new and improved oc oneshots

eternity / ephemerality (angst)

gods and monsters au w/ nicolas/vincent. descriptive(?) gore tw.

"Nicolas," Vincent's voice rang in his ears. Suddenly that softspoken boy was unbearable, wrapping Nicolas in his intangible dreams and hopes. He felt the affection and care for his little brother suffocate him, those pretty green eyes blinded him. The tender hand he reached out raked his skin, "Come with me, Nicolas."

"Don't do this to me," Nicolas trembled, "stop- just stop it, you know this won't work. Our curse-"

"We'll be free!" the naive boy cried. His wings had extended through agonizing movements. "Please, Nicolas, I'm so, so scared. It hurts."

Nicolas could see the chains dig into his poor brother's white wings, staining his soft feathers. His muscles were exposed by the rubbing of the cursed chains and Vincent's desperate tearing at the chains, his blood making the patches of exposed muscle shimmer. Vincent's fingers were worn down, his nails broken and torn off after fruitless attempts of taking off his restraints... and after those countless hours of squirming on the floor in pools of his own blood and vomit, all Nicolas could do was watch. Maybe, just maybe, Nicolas owed his brother this one moment.

Vincent had thrown up his last meal, but he remained standing firm, "Don't you want your own gifts back? Your wings that you were once proud of?"

The prompt of his wings had pained Nicolas. For years, he dealt with the phantom pains that had followed the incident when his wings had been "ripped" off his back. He had been completely paralyzed, or maybe just catatonic, for two whole weeks. Maybe he was in a coma... who knows.

The curse had been set upon the brothers at young ages, but only when they had hit puberty did it worsen. Once adulthood started to come upon them, Vincent lost control of the chains and they started to intertwine around his two wings to unbearable extents and Nicolas found himself awake with two large, gaping and bloody holes in his back. Nicolas had received mercy throughout the years; he had a rare power once, the ability to manipulate personalities and memories but it had gradually faded without much symptoms. While Vincent, oh the poor boy, he just went through life knowing that one day his beautiful wings would be crushed and broken, the chains would grow too tight one day. But not only did he live with that knowledge, he felt the progression and now it was reaching its peak.

All Nicolas wanted to do was hold his brother, kiss him and tell him everything would be alright. No one would be hurt, no one would die and life would continue on as usual. But he couldn't dare dream, and he certainly wouldn't think of things like that. It's pointless to desire things you didn't and can't have, for then what you did have that you didn't want would devour you.

"Vincent," Nicolas tried his best to sound brave, "some old man won't cure us."

"But what's wrong with having just a bit of hope?"

"After it fails everything will fall apart!" he didn't mean to yell, he never yelled at his brother. "It's useless and dangerous, can't you understand?!"

Vincent was taken aback, offended almost. There was an angry yet sorrowful flicker in his eyes, "Everything has already fallen apart." He paused and inched his way closer to his older brother. He threw his arms around Nicolas's neck and cried unnaturally into his shoulder. Vincent reeked of vomit and copper, but Nicolas accepted his embrace and kissed his sweaty forehead.

He moved the blond mess that Vincent used to take such good care of from his eyes and held him closer. Nicolas whispered into his ear, "I'll come with you."

"Thank you,"