injury
AN: this was supposed to be Vincent x reader, but I guess you can read it as all brothers x reader. also i apologize if this isn't good, i'm currently trying to write a real fic, and it's kind of difficult. i'm praying to the writing-gods though.
Warnings: description of an injury, mention of needles and syringes
The front door flies open with an audible 'bang' as the long-haired artist carries you inside the residence. Behind him trail his brothers, in your peripheral you see Bo’s tense jaw as he tucks his gun away.
Vincent’s boots loudly trudge through the living room. Shortly after he sets you down on the billiard table. Thinking he’s going to leave, you weakly extend a hand, trying to find stability, but he stays. One arm keeps tightly securing your torso, the other sweeps old newspaper off the dusty surface. His movements are fast, he’s hurrying, you think.
Soon, you're laying on your back on the green cloth, the frame of the table pressed painfully into the muscles of your neck. Then he leaves anyway. His heavy boots stomp down the hallway before you can protest. His brothers stay, though.
Bo looks tense, you notice as he appears in your vision and Lester’s forehead is wrinkled in worry.
“Sorry for bleeding all over the table-”, you cringe at your own, faint voice.
“Don’t worry about that now.”, Lester tries to give you a reassuring smile, but the crease in his forehead doesn’t fade and neither does the shake in his voice, “Vincent’ll patch you up.”
Speaking of the devil, his steps come closer again, faster this time. Then he’s next to you, carrying the first aid box from the bathroom. It’s all banged up ever since Bo punched it off the wall during one of his meltdowns. The memory makes you want to laugh, but even breathing hurts now.
Subconsciously, you can hear Bo’s belt buckle click open. You raise an eyebrow in confusion, but before you can attempt to ask anything, there’s the sensation of something leathery against your lips.
“Open up.”, Bo sounds sterner than you’d like, but you comply, biting down on the leather as hard as you can. You know what happens now.
A syringe appears in Vincent’s hand and suddenly cold fear fills your heart. The belt falls out of your lips as your mouth opens.
Memories flood your brain, pictures of helpless victims, twitching as Vincent injected his own little poison into their blood, rendering them helpless.
You don’t think he’s trying to poison you but the idea of a syringe in his hands is enough to make your breath shorten in panic. Meekly, you try to get away from its iron tip and raise your hand to push him away.
“Please, Vincent-”, even to yourself your voice sounds strained and near silent. “Without.”, you manage to croak out, finding his eye behind the waxen mask, pleading.
It takes a rough second of silent praying but, finally, he nods, and puts it to the side. In the meanwhile, Lester pushes the piece of leather back in between your teeth and Bo grabs your arms, pinning them to the table.
“This is gonna hurt, sweetheart, you know that.”, ‘is that warmth in Bo’s eyes?’, you think, “Try to keep still, I know you can do it.”
A weak nod is all you can muster up as a reply, questioning if Bo's faith in you is justified.
You feel Vincent’s hand pulling your leg towards him, and then there’s something cold touching your ankle. You nearly jerk back out of reflex, but his grip is strong.
Sharp blades cut the fabric away from your leg, inch for inch until he reaches the tear in your flesh, oozing crimson. You sense he’s trying to hurry without hurting you, and you wish you could tell him that the pain is already fading into a numb, hot throbbing.
In your confused, half-conscious state, you barely register the cap of a bottle opening before you feel it. Scorching hot liquid, burning into your flesh.
Tears dwell in your eyes as your muffled scream echoes through the room. Your head lifts off the edge of the billiard table, trying to get away, but then Lester’s beside you, gently pressing it back down.
“Already halfway done,”, he whispers, voice laced with shared agony, “You’re doing so well.”
Whimpering, you try to focus on the warmth of his hand on your forehead as Vincent dabs the disinfectant and already-crusted blood away. His other hand squeezes your thigh lovingly as if to comfort you.
His hands are gone for a quick moment, and you mentally prepare for the needle. This isn’t the first time Vincent has stitched you up, but this is the first really life-threatening wound you’ve acquired in all your time in Ambrose. You take a hazy mental note to buy disinfectant without alcohol if you survive this.
Vincent's hands return to your thighs. You bite down on the leather as the needle pierces your skin, pulling the thread through the hole. Grunts turn into weak sobs as he continues swiftly, leaving you with no time to process the pain flaring in your leg.
“Shh…”, Bo’s voice is surprisingly tender, “It’s over soon, darling, I promise.”
His thumb rubs circles into the inside of your arms, but the pain is far too intense for you to notice his soft touches.
It feels like an eternity until Vincent sets the needle down, and you nearly start sobbing all over again when he finally does. This time out of relief.
The ceiling moves as Bo lets go of your arms, and you suddenly feel unsupported, like you’re going to fall over any second. Someone takes the belt out of your mouth, it clatters as it hits the tiles somewhere behind you. A wet sensation hits your freshly stitched-up skin.
Vincent is more careful with the bandaging, testing its tightness before he ties the ends together, so it won’t bother you. You’re scared he'll leave, but fortunately, your concerns stay unverified.
Soft hands find your shoulders again as he’s done with his work, carefully raising your torso off the bloody table. Legs still supported on the edge of the furniture, he adjusts your head, leaning it against his chest, before he lifts you for good, trying to be as gentle as possible. Even in your current situation, his consideration for you warms your heart.
You attempt to catch a glimpse of the table before he walks away but all you pick up is a mess of red, blotched over the remains of your jeans as Lester puts Vincent’s utensils away.
Then the artist turns around and all you register anymore is his heartbeat next to your ear as he carries you away.
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Sitcom Sinclairs headcanons…
I’m coming down from an anxious day, so here is some content for Bo, Vincent and Lester in my little universe with an s/o with anxiety. Self projecting? Perhaps, we shall see.
Bo…
• His gut instinct is to laugh directly in your face at first, or tell you to “grow a pair”.
•But he’s in therapy now! The man is plus one green flag (because any man who goes to therapy has a green flag, in my mind).
•So now he stops himself before it comes out.
•He’s not great at the whole “soft, mushy, comforting” deal, but he’ll go easier on you if you’re having one of your days.
•If he finds you having an attack, thats an entirely different story. His therapist taught him some grounding techniques which he will gladly walk through with you.
•Once you’ve calmed down he’ll leave, only to return with ice cream or some home cooked Southern comfort food. Please be nice, he put his whole heart into those fried green tomatoes. That gumbo is made with his blood, sweat and tears.
•As you both eat, he’ll put one of your favorite movies on the working TV.
•One armed side hug the whole time. Tightens his grip if he feels you begin to shake or breathe a little heavier.
•Anxious s/o? Slap some affirmations on that human and give them food.
Vincent…
•Again, plus one green flag.
•While he might not always understand your specific cause of anxiety, he will try. He understands what anxiety is like.
•If you’re in the middle of an attack, he’ll ask (in his own special and unique way) if you’d like him to stay or to give you space.
•Also not the best at standard means of comfort.
•Will disappear before joining you, only to return with a cup of tea and a weighted blanket. Will request that you don’t ask how he obtained the blanket. Don’t worry about it. Also don’t worry about putting it on, he’s already wrapping it around you like a cocoon.
•Will listen as long as you need, will let you wait out the waves of nerves resting on his lap as he sketches or plays with your hair (only if you agree, but he knows firsthand how relaxing and comforting it can be to have your hair played with). Don’t look at his sketches, they’re definitely not you. Totally.
•If you don’t want to talk about it, he’ll try to find another way for you to get it out. He has suggestions, but if you have other ideas he’s all ears and ready to get whatever you need.
•Speaking of getting whatever you need.. Southern comfort food makes it’s not-so-surprising return! Made with love by the twins. He will watch you and make sure you eat until you are comfortably full.
•Overall, he’s comforting by just being there, in silent support. He might not speak much, but he will make sure you know that you are safe, that you are loved dearly, and that he is always there for you.
Lester…
•His s/o is having a rough day? Hold the phone, he’s on his way. Will undoubtedly enter and announce his presence with “have no fear, Lester is here!”
•To be frank, if you’re having anxiety he’s probably anxious for a split second just because you are.
•Will make sure you are as comfortable as humanly possible while he sets to getting your mind off of your anxiety.
•If you need to talk it out, he’s there in a minute. Don’t want to talk and just need comfort and a redirection of the mind? Bam, he’s there with it.
•I think Lester would have a small house, meaning a small kitchen, you can see and smell the food he’s cooking. Oh, whats this? Southern comfort food? Wow, what a surprise.. (he’s a good chef, but he’s still nervous you wont like it. Please reassure him).
•Will put on old cassettes to watch to help distract you.
•Bonus: Jonesy snuggles.
•He’ll tell you stories to help distract you and make you laugh, like funny anecdotes about his brothers (don’t tell them he told you).
•You don’t have to do anything for the rest of the day. Just kick back and relax, Lester has it all under control. He just wants you to feel comfortable and to rest so you can feel better, in whatever way that means for you.
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"Bo started the town and lied! It's so obvious he did it all!"
(If yall don't stop babygirling my man Vincent)
Bo and Vince are equally traumatized and equally fucked up in different ways.
Bo never received love or affection without the threat of what would happen if he wasn't good, any negativity was met with harsh punishment and he clearly was troubled at a young age with no help, called a monster as a tiny boy, has physical scars from it he has to see daily, still seems to hold his mother in good regards (Especially script Bo) but subconsciously takes his mommy issues and need for control out on bound women to both re-live his childhood trauma and to possibly get both love and revenge on his mother through women (No excuse obvi just pointing it out WHY I think he does it).
Vincent was encouraged to cover his face and wear a mask even at home, his deformed face was the main focus and his parent's did nothing to make him feel like he deserved normalcy (Mama said your talent would make up for what God took from you), watched his brother be abused and probably had Bo resenting him for it and he might resent Bo for being the problem child ruining their childhood, was groomed to follow in his mother's footsteps, has little to no communication to anyone but Bo (Maybe Lester) and is probably a perfectionist that needs control as well from the pressure of being the Golden Child to his Mother and was the one that waxed her corpse.
So idk WHY we all think Bo was the only one that could've started the town's wax corpse thing??? Yeah he is an arrogant blow hole that loves manipulating people but the entire movie he might as well be the ringleader that's just talking to the audience and suckering people in but Vincent is the one really doing most of the heavy lifting behind the scenes. Yes, that could be Bo manipulating him and making him do it all or it could be them as a team (I vote this one) and Bo is just obviously more inviting or it could be Vincent doing it all and Bo is just helping to reap the rewards of helpless women at his disposal and getting out pent up rage on people.
It could've been Bo looking for an opportunity to finally take out his sadistic rage
It could've been Vincent who did it in severe grief over his Mother aka the Handler that made him codependent on her and is just as twisted as his twin
IT COULD'VE BEEN TRUDY/THEIR MOTHER! Just because Bo lied to Carly; who says he's lying to Vince??? Seriously, Trudy was a shitty Mom and a bit nuts herself if you ask me strapping their fucking child down till he bleeds or making their kid a wax mask to cover their face even at home so who is to say in her final years she wasn't the one that did this??? (Not counting the script that heavily hints Bo killed both his parents after years of abuse but still didn't say WHO waxed the corpses first)
I accept all HC but it would not shock me if Bo convinced Vincent to do it after preserving Trudy...If Trudy did it and they really are trying to make their Mother proud...Or if Vincent in his grief waxed Trudy's body in memory of her but also waxed a person as revenge/spite and Bo being the guy he is went with it.
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