Wait a minute... if you said there's more of the Slasher Gambit fic in the wings... with Kurt and other X-Men... oh my GOURD ARE THEY ALL SLASHERS TOO?!
Bo watched carefully as the new group in town moved through the streets. They were calling out for someone, but wax doesn’t talk back… it never has talked back unless you listen carefully. Still, Bo watched from the shadows in his black suit and tie, his fingers fidgeting with his father’s sun ring. He was busy thinking who was dead, who was art, and who was food.
Then Bo saw her in knee-high jean shorts, bright yellow t-shirt with cute butterflies on it, and a ball cap over her hair. The breeze carried her scent, and it sent shivers down his spine; he found her.
He found his wife.
Reader POV:
As soon as you and your friends entered the House of Wax, a smile crossed formed. Not was the air conditioner running at high to beat the heat, but there was a stair case made out of wax. The art was beautiful and bright, and it was paused in the 70s style.
“Y/n, wait!” You turned your head at Liza. “Look! It’s you!” She and her boyfriend started snickering as she pointed at a pig’s head on the table. “They knew you were coming!”
You hugged yourself as you shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah, funny, Liza.” You move farther into the museum and looked at the waxed bookcase. “All of this is made with wax,” you whispered to yourself.
“Bet you wished it was made outta chocolate!” Marty, Liza’s boyfriend, laughed, his friends joining you.
You bit back your tongue and kept looking at the art and pieces. Under you, the floor creaked and cracked.
“Hear that?” One of his friends whispered, making you pause. “Oh, it’s not an earthquake— it’s just y/n walking around!”
Guess we know what broke the camel’s back.
You spun on your heels and hurried towards the door to find that mechanic—
When you opened the door, you bumped into a strong chest and stumbled back. You looked up to see a man dressed all in black with smoothed back from grease, and you could smell smoke and oil over his clothing, but it had a old country boy feeling to it.
He was startled that you were running out as soon as he was about to lay out his words for you in sugar, that was until Liza shouted, “Look out for Rhino!” Then they laughed you out, pushing past him and took off to the car shop.
He looks between your run and at the group. As much as he wanted to rip out all of their throats with his teeth, he decided against it. Instead, he put his fingers in his mouth. His whistle echoed throughout the building, and it silenced the laughter. Their eyes looked at him as he loosened his tie and pulled down his cuffs. His ocean blue eyes shimmered as they faded to a burning fire red, eyes twitching in anger. How dare they say that about you…
His boots echoed as he walked into the room. He turns, closes the door, and locks it. “Vincent!” Bo snapped, jolting the group’s shoulders. He takes off his jacket and throws his tie. His red eyes burned brighter, a snarl leaving him as he watched the group coward away.
As soon as he saw Vincent, he felt his fangs showing. “Now, we don’ take kindly t’folks like yourself.” As he talked, his boots echoed as he walked towards the group. They looked like cowardly sheep by the way the moved closer together. Bo could’ve laughed at the way the bigger one was trying to protect Liza. “Be a shame, though. To waste good food lik’ yer-selfs.”
“You’re-you’re a—“
“Aw, sweetheart,” Bo hummed, his drawl heavy as he and his brother corner the group. “Vampires lik’ us are rare. So… consider you lucky to see us.”
Vincent placed a hand over the mouth of one three men and lifted his mask. Long, pearly fangs showed before his bit down hard on his neck. Bo smiled as their screams echoed.
Let the games begin.
***************
You were crying in the church next to the waxed statues in the pews. You found out that they were bodies real fast, but you didn’t seem to care much as your cries echoed around the church. You didn’t know how long were you crying in a ball behind the casket. You heard the whispers and murmurs on the tape reply twice already.
Then you hear the door open and boots clicking towards the casket. “Darlin’?” The man called. “Darlin’? Ya in here?” He didn’t wait for you to answer as he rounds the coffin and finds you curled into your lap crying. He frowns and sits next to you. “Now, why is a beautiful creature like you cryin’?”
“I’m-I’m not beautiful,” you cried. “I’m fat and ugly and-and—“
“An’ t’right size to show some lovin’,” he interrupted, saying those words like it’s a fact.
“You’re just saying that to-to be nice,” you sniffled. “You don’t mean it.”
He chuckles and leans back on his mother’s coffin. “Nah, honey. Can’t lie in front of my mama.” You glanced at him, and your eyes grow wide as you saw his hands and neck covered in dried blood. “Mama didn’t raise a liar,” he drawls. “I swear to ya, honeybee,” he glanced at you and flashed you a smile. His white canine s longer than normal… but you weren’t afraid. “I think ya t’prettiest thin’ I’ve ever seen. Shit, ya put ol’ Ms. Ambrose to shame.”
You laughed at his comment and shook your head. “Bet you charm all the ladies.”
“Yeah, I do,” he answers, “but I reckon I found myself an angel righ’ here.”
You look at him up and down. “Are you… flirting?”
“Am I doin’ good?” He leans forward and looks up at the altar. “I hope ‘m doin’ good.” He looks around and sighs softly. “I bet you saw the people…”
“The waxed graves?” You wiped your eyes. “Yeah. But it doesn’t scare me. I just… just needed to cry. Besides,” you lowered your eyes, “I’m a rhino.” Then you rolled your eyes. “And a southern vampire is going to kill me.”
Bo shook his head and moved to be kneeling in front of you. He took both your hands and said, “Darlin’, what do you want?”
“What—?”
“What do I need to give ya?” Bo asked again. “The stars? Moon? Shit, ‘ll give ya my dead-beating heart! Anythin’ just to see ya smile.”
“How about your name?” You asked, feeling how sticky his hands were from blood.
“Bo,” he said, bringing up your hand and kissed it. “Bo Sinclair.”
“Y/n,” you said, smiling. “I’m y/n.” Then your smile fell. “You going to kill me now?”
He shakes his head. “Be a shame if I did.” He stands and offered you help. “Wanna take you home, sugar. Wanna show you off to every person an’ my brothers. You’re just so damn cute an’ beautiful.”
You looked at him and the blood on his chin. “Promise?”
“Cross my heart,” he whispered. You didn’t hesitate as you took his hand. “I’ll treat you so right everyday.”
“Everyday?”
Your hopeful eyes, your voice… Bo is falling apart for you so fast. “I swear to ya, y/n. Now, come on— Vince’s wanna t’meet ya.”
How do you feel about writing a soulmate AU for the Sinclair brothers 🤔
Also, as a side note could you share a bit about how Bo learned French? You mentioned it previously on the blog.
-Snake
I love Soulmate AU ideas/prompts! I try to use different ideas when it comes to the Sinclair brothers.
For Bo, I have two ideas: matching scars on the wrist and love at first sight. As mentioned in this story, Bo felt a ping in his chest and heard it in his head, how ever, he tried to kill his soulmate because of his mother saying that no one would love him.
I also feel like the scars is an easy one to use for him as well because his s/o and him have matching one, so it makes it easier for him to find his lover. Like, imagine him seeing his s/o with those scars on their wrist and he falls apart, showing his wrists to them. He would apologize over and over about their wrists being hurt, kissing them every morning and night, and every second he has.
For Vincent, I have this idea that I think is cute: at a certain age, his soulmate hears his thoughts while he hears theirs. They have conversations even if they are on the other side of the map! The day they meet, his s/o is whispering goodbye to their s/o through thought, and Vincent freezes. He'll fall to his knees and answer their thoughts, saying, 'I'm so sorry.' and he starts crying. Over time, his s/o learns about Vincent being unable to talk, so they use thought to communicate.
Lester has two ideas: first kiss turns into the Hanahaki Disease and matching birthmarks. I already written about the Hanahaki Disease, so read here.
For the birthmarks, I imagine he has a paw print style birthmark on his right shoulder while his s/o has a funky looking mark on their left shoulder. When they meet and see each other's marks, Lester's birthmark will fade away on their body while his s/o's mark fades as well.
Now, for the French speaking Bo. I feel like when he was in high school he had to learn a different language and he had two options: French or Latin. He went with French because it felt easier to learn, and Louisiana has rich history of being part of France and the life in New Orleans; it just felt right. He was terrible in English and science, but he was an all-star in math, machining, and French. Even after high school, he kept studying French until it came second nature to him. Randomly, when he's babbling to his brothers, he'll slip from English into French. When he's stressed out, he'll smoke a cigarette and speak in French to Vincent. The kicker? Lester and Vincent have no idea what Bo's saying but they nod and agree with him as if they know what the hell is happening.
“You can spend the night here with me if you want,” you offered. “I know the motel is booked because of the college game and such.”
Rusty raised his brow. “Are you sure, darlin’? I don’t wanna intrude.” As much as he like you offer to say, he still had to ask. He’s a gentleman after all, and his mother raised him better.
You smiled at the young driver. “Not at all! Besides,” you nodded up at the dark clouds behind yourself then back at his rig, which was being towed to the mechanic shop, “I don’t think the shop lets trucker spend the night in their waiting room.”
Rusty acted like he was thinking it over even though his mind was made up. He had to have you. It’s not a need; it’s a must. However, his thoughts changed from just a good fuck to wanting you to come with him on journeys and drives. Part of him wanted to see you graduate college and settle down with you. That sounded…
It sounded perfect.
“Okay, little lady,” he said. “Lead the way home.”
HI!! I saw u write for reg and I’ve never been more excited! An h write about reg comforting you as your having a breakdown?? It has been ROUGH lately
- :p
Hewo, :p . I’m sorry y’all been having a rough one and that this is a short one. I hope this makes you happy :3
Right Here
Reggie Morgan x fem!reader
not proofread
Reg had the radio playing softly as he came towards your house. His pick-up bounced side to side as he wore a smile. Just coming up the drive to your house after a long day doing deliveries (and grinding a hitchhiker with James) made his arms ache for you. He just wanted to treat you right: dinner, slow dance, cuddles, kisses, spending the night, and breakfast together. Reggie just wants to be with his special gal, the tightest girl ever to cross him at the flower shop, your shop.
You were the brightest and smartest smile he ever laid eyes on.
He parked his truck, fixed his hat, and checked again to see if there was blood on his face. He’ll never tell you what he and his brother have to do to make their fertilizer, and he'll never tell you how his brother has him do the job. Granted, it's Reggie's idea, but he'll never let you know that. You're once of the nicest and finest ladies he's ever had the chance to love, to meet, to have. He thought he'll never have the chance to have someone to love him, but you? You just make his bloody and scared world feel safer.
When he came up on the veranda, he didn't see you near your flower bed like normal. It's actually a nice day; the radioman, Burny, says it's good enough to have a walk at night without sweating. Still, Reggie didn't like how you didn't great him when you entered your home, knocking on the screen floor before entering.
"Sweetheart?" He called as he enters. He takes off his hat and glances around. No one in the living room or kitchen. Were you in the bathroom? Still, he didn't like how your coffee pot was till full in the afternoon; you drink tea around this time. To come to think of it, it looks like the kitchen hasn't been touched since he's been here yesterday for afternoon tea. "Koala? Ya here?"
From the back of your home, he heard footsteps from your room, and he straightened himself a bit when you walked out. He offered a smile but it faded when he saw how red your eyes were and how lifeless your limps were. To him, you looked like a husk of a person, of a human.
"Oh," you hummed tiredly. "G'day, Reg." You look like you could collapse at any moment.
He met you in the hall in time to catch you, passing out from exhaustion. Reggie held you close as he gently lowered into his arms, resting your body against his chest. He rubbed your back as he rocked back and forth, fear taking over, as he looked down. "What's wrong?"
When your empty eyes met his, he understood.
Sadly, he smiled at you. "Breakdown, eh? Well, lovely," he kisses your forehead. "I reckon I cans help ya."
"Yeah?" You asked, leaning against his shoulder.
He nods as he lands a kiss over your forhead. "Yep. I c'n make ya somethin' small ta eat and hav'ya cuddled in m'arms for t'night."
"You don't have to," you said, your voice drawn and dead. "I just finished the," you smiled sadly and looked down at your hands, "the mental breakdown show."
"Nah," he said. A gentle hand lifted your chin and you leaned into his hand. "Lemme help ya. Ya need someone here now." He struggled for words for a moment, but said, "Everyone struggles now and then, lovely. It's good ta let tat stuff out. My aunt told me tat once... and I don't think ya should battle tis alone, love. I'm here now. Let me help, please?"
As much as your brain wanted him to go, you knew somewhere in your heart that you needed help, that you needed love, that you needed Reggie here to pick up the pieces of you around your home.
"Ya always know what to say," you said, laughing sadly. He leaned down and kissed ya gently. "Thank you, Reg."
He helps you stand and guides you back to your room. He led your hand and laid your down. He let go and got our room ready: putting up blankets over the windows to block out the light, your favorite drink made and on the bedside, and picked out some movie you liked. He kicked his boots off at the front door again before joining you in bad.
"See?" He hummed, pulling you to his side to have your head over his heart. "Reckon we c'n hav' pizza n' ice cream later? I c'n hold ya all day, my lovely."
You couldn't help but look up at him as the movie played. "Hold me tight and never let go?"
"Oh, darling," he smiled brightly at you. "Ya never need ta ask. I promise ya." Reggie takes your hand and kisses the palm. "Rest, little koala," he hummed, his voice so light and smooth. "I'll be here ta whole time. Ya never need ta worry."
You closed your eyes as you let the aftermath take over, and sleep came so easy with someone you love and adore. And, as promised, Reggie never lets you go even when the movie finished. He laid there with you in his arms, rubbing your back, loving you with every moment. "Don't fight yer monsters alone, y'n," he whispers as you dream. "Let me protect ya next time?" He snuggles next to you and plants a long kiss on your forehead. "I love ya, koala."
But you'll never hear him say it, never know how much he'll fight for you and love you. For now, rest, y/n. The monsters you face will never hurt you because Reggie would grind them to bits first.
Please tell me I’m not the only one who was obsessed with the bloopers for house of wax. My sisters and I always sang the fanbelt song and I still do just randomly.
I sing the song at work when I’m bored. I love the bloopers!
