Because I woke up with dad!Vincent brain rot—
Tw: death
Vincent towered over this victim and tilted his head. With a quick motion, he laid the knives down in the man’s chest and twisted until he felt the man’s last breath. Vincent stepped back and examined his work, a cruel smile forming. How he loved the kill and the hunt, craving it as if it was water and air.
He glanced over his shoulder at the clock on the wall and back at the body. In twenty minutes, his child will be awake and looking for him after their nap, and he promised to take y/n for a walk to feed the ducks. He’ll take care of his mess later. For now, he’ll wash up and make his child breakfast and cut up bread to feed the ducks.
Besides, his child’s joy comes first than the killings and art. Vincent made up his mind as soon as y/n came to town with their old parents. They were just a baby, small and defenseless, when Vincent took them in. He loves them and provides them with all the love and support he could muster.
Coming up the steps, he washes his hands and puts on clean clothing before y/n ever wakes. He takes out the eggs and bacon and starts cooking. While the food cooks, he pours himself coffee in his “#1 Dad” mug.













