Vincent reached out, hesitantly brushing his hand against Scott’s back. “You’re safe here; everything is okay.”

“This is all my fault.” Scott glanced down at Vincent’s clothes before turning to apprehensively scan the entire apartment. Vincent had been devastated, and nothing had changed in the weeks that Scott was absent. “I did this to you.”

“It’s not your fault-” Vincent attempted to console Scott, realizing that his words were falling on deaf ears. “Scott, I need you to listen to me.”

“I’m sorry…” Scott whimpered, curling up against the armrest of the couch and burying his face in his arms. “I’m so sorry.” He gasped for air as he sobbed, recoiling every time Vincent tried to comfort him.

“Come to bed, Scott,” Vincent asked later that night, kneeling beside the couch. “Please come to bed with me.”

“I don’t know if I…” Scott trailed off, his left hand idly touching his right shoulder. “If I should…”

“I promise, I won’t hurt you. I just need to know that you’re still here with me.”

That was it. Scott knew that Vincent didn’t trust him. It was understandable, too; Scott wouldn’t trust Vincent if he decided one day to pack up and disappear in the middle of the woods one day. Why did he expect to be forgiven so easily-

“Scott?” Vincent gently tapped his knee, trying to get his attention. “Do you want the bed to yourself?”

“No- I-” He stammered, nearly forgetting what Vincent had just said. “I can sleep with you. That’s okay.”

“Want to change those bandages before we go to bed?” Vincent rested his hand on Scott’s arm. “I can help if you need me to.”

“Would you?” Scott reluctantly asked, remembering with a shiver the first time he saw the wound clearly. He never made an attempt to see it again.

[plague-of-insomnia]

WIP Wednesday: Synchronize, Ch 4

Hey, all! I am so close to finishing the next chapter, and wanted to share another little snippet with you. I absolutely am in love with Tanaka & Seb in this fic, and I hope you’ll enjoy this tender scene between them as much as I have.

“Jiji. I’m sorry.”

“Hmm?” Tanaka asked without looking up, focused on Sebastian’s lower leg now.

“For . . . this. For ruining your retirement.”

That made Tanaka stop. He set down Sebastian’s leg, placing a pillow under his knee to support it. Then he draped the blanket over it so Sebastian wouldn’t be cold, before perching on the edge of the mattress. He took Sebastian’s hand in his, smoothing his fingers over the polish as he smiled warmly.

“You may not be my blood, but you are my child in every sense of the word, and if I could lay my life down here to restore your health, I would do it without a second of hesitation.”

Sebastian felt his breath catch. He could see Tanaka was dead serious. He meant every single word.

“You shouldn’t have to.” Sebastian’s gaze drifted to the glass doors. With the darkness out and light within, he could just barely make out their reflections. His, chained to the bed, and Tanaka, looking so small and frail.

Tanaka leaned forward, cradling Sebastian’s head as he planted a kiss on his crown. “That’s just what happens when you become a father. Maybe someday, you’ll understand.” His smile was affectionate as he leaned back, tucking some stray hairs behind Sebastian’s ear. “I don’t have any regrets. Not about being with Vincent, as short as our time together was, nor about raising you and your brother. And certainly not taking care of you when you’ve needed me.”

Sebastian reached for Tanaka’s hand again. “I—I am going to get better. Right, Jiji? Maybe not like I was before, but—”

“You will. You have.”

Sebastian scoffed.

“You may not realize it, but I could feel resistance when I was doing the stretches today. And it wasn’t just from stiffness. And it wasn’t spasms. It was you. And I also noticed you were slightly stronger when Dr. Albrecht was examining you. I think this new treatment is working. Slowly, but surely.”

Sebastian felt his eyes mist and blinked rapidly to try and clear his vision. “Agni has reminded me of everything I’ve lost. It hurts so much. But it also makes me want—”

“Want what?”

“All the things I had before. Things I thought I couldn’t ever have again. He—he makes me hope, Jiji.”

Tanaka cradled Sebastian’s face, rubbing his thumb affectionately over his five o’clock shadow. He would need a shave tomorrow. Maybe he’d ask Agni to do it. “That’s a good thing.”

“I’m scared, though. What if—what if I hope for something I can’t have? What if I put all of my eggs into this basket, and then I find out they’re all cracked and rotten and I was never—”

Tanaka pulled Sebastian’s hands from his face, holding both firmly in his. “Listen to me. Hope is never wasted. If this treatment doesn’t work, we will find something else. OK? You’re strong, and I love you, and I am not going anywhere. That’s my choice, no matter what your brother may have said.” Of course Tanaka would realize the source of many of Sebastian’s doubts. “You remind me every day of Vincent, and the love I have for him that will always be with me. We will get through this. Together.”

Tanaka stretched and snagged the box of tissues from the nearby table and offered them to Sebastian, whose eyes had leaked of their own damn accord after all.

Reblogs always appreciated! :)

-> Read Synchronize on AO3 <-

Fic Summary: Agni, a home-care nurse, has had his share of difficult patients, but now he's up for his biggest challenge yet. Sebastian is young, seriously ill, and angry, but Agni is determined to help him anyway. Will the two be able to synchronize and move forward, or will Sebastian forever let his bitterness over his past trauma hold him back?

[leeus-writing]

Suddenly finding Her

The request was: Vincent Soulmates NSFW

Suddenly finding Her

Soul mates, wasn’t a term that Vincent believed in. After all, why would your ‘Soul Mate’ betray you? Wasn’t Lucrecia supposed to be his soul mate. She left him, for Hojo. Where was she now? And what was he now?

Vincent shook his head.

People who clamed they had found their Soulmates had ‘markings’. Tattoos, nothing but tattoos.

Vincent sighed and sipped his drink. He’d leave the bar soon, the talk of Soul mates was annoying enough in every day life but, having it on TV blurting out across the entire Bar was almost too much. The pain in his heart was still healing. Everyday that hole got a little smaller, but right now, it felt like it was being torn open.

Laughter, like chimes on a wind chime reached his ears. He turned a little and saw her. She was sat with friends laughing and joking. She placed her hand over her mouth stifling the laugh as her friend mimed something.

Vincent downed his drink and stood up. Something caught his attention as someone let out a yelp. Vincent moved fast, catching the woman with the chime like laugh just before her chair hit the floor. She looked up at him, eyes locking together. Something in his body slammed closed. A weight lifted from Vincent’s chest, and it was like he caught his breath for the first time.

“T-thank you,” Her voice was so small her hand pressed to his chest.

Vincent nodded and let go after she righted herself. He frowned seeing a some red curls and dots on her arm.

“Umm… Nice tattoo,” he commented gesturing to them.

“I… What? I don’t have t-” she cut off looking at her arm.

Her eyes widened and she looked at Vincent who shifted a little on his feet. He was confused, and cocked his head to one side.

“You… never had that before?” He asked.

She shook her head.

Slowly Vincent unbuttoned his shirt and there on his chest was a new mark. Red Curls and dots. Identical to hers. His eyes widened and he looked at her.

Soul mates.

|  |

She turned and muttered something to her friends who all looked a little excited. One even clapped and gave her a thumbs up. She turned to Vincent and hooked her arm in his leading him away.

“We… Better talk,” She said to him.

Her voice was filled with nerves. Why wouldn’t she be, this man, whom she’d never met was supposed to be HER life partner. Her Soul mate.

They sat at a booth, ordered some more drinks, and snacks. She introduced herself to him, told him about things. He smiled listening to her, she sounded fun. Like a breath of fresh air. Different to Vincent, but in a good way.

Eventually the night moved into early morning. She stood smiling at Vincent.

“Um, do you want to come back to mine. I’m renting a small apartment nearby. We can talk some more…” He said hands gripped.

Was this to far? Could people do things wrong and loose their soul mate forever? She smiled and giggled a little.

“Sure,” She replied.

Vincent nodded turning to go. She ran to his side walking beside him, picking up the conversation again. Listening to his story. He was reluctant to open up about his past. About what happened with Lucrecia, just commenting that she was a past girlfriend.

Vincent opened the door to his rented apartment, their eyes locking together again. She reached up and kissed him.

Vincent responded in kind, cupping her face with his good hand, shutting the door behind him. He picked her up pressing her into the wall. She picked at his buttons as Vincent slipped his hand up her skirt, clutching her butt. She gasped a little as his lips moved to her neck. Her hands ran across his chest, feeling a marks of his scars.

Vincent slipped her into a carry position moving her to the sofa. Laying her gently down on the cushions. He positioned himself above her, hand up her skirt again, pulling her panties free. Fingers going deep into her already wet Pussy. She moaned thrusting into his hand needing more.

Vincent enjoyed feeling her rolling on his fingers. He continued to kiss up her neck fingers moving in a rhythm. Her hands moved down from his shirt, working on his belt and leather trousers. Feeling her hands into his pants. Vincent let out an animalistic growl as her hand wrapped around his thick cock.

She pumped him in time with the rhythm of his fingers. Moaning into each kiss. He shifted off of her pulling his cock free, positioning himself over her he push into her body. She gasped pushing back. squeezing her eyes shut. Both marks were glowing now as the two of them fucked.

His body slammed hard and deep into her pussy. Her hands gripped the cushion pillow behind her. Vincent thumbed her clit and her body squeezed hard as she came in a long loud moan. The action causing Vincent to fall over the edge with her. His seed spilling into her body with two shuddering thrusts, snarling.

He slowly sank down onto her body kissing her slowly.

“Hmm, I think I could do this again. Getting to know you, having fun with you,” She whispered kissing him back.

Vincent’s heart leapt, the pain now a distant memory.

[sketchy-rosewitch]

Soap: Bo Sinclair x f!reader

Not historically accurate Cowboy AU

A/N: Jesus this took forever, sorry about that.

Lester and

Vincent

Warnings: Mentions of blood

Masterlist

You watch from your spot next to Madame Cheryl as three men walk in. They stop in front of her and the one in the middle smirks. He has a confidence to him that the other two men don’t. You look up to read your Madame’s expression when he starts to talk. She’s smiling widely.

You’re getting your first job tonight.

The other two men leave with other girls from the brothel. You didn’t pay attention to their names, you barely paid attention to Bo’s, only remembering it cause it’s so short. Madame Cheryl hands Bo his key and you awkwardly wrap yourself around his arm, walking towards the stairs and to his room.

You let go and quickly make your way to the bathroom starting a warm bath for Bo. From what you could see from under his hat he had dirt and blood caked on his face. Your face scrunches and you stand to get the soaps and a towel from the cabinet. A washcloth sits on the counter and you grab it draping on the side of the tub.

You walk back into the bedroom and Bo has almost everything off already, hanging or setting by the vanity chair. “Would you like help with the rest?” Your voice sounds meek. It makes Bo smirk.

“Sure.”

You unbutton his shirt and your hands begin to sweat as you see him shirtless. You remind yourself that you were bound too. It doesn’t stop you from staring at his strong arms and stomach. You undo his pants and take them off. Your hand reaches for Bo’s, you take it and guide him into the bathroom.

“Why don’t you join me.” It’s a statement, he says it as he gets into the tub. Quick to please you take off your lingerie and step into the tub next to him. The tub is huge, it fits two people comfortably. You grab the washcloth and dip it into the water.

Bo grabs you by the waist and sets you on his lap. You let out a yelp and your face heats. You avoid eye contact and wash the grime off his face.

“Is it true you’re a virgin?” Bo asks, you look down ashamed. Yes you’re worth more if you’re a virgin but it also meant you weren’t experienced and probably weren’t good at satisfying men.

“Y-yes…” You admit, you wipe his chest and shoulders.

“Hey, nothin’ to be ashamed of, I’m just askin’ cause I don’t wanna hurt you.” Bo takes your chin and turns it up so you’re looking at him. You nod and take his hands rubbing the wash cloth up and down his arms. “You’re very pretty.”

“Thank you..” Your voice is quiet. “You’re very handsome.”

There’s a small silence before you push yourself out of your comfort zone. “What brings you here tonight?”

You cup water in your hands and wet his hair, then take lye soap and massage it into his scalp.

“Brothers and I have been travelin’ for a bit. Thought I’d do something nice for once and got us a few rooms here.” Bo answers.

“I’d like to travel. Never been outside of this town.”

Bo hums in acknowledgement. “Think you should find a nice man who likes to travel and go with him.” Bo replies.

“Are you a nice man?” The words come out before you even think yet you still cover your mouth in shock after. Bo chuckles and shakes his head before smirking at you and rubs your thighs under the water.

“No. You wouldn’t wanna travel with me even if I was.”

You cup more water and pour it over his head, taking your hands multiple times to the water to rinse his hair out. “Why is that?” You ask genuinely, your heart aches a bit.

“Get a lot of blood on my hands, girl.”

“Oh, well I think that’s okay cause everyone kinda has to one way or another.”

You get off his lap and he cleans the rest of himself off, you get another towel from the cabinet and wrap yourself in it before walking across the room and getting Bo’s warm towel. He stands and you kindly hand it to him, he ruffles his hair in it and wraps himself, walking into the bedroom. You unplug the drain and put everything else away. You grab a small comb and head into the bedroom.

Bo is laying on the bed, leaning against the headboard when you come in. You get on the bed too, very carefully making sure you don’t fall on the mattress. You sit on his lap and feel something poking your thigh. Your breath shakes but you ignore it and comb through his wet hair. It’s soft and short.

Bo’s hands rub your thighs, he then takes your towel and unwraps it. Cold air hits your skin giving you instant goosebumps. He kisses your collarbone and moves slowly up your neck. Your breath hitches and you freeze when he makes it to your ear.

“You okay hun?” Bo whispers, your mouth is dropped open but no words come out, so instead you nod. Bo let’s put a breathy laugh and leans back taking the comb from your hand and setting it on the nightstand. Bo wraps his arms around you and turns so you’re below him. “Tell me if something is wrong alright?”

Your head frantically nods. He kisses down your body and on each of your thighs. Small squeals come out of you, then something wet touches your cunt. Your back arches. You look down to see Bo’s face buried between your thighs. His tongue licks at your clit and you feel something go inside you. It curls and hits a spot that again makes your back arch. Your eyes roll back. “I’m- Bo, I-“ You whine. A comprehend something else stretching you and realize it’s Bo fingering you. His fingers thrust and curl in you and you writhe. It hurts but it feels good. You don’t know what to do.

He picks up his pace and goes back and forth between licking and sucking your clit.

Suddenly a knot forms in your stomach and you pant. “Bo, I- please keep going, I’m gonna cum Bo.”

His tongue flicks your clit faster and that takes you over the edge. Your eyes roll back and you moan loudly.

You pant and look up at him smiling a bit tiredly. You gently take his face and kiss him, tasting yourself on his lips. Bo feels up and down your body.

“You doin’ okay sweetheart?”

“Mmhm..”

Bo kisses your neck gently then starts to suck on it leaving a mark. Your body grinds up at him lightly and he chuckles.

“You want me that badly?”

You nod frantically and watch as he lines himself up, he slowly slides in stretching your hole out and you arch your back. The feeling overwhelms you and you start touching Bo around his neck and chest. You move slightly and he starts fucking you.

His hips buck into your and it feels like you’re being stretched over and over again. You whine and move with Bo trying to get more of that feeling. He groans softly into your ear, hugging around you and holding your head with both of his hands he humps into you.

You let out small mewls and kiss into his shoulder, scratching his back. Bo quickens his pace and as his movements become frantic your orgasm builds up. You kiss his ear and cry softly.

“Keep going please. I’m gonna cum.”

Bo let’s out another groan and that puts you over the edge. Your hips buck up and back arches as you let out a loud cry, your thighs tingle and you pant. Bo quickly pulls out and pumps himself until he comes on your thighs.

You let out a small whine and grab Bo forcing him to lay on you. He kisses your neck lightly and you giggle.

“Bo.”

“Yeah?”

“I want you to be my only.” You touch his hair which has surprisingly dried up some. He looks up at you with his brows furrowed.

“Only?”

“I know you said you ain’t nice but I want to go with you. I’m okay with you getting blood on your hands and I don’t think anyone else will treat you how you treat me.” You admit, your eyes are glassy and so are Bo’s as you look into them.

“Are you sure you would want that. I’m not backing out and there’s no backing out for you once you come with us. Told you we ain’t nice men.” Bo’s face turns serious.

“I’m not backing out. I’m going with you.”

“Then it’s settled.”

[fishyviolet]

(no worries about a fast response! it's also late for me lol, and this'll be kinda long. +kinda comes with the hc territory, but tw for discussions of trauma, death, and suicide) i want to start this by saying i'm not trying to like demonize you or be argumentative! hc is a special interest of mine and i love analyzing the themes of it. and i definitely agree that vincent and charles have a deeply toxic and unhealthy relationship in canon, and personally i think it's really weird for people to just portray them as uwu soft gay boys in love because it really just romanticizes a dynamic that isn't good for either character

however, i do also think that boiling it down to "toxic scary horrible for each other forever" kinda doesn't fit with the themes of the series, and i don't think charles and vincent are always destined to be toxic and horrible. one of the main themes of hc to me is how circumstance impacts the healing of trauma and mental illness, and how that goes on to impact relationships. almost all the characters in hc are deeply mentally ill & traumatized and prevented from coping with this as they're retraumatized again and again, with no access to help, a big part of the true realm which translates to the largely metaphorical false realm - charlotte is destined to be the abused heroine, anri lashes out at everyone in self defense, charles dies and tortures himself in his own afterlife, vincent dies feeling deeply alone, etc. the characters deeply yearn for connection - vincent asks charles to be present for his last moments, charles and anri enter a relationship, etc - but this is distorted by their circumstance. charles' mental health restrains him from opening up, anri is too guarded to truly be vulnerable, vincent's view of life is heavily distorted by his delusions, etc

and while ep 3 does end on a more optimistic note (it isn't happy, but charles acknowledges a lot of his own flaws and moves on from the house, with etherane's commentary especially implying that it's the start of a healing journey) the main hc series is still largely deeply tragic and depressing. i'd like to add some text from near the end of hc3, when charles is discarding a vincent vessel and discussing him, as i feel it speaks to his self awareness with vincent in particular:

q84: Weren't you supposed to keep him safe?

charles: ...Yeah. I really messed up. In the end, all I did was postpone the inevitable. No matter what, there's no way I could've helped him. There was no way of "fixing" him, either.

q84: Well, duh, you can't go around trying to "fix" people. There's no way of doing that, anyway.

charles: I knew that somewhere on a subconscious level, didn't I? That's why the House is the way it is. Were I convinced I could change him, or anyone... They would've ended up being the brainwashed, unnaturally happy versions of themselves. Never once have I wished for that. However, the images of people I knew still became distorted in this place. Especially Vincent's. I was so fascinated with the idea of him that I failed to see him as a real person. That's why in the House, he's all but an empty shell. An imaginary construct.

before laying him to rest. it took putting himself through horrible cycle after horrible cycle to acknowledge the flaws in his own life, because he clung so hard to every coping mechanism he could.

but heaven's gate is noted to be a much quieter (and in my opinion, softer) visual novel - it examines a world where the most harsh aspects of hc aren't present (scarlett isn't there, nobody dies) and while the characters are still in bad circumstances, they're allowed to connect much more, especially with vincent and charles meeting earlier

but this doesn't mean hg is happy, just less intense. the characters are still in bad circumstances and still have deep amounts of trauma. but hg presents the characters an opportunity to heal from that trauma, even if by the end of the game, they're still in bad places mentally - it isn't a happy ending, it's a world where they someday have the hope of one. vincent is alive and interacts more heavily with charles, charles has less stress, and anri doesn't move away. even before the end, charles and vincent get more direct opportunities to bond, especially in sharing their works - in particular, i think of the scene where vincent says he has something to show charles, and when charles asks if it's a love confession, vincent says "almost" and shares aether, a work about how isolated he feels. he may not connect to charles, but he's willing to expose a vulnerable part of himself - a deeply personal act that he isn't shown to take with any other character, even ones he makes an effort to be friendly with.

the main point where i disagree with you is that the ending scene is representative of why they're so bad for each other - because while i agree it calls out how toxic both sides of the relationship are, i also think it's less a moment of "oh, we're bad for each other, we can't be friends/together" and more a moment that can start their healing journey. it's a scene that explicitly parallels other moments in hc, but it ends on an undoubtedly optimistic note.

the ending scene is one where charles and vincent truly open up and recognize the flaws in their relationship - charles accepts that he highly idealizes vincent and has trouble seeing him as his own person, and vincent admits that no matter how much he wants to, he's never been able to connect with other people and craves a sense of control. they have extremely different reactions to their trauma - charles desires to become one with another person, to lose his own individuality, and vincent is so walled off from other people he isn't even sure who he's supposed to be outside of an idealized view of himself that he projects to other people.

the difference from the main series is that nobody dies, and there's hope in the future. vincent admits to charles he tried to kill himself, and that he wants to connect to others but finds it nearly impossible; charles admits he hasn't been treating vincent fairly and hasn't been trying to get to know the real him. the ending text in particular i feel is poignant. an excerpt:

Neither of us can find comfort in each other's words. Neither of us know what to do.

"I want you to live," I croak out, not to a corpse, not to an imaginary construct, not to a vacant shell, but to Vincent Fennell himself.

History repeats. I can't see his face.

"I see," Vincent says simply. No tears, no surprises. That's how Vincent Fennell is. Yet, his words sound almost thankful. Vincent gets up and extends his hand to me.

"Congratulations on graduating, Charles." I reach out and accept his hand.

The future still remains uncertain. Yet, I feel like I'll be able to fall asleep tonight. The sun rises. A new day has come.

this parallels old scenes in multiple ways - the entire scene, charles keeps repeating that he has a sense of deja vu, that he's been here before, mirroring vincent's suicide scene (also on a high location where he has his first true heart to heart with vincent). charles outright echoes frei's line on love and individuality - he wants to lose his own sense of self to connect to vincent due to his own self loathing. and most vitally, he echoes the scene of charlotte and c in hc2 where c asks charlotte to kill herself with him - both of them beg vincent/c not to die, not because they can convince the other to live, but because they want the other person to be in their life. "i want you to live." it's a selfish wish, but a wish born out of some form of care and connection.

at this point, their relationship isn't healthy. charles is just admitting that he really doesn't know vincent at all, and vincent is just admitting how distant he feels from everyone. but with the ending of hc3 being so heavily focused on moving on and healing (with etherane explicitly talking about how it was related to their own mental health journey), and with the ending lines of "yet, i feel like i'll be able to fall asleep tonight. the sun rises. a new day has come," i can't see this scene as just a pessimistic confirmation that the two are bad for each other.

to me at least, this scene signifies that though they've had a very rough and toxic relationship, vincent and charles are willing to acknowledge that, want to change, and in opening up to each other and confronting their flaws, their relationship can evolve. charles is accepting that vincent isn't the idealized person in his mind. vincent is accepting that he can't project a perfect image to everyone forever. they can never forget their past, but they can help each other heal from it

in conclusion because i know this is long as hell, i don't disagree that vincharles is a deeply flawed and often toxic relationship, but i also don't necessarily think it's inherently a cannibalistic and self-destructive one - i think hc tackles a lot of themes of uncontrollable circumstance hindering healing from trauma and mental health, and those things impacting interpersonal relationships, and the end of the series is largely about confronting those issues and trying to heal. and i think another big part of the series is that relationships that may be unhealthy due to unresolved trauma and mental health issues may not always be that way - and that hurt people, even if they aren't in a good state now, can help each other heal, even if the journey is hard.

// anonymous submission

Everything below is my thoughts/comments

Oh i absolutely agree w your points! I never really meant to imply that the ending scene of HG was meant to be purely pessimistic or that i was viewing it as such; obviously, admitting one's faults (Charles acknowledging that he wasn't seeing Vincent as a person) is the first step to healing them, and in this case specifically he goes a step further and makes an effort to amend that fault (indeed speaking to Vincent Fennel himself). I was more trying to reinforce how insane it is to me that some people see their relationship as being way more genuine than it actually is Despite context like this. like I personally completely forgot the dialog of the exchange you cited between charles and q84 just because my memory is shit (and i probably need to reread hc at some point soonish). im sure plenty of others are also just as forgetful as I am in this regard. but the ending scene in heavens gate is literally the climax of the story so it's a lot easier to internalize and remember and factor into interpretation and such. thats why i brought it up in specific: when this is the climax of the story, how can one forget that charles is completely deluding himself in regards to how he sees Vincent?!?

i agree that the climax of heaven's gate is very optimistic. I think if vincent and charles worked hard and had the desire to do so, they could theoretically enter a deeper relationship, whether that be a true friendship or a romance or whatever. i liek heavens gate

also re: the Daydream rpf bit that was mainly a joke LMAO i absolutely agree that what vincent represents in The House is far deeper than that! i just thought the connection was funny :] your thoughts are super awsome i will be rereading it if i ever wanna think abt hc agai yayyy