Who Is The Sinclair Most Likely To..

Who is the Sinclair most likely to..

Use dish soap as body wash?

Eat a grilled cheese with a fork?

Let out an entirely involuntary and rather undignified scream when seeing a mouse run across the floor?

Pick something out of their teeth with the tip of a knife?

Trip over something they dropped on the floor and are too lazy to pick up again and again and again?

Drain the hot water tank giving themselves a 'spa day'?

Kellyyyyy!!!💕💕💕

Hmm...

Okay...

Dish soap as body wash: Lester. Nothing else gets him squeaky clean after getting covered in mud, shit and blood after one of his shifts! He thinks "good against grime" translates well to human skin, and it horrifies Vincent every time his softer skin scrapes against Lester's dry skin.

Eat a grilled cheese with a fork: Bo and Vincent both like to lean up against the counter, cutting into a grilled cheese with the fork sideways and then scraping it against the ceramic plate in a nails-across-a-chalkboard noise which makes poor Lester gag, when they're trying to cut it. There's a knife right there in the drawer but nooooo🙄that's too easy🙄

Let out an entirely involuntary and rather undignified scream when seeing a mouse run across the floor? Bo! Lester just coos at it and scoops it up because it's his new friend, and Vincent freezes before he shrugs and lets it live. A few seconds longer before Jonesy finds it, anyway...

Pick something out of their teeth with the tip of a knife? Bo!!! He's cut the inside of his mouth too many times. Vincent just rolls his eye and pushes a bottle of beer towards Bo - it'll sting like a bitch but it might serve to sterilise the wound! Lester also does it, but he doesn't hurt himself. He's too good with a knife.

Trip over something they dropped on the floor and are too lazy to pick up again and again and again? Allllll three brothers do this and they're forever tripping over their own shit!!!!

Drain the hot water tank giving themselves a 'spa day'? All three!!! They shower in separate houses.😂Bo in the main house, Vincent in the work basement and Lester in his own house on the outskirts of Ambrose.

AAAAAAGH I LOVED THIS!!

I love how we get to know reader's problems with her old life throughout the story and how it impacts her thoughts about what to do and how to feel. You really wrote the conflicting feelings out so welllllll!!

I love how Bo is trying so hard to be good to the reader, but also being his teue self - a bit of a grump and easily irritated (especially at the beginning)

All in all, I loved loved loved LOVED this story, thank you so much for putting me on the taglist! <3

Ya ain't love me... yet IV (Bo Sinclair x female reader)

Hello everyone! I'm so happy you seemed to have enjoyed this little Stockholm syndrome series with Bo x f!reader. If you have missed it, the first part is here (you can find everything on my House Of Wax masterlist too).

Hope you'll enjoy this finale <3

Warnings: no proof reading, mentions of sexual activities, mentions of murders, a little bit of angst, fluff.

For once, you opened your eyes before Bo. You slowly remembered what you did with him the night before as you felt his naked body against yours. You truly wanted to hate it and to feel bad about it. But you couldn’t. You had truly enjoyed yourself and you even surprised yourself thinking you wouldn’t mind having sex with him from now on. You watched him rest. You took the time to observe him and you found him handsome. You had noticed the marks on his wrists last night, and you wondered what happened to him. You almost felt sad and angry. It was strange, because you were supposed to hate him and to enjoy his suffering. Something was changing, or had changed already. You were wondering about it a lot. Especially because you knew you were getting closer to a crossroad; soon you would need to pick between getting back to your previous life or staying by his side forever. 

It was obvious he was trusting you now. You were certain that if he always woke up before you, it was because he couldn’t let his guard down. After last night, he could. He was probably thinking you were in love with him now. You started to play with his curls, without realising it, as you were thinking about the consequences of your future choices.

You would never be able to truly get back to your previous existence because your boyfriend and friends were dead, and because your family and the police were probably looking for you all. It had been months you were missing now. It meant that you would need to tell them about Ambrose and about the Sinclairs. Something inside of you hurt at the thought of destroying their existences. And you weren’t too sure you wanted to face them in front of a judge. The Sinclairs treated you well in their own way. Plus, you didn’t want your family to treat you differently than before, but after this, they would pity you or not understand you. You would be the girl who got kidnapped and lost everything in the South of the country. You would be a survivor, you would be forced to go see a therapist to talk about everything. And you would be forced to realise that maybe it was a mistake, that maybe you wanted to live in Ambrose, away from your previous life.

Indeed, a growing part of you thought you might be free in Ambrose because you didn’t have to deal with your parents’ plans for you. Your dead boyfriend started to talk about having children with you because your parents told him it would be a good idea. He agreed with them. And it felt forced on you. Your parents picked the studies and the job they wanted for you. It had always been their plans for you before your own. Your friends were good to you, most of the time, but they were dead now and you weren’t too sure you were missing them that much. Here, you could restart your choices. You were certain you could find a job near Ambrose once Bo would trust you enough to let you go. It would be something you truly wanted to do. You could also learn how to paint with Vincent. You could laugh around with Lester. You could… be happy with Bo. Plus, you like to have a town for yourself because here, no one could tell you what to do or how to dress or how to behave.

You were free.

You unconsciously kissed Bo’s cheek and snuggled against him as your mind kept wandering to an existence in Ambrose. You didn't want to find this so appealing, but you also didn’t want to come back to the real world. You snapped back to reality when you felt fingers gently tracing your spine. Bo tightly hugged you as he fully woke up. He wanted to ask you if you were his girlfriend now, but instead he asked you what you were thinking about.

“Ambrose” you replied and he tilted his head to the side, confused

“How so, baby girl?” he hummed, drawing abstract patterns on your skin

“It’s not such of a bad place” you said and you weren’t even sure anymore if you were lying or if you were telling the truth.

“‘S a better place now ya’re here” Bo murmured, lazily cuddling with you.

He reluctantly went to work that morning.

You were quite silent that day, as you couldn’t stop thinking about what your life had become and about what you should do. You thought you needed to occupy yourself or you would go crazy, so you decided to bake something. You had never done this before but you knew the brothers had a sweet tooth. In the middle of your preparation, you realised you were making a chocolate cake to make them happy. You didn’t have the time to question it because you felt Bo kissing your shoulder. You had to resist the urge to smile at the gesture. It was scaring you; did you fall in love with him? Did you want to be a Sinclair, after everything that happened? Was it too late to run away?

“Watcha doin’?” Bo asked

“Chocolate cake” you quickly replied as he wrapped his arms around your waist and kissed your neck.

“That’s nice” he mumbled against your skin “Might convince Les to stick ‘round” he commented and you nodded.

“Hey, Bo” you whispered as an idea sparkled into your mind

“Yes, doll?” he hummed back

“Maybe we could go eat out tonight, like in a restaurant.” you offered. Bo stayed silent for a few instants, silently debating with himself

“Why?” he finally asked

“For a date… Isn’t it what you do when you have a girlfriend? Don’t you bring her to nice restaurants from time to time?” you replied with a cheeky smile. You were playing with fire. Bo turned you around and tried to read in your eyes if you meant what you just said. He cupped your face and pressed his body against yours.

“No game?” he questioned, his breath tickling your lips

“What game?” you asked back

“I’ll think ‘bout it” he finally replied before moving from you. You were quite disappointed but you didn’t say anything.

He started to cook the meal as you finished off your cake. He noticed how silent you got and he felt bad about it. He didn’t want to upset you, especially now things were getting good, especially when you were calling yourself his “girlfriend”. He was afraid you would use the restaurant to run away from him. At the same time, if he didn’t show you some trust, he knew you would always be a little bit afraid of him and he didn’t want that. If one person was supposed to never be scared of him, it was his soulmate.

“Ya really wanna go to a restaurant tonight?” he asked and you shrugged “Ah baby, don’t pout” he hummed and he hugged you. “I’ll ask Lester for the address of somethin’ nice” he finally said; he couldn’t stand your silence. You smiled.

“Really?” you excitedly asked and Bo only nodded. He felt butterflies flying in his stomach at the sight of such joy coming from you. He was wrapped around your little finger and he hoped he wasn’t making a mistake.

The whole journey to the restaurant, you thought that it was going to be the night. Tonight, you would have to make a choice. His hand on your thigh was distracting you from your thoughts though, unable to take a decision.

You and Bo had dressed up a little more than usual, and you even put on a little bit of mascara, eyeliner and red lipstick. It was the only few products you came with, but it was good enough and you could tell Bo enjoyed the sight of you all dolled up. He couldn’t stop complimenting you. And truth to be told, he wasn’t half bad himself.

When you arrived, you were surprised by the very romantic setting of the place. Bo made sure you enjoyed it as you followed the waiter to the table he reserved for the two of you. You rarely went to a restaurant like that, but you really liked it. It was a nice change. Bo was very careful because he didn’t particularly like to be surrounded by strangers, but he was eager to make you happy. Once you both decided what to eat, he took out a little box from his pocket. You raised an eyebrow at him.

“You’re getting me gifts now?” you gently teased and Bo smiled

“Bringin’ ya to a date without a gift… Ain’t feelin’ right” he shrugged.

He tried to play it cool, but he was really worried you wouldn’t like the jewel. It wasn’t something he found on one of his victims. For a first gift, he wanted something special. It was a silver chain with a little diamond on it. It used to belong to his great grandmother. It was one of the only valuable items his family ever owned, with his ring. You opened the box and gasped. You hadn’t expected something so beautiful.

“Are you sure?” you asked with wide eyes. No one ever gifted you a jewel that was so delicate, refined and pretty.

“Ya like it then?” Bo asked, quite relieved. He got up so he could help you put it on. The diamond settled right in the crook in between your collarbones, shining against your skin. It was as if the necklace had been made for you. 

“I love it, thank you so much. I have no words… You shouldn’t have” you babbled and Bo enjoyed it, shaking his head.

“Ya deserve the world, baby” he replied.

You smiled and you forgot that your plan was to find an issue and to run away from this man. How could you still want it when Bo was his absolute most charming self that night? He called you beautiful more times than you could count. He cracked quite a few jokes and he managed to make you laugh. You saw the way his eyes lit up at the sound you made and he brought your hand to his lips. He was certain things were finally getting good, and he was hoping so badly you weren’t thinking of escaping anymore, that you were in love with him, even half of what he was feeling for you would be enough for him. He was finally able to make you happy too. He flirted all dinner with you, and you couldn’t help yourself but flirt back. You were enjoying yourself and you felt like your ex boyfriend never existed. Deep down, you knew you didn’t want to run away anymore. 

But you needed to know something.

You leaned towards him and whispered so he was the only one who could hear you, not that anyone was listening to your conversation anyways.

“I need to know what’s going on in Ambrose, Bo. I can’t live with you without knowing why you do this.” you said. You didn’t want to ruin the mood, but it was important. Bo kept your hand in his and thought about the right way to answer you.

“Why askin’ me this now?” he replied and you bit down your bottom lip

“Because we’re a thing, and that I should know about it.” you said

“No, no need for ya to know ‘bout it.” he shook his head

“If you keep secrets from me, it means I’m not part of the family” you hummed and you were clearly touching something sensitive for Bo. You had noticed he was a family man.

“It’s for the House of Wax” he finally replied and he hoped it would be a good enough answer for you. You didn’t understand what that meant at all and you simply stared at him, in pure confusion. “Vinny is making wax statues,” Bo added. But you still didn't get it how it was relevant. "With the tourists"

“Oh” you simply whispered. You stayed silent for a little while. The Sinclairs weren’t just robbing and killing people, they were also using them for the House of Wax, as statues. You didn’t know how to react to this, or what to feel about it. Bo worried a little. He kissed the back of your hand once again, trying to get your attention back on him. “They’re there then” you whispered. Bo knew you were talking about your friends so he simply nodded. “And him?” you asked. Bo looked away before shaking his head. He had made sure there was nothing left of your ex boyfriend, of course.

You excused yourself to the bathroom. Bo didn’t stop you but he was on edge. He was really afraid you were going to do something stupid. He was already regretting that he told you the truth. He should have waited for the two of you to be at home, so he could have been sure, you wouldn’t have tried to escape him. He was trying very hard to convince himself that you loved him now, and that you wouldn’t care about the murders anymore.

You tied your hair up and washed your hands before refreshing your makeup. You were trying to busy yourself to not think about what to do. You were glad there was no one in the bathroom with you. 

You watched yourself in the mirror for a little while, as if you could see your future in your reflection. Your eyes first fell on the necklace Bo got you, then on your face. You noticed you didn’t seem afraid, you didn’t seem sad, you were just lost. You were supposed to want to leave, you were supposed to be disgusted by what Bo admitted to you, you were supposed to want to call the police on him and his family. 

You saw in the mirror that there was a window in the room. It was big enough for you to pass through it without too much trouble. Yes, it was your moment, you could try to run away now. 

Now or never.

But why would you want to go? You had been treated well in Ambrose and you could hope to have three dangerous men wrapped even more around your finger once you would fully forget about your past. You could be whoever you wanted to be, you could be truly happy. In your previous life, you were always thinking about your parents, your boyfriend and your friends first. What was the point now they were far away from you or dead? You didn’t want to get back to the world you used to know, you wanted everything a killer could give you.

Bo relaxed when he saw you coming back and you smiled at him.

“I’ll ask Vinny to give me a tour of the House of Wax, I’m curious about it now” you admitted and Bo tried to read on your face if you were truly alright. You grabbed his hand. “Thank you for telling me and trusting me.” you added and he nodded. “You know… Months ago you told me that I wasn’t in love with you yet. But I think I am now”

At those words, Bo kissed you like a mad man. He had never thought he would have the privilege to hear this from you, because he hadn’t been so sure he would be able win the game, but he was glad he did.

He did because even monsters deserve a happy ending.

--

Taglist : @lacychick ; @adalwolfgang ; @hollabackgrl ; @number1120 ; @the-number7 ; @hisokas-cardz ; @iwantsleepplz ; @loveinglymessedup ; @jojooasis ; @robin-the-enby

lowkey thinking rn about tsu’tey meeting a little human that’s taken sorta taken over grace’s role as a teacher

like it was never intentional, but the na’vi children just have taken such a liking to her and her stories about about earth that she became the official unofficial new teacher of the na’vi children, and tsu’tey has such mixed feelings about it

on one hand, he absolutely hates her for teaching the ridiculous teachings of the sky demons but on the other hand seeing her act so kindly to the na’vi children just makes him feel a certain way

seeing her adorn in the messy jewelry from the clans children as they all show off their new knowledge to her at the communal dinner just makes him feel a spark

it doesn’t help that he’s also one of the most popular elders amongst the young na’vi, always having a few little ones following him around, blabbering out how cool their new sa’nok is and how much she cares about them all, the knowledge of her kindness only makes his stupid crush on her grow

i just imagine the young clan members being obsessed with the two of them, leading them to always knowing random facts about the other or hanging out in sorta awkward scenarios cause the kids just love them so much <3

OHHH TEACHER READER IS ADORABLEEEEE

and the enemies to lovers aspect of it! oh my god that is just too cute, i just know that tsu'tey would see the children clinging to her and just fall over himself!!

and the idea of the kids causing havoc trying to create situations to get them together! hilarious

Hello! Do you still do diabolik lovers requests? If so please tell me how many characters you make for , love youu

Hi! Thank you for asking before requesting a matchup, I really appreciate it. However, I have to dissappoint you, because I'm not doing matchups at the moment and I don't know when I'll be doing them again...(as stated in my bio and my pinned post). Good luck elsewhere!

Things Better Unshared

(A follow-up to A Celebration for Two partially because so many people seemed to have liked it and partially because I happen to have had one of those days. And yes what is described in this story is how I suffer through migraines, which I get on occasion (I am a chronic headache sufferer though). My friend Ash, may her soul rot in the shared POTO hell we are destined for, technically gave me this plot bunny when I told her about my migraine today so hope you guys at least enjoy)

Erik was 1000% certain that you were angry at him or something and thus already rehearsing a thousand different apologies, with flowers and music and begging and crying. Actually he was already crying because again he was more than absolutely certain that you were very much angry at him.

Admittedly he was not sure why you would be mad at him though. He had not killed anyone recently, or honestly at all in the time since you told him you loved him to now and he had sort of wanted to, especially when it came to those guys who sometimes talked to you and especially that one who had actually tried to ask you out and that was certainly not acceptable in any way. But he had held himself back, remembering how murder was one of Those Things that had made Christine run from him and that you had indeed told him that you did not want him hurting anyone. What helped him to remember and internalize it was that you had voiced it as a worry that he would be hurt or taken away from you if he did anything like murder someone again and thus made it into how much you cared about him, and Erik could never bring himself to do something that could upset someone who was willing to say they loved him. He also had been holding back his wish to make you a star and trying to convince you to that effect, and he'd behaved himself with the operahouse managers and he'd even tried to do nice things for them like fix up broken props and ripped costumes. He'd loved listening to you giggle as you had recounted to him how the other performers were convinced they had some sort of guardian angel running around, a nice change from the story of the Phantom; he didn't care about their thoughts and feelings about the situation as much as he loved to know you were happy about it. And actually he was also certain you had been happy just the night before, kissing him gently goodbye before having to return to your usual days in the choir.

Yet he knew you had to be angry at him because why else would you be acting so strange? You were listless and not really talking to anyone, grimacing and holding your hands over your ears as if hating the sound of music that as always filled the operahouse. He'd only been doing his usual thing, watching over you when you couldn't physically be together, and had been looking forward to watching rehearsals, but you had this strange unhappy look on your face and he was certain it was because something was wrong and of course to his mind the only thing that came to him was that you were upset with him and thus he needed to figure out how to fix things. He couldn't bear to have you upset and now he just had to wait until everyone else left and you were alone so he could try to see if he could get to you. You'd already snapped at a few people who tried to bother you though and Erik was now just fiddling with everything he could get his hands on, his cape, some rope, a broken piece of furniture, his scarf, feeling more and more anxious.

It all came to a head as some lights went on and you practically winced, turning away. But not fast enough for your angel, attentive as he was, saw the tears in your eyes and his heart fell like a ton of stones into his stomach. He watched you slip away into a room, getting away from everyone and everything as if to flee, and finally he decided enough was enough. Quickly he made his way there, slipping through passages and hidden ways, through an opening in the wall of that room to grab you.

You flinched, you never flinched with him, and his heart raced to think he might have hurt you, but you looked at him, squinting and then buried your face in his chest. His mind raced but you whimpered and in a small voice, weak and unsteady, spoke, “It hurts so much...”

You were in pain? Physical pain? He didn't understand at first but you clung to him and he instinctively wrapped his cape around you, holding you and feeling all the more panicked.

“What hurts?” He felt so confused; he had been so sure you were.

“It's too loud, too bright, please.” You pleaded, in that sad trembling voice. And Erik, Erik never could reject a request, not from you.

It was easy enough for him to bundle you up and carry you away; walking corpse he might be, he was still strong and you fit so easily in his arms. If the surface was too loud, too bright, too anything, then he would just take you back to his home, to the darkness, to the quiet. He had no hesitation, especially as your arms looped around his neck and held onto him and lord did that make Erik want to know what was so wrong so much faster.

He did his best to bring you back though the rowing of the boat was made a little harder by the fact that you still didn't let go even in the boat. But at the same time he wouldn't complain; you were close to him, you were there in his arms, how could he possibly complain when you were right where he loved to have you so much. And you didn't seem to be angry or upset with him at all but he still didn't know what was wrong and that was somehow even worse because you said it hurt and that things were too much and he hated seeing you in pain, not to mention cry because of it.

The dim lighting of candles and the silent peace of his home by the lake seemed to bring you some peace though still you held to him. He carried you inside and took you to the bed, the easiest to keep holding you; that was what he wanted, that's what you seemed to want, and he curled around you somewhat awkwardly. He wasn't used to being the big spoon, he wasn't used to being the comforter instead of the comfortee; he still didn't know what was wrong and that was starting to make him feel panicked the longer you were silent and clinging so tight.

“Erik's sorry, please tell us how we can help,” he half whined, having brought you this far but having no idea what to do was starting to lose himself to his usual concerns, “Songbird, please, you're worrying Erik, please.”

“My head....”

“Your head?”

“It hurts so much, Erik, it feels like a needle in my eye, like sharpness in my skull, radiating back and forth and back and forth but only part of me, only part of my skull.” Your voice was small, so small, smaller than you, smaller than anything. “I can't focus, I can't see, and everything just makes it worse: the light, the sounds, movement, eating, I can't think about anything but how much it hurts. It all just compounds and makes it throb more.”

Oh. He realized, recognizing what you meant. “Do you see lights, ones that are not truly there, whether after looking at light for a second or simply out of nowhere?”

You nodded without word. He bit a swollen lip. “Then it must be hemicrania, migraine. Erik too has suffered such; the pain is....”

Impossible to truly describe, he knew that well. To think you too were undergoing such pain, unexpected, unwanted, unfair; he could not remember days in which he had one, for the pain took most memory and reality with it, leaving only the haze of existence and the depths of emotional and physical voidness. But he could remember pain, sharp, centralized at first before moving along the divide of his head; for him it was always the right side, the same as his deformity, and maybe it was connected but it never truly mattered. The pain was what did and your pain, that you too had to feel it, was what he cared about.

You whimpered again, a meek sound more suited to a child than the beautiful soul you were to him but he held you close and did what he had always wished someone had done for him in such a state: he covered your head in his cape, kissed you upon the head and spoke in the softest whisper he could muster, “You will be alright, songbird, I promise you.”

“I just want to sleep,” you mumbled.

“Then sleep you shall.”

“I should eat though.”

“Are you hungry?” You shook your head; he was not surprised. Appetite seemed to flee from the pain of the half skull. “Then do not force yourself. Rest; I will blow out all the candles and you will slumber and once you feel hungry then I will make sure to bring you all the best things to help you recover but it would worry me all the more if you had to suffer what happens when you force yourself to eat when your mind is such pain.” Though he'd be ready to hold your hair back and gently rub your back, wipe away your tears and give you water to clear the taste from your mouth. Still he never wished that suffering on you, any of this.

“Erik....” You clung tighter and he kissed you again. How strange it felt to be the one to give the gentle kisses, the love, the care; normally you were the one to comfort him and he had been so prepared to cry and beg your forgiveness before but now he knew what was really going on and all he wanted was to hold you and take all your pain away.

He took off his cape to keep you covered but found it hard to get you to let go of him. Normally he would have been delighted by this, he was before, but in light of what was going on.... “Songbird, sweet love, I need to get up.”

“Please don't leave me, it hurts so much.” You sounded like you were on the verge of tears again and how he hated it, loathed your pain.

It was his turn to whimper, because he was nothing if not weak to you and your pleas, but he had to be strong to some degree and he kissed away your tears. “My beloved songbird, I promise I will return as quick as I can, but I need to darken the room for you, all for you I promise. That way you needn't hide under my cape while you rest.”

Another whine from you but he did manage to break free enough to get up. You curled into a ball, a sad weak ball, and he was quick to move, snuffing out each candle, plunging the room into utter darkness. But he was used to darkness, he had lived in it for years, and to him you were like a beacon in the night anyway; he would always find his way back to your side. He settled into bed beside you again and pulled you close, stroking your hair as you clung once more to him. In the darkness all that could be heard was breathing, yours slightly labored as your body had a hard time adjusting to the pain; he started to hum, softly, careful of all sharp notes, careful of being too loud; it was even and gentle, a lullaby he made up on the fly. But slowly, surely you started to slip off into something resembling sleep and he knew this by the way your grip loosened, your breathing evened, you relaxed from tension you never even knew you'd been holding from the pain.

All the while the phantom held you, humming his slow warm melody, and wishing for all the world he could do more to make you, his beloved songbird, never feel such pain now or ever again.