Dead Plate Oneshots The Wishing Well

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The night was cool and quiet as Vincent stood before the old well, the weight of his thoughts pressing down on him. He couldn’t believe he was here. He felt ridiculous, but desperation had a way of making fools of even the most rational people. He ran a hand through his neatly styled hair, his fingers trembling as they passed over the dark strands. He squeezed his eyes shut, the familiar weight of his insecurities settling in his chest.

Rody. He couldn’t stop thinking about him.

Vincent’s stomach twisted as he imagined Rody’s laughter, the way his green eyes sparkled when he teased someone, the way he made everything feel so easy, so warm. But those smiles weren’t for him. They never had been.

They were for Manon-his sister.

He had watched from the sidelines for months, pretending that everything was fine. Pretending that the sight of Rody holding Manon didn’t make him feel like he was shattering from the inside. Vincent was always the calm, composed one, the man with a successful restaurant and a life that seemed, on the surface, to be perfect. But underneath all that, he was a mess.

He was in love with his sister’s boyfriend, and it was destroying him.

Rody would never look at him the way he looked at her. He was everything Vincent wasn’t-loud, carefree, full of life. Vincent had always been cold, distant, reserved. He knew people thought of him as aloof, too focused on his career to let anyone in. And maybe they were right. Maybe he’d built too many walls around himself to let anyone love him.

But Rody… Rody made him feel alive in a way he hadn’t felt in years. Every time he came to visit, it was torture. And yet, Vincent couldn’t stop himself from wanting more. More stolen glances. More fleeting touches. More of what he could never have.

That’s why he was here, standing before this ancient, crumbling well in the middle of the woods, clutching a coin in his hand like a fool. The well was part of some local legend-a relic of the past, said to grant wishes to those who were desperate enough to ask. It was absurd, childish even. But Vincent had nothing left to lose.

He stared into the dark water at the bottom of the well, his grip on the coin tightening. He knew it was stupid. Wishes didn’t come true. Not for people like him.

But still, he closed his eyes and whispered, his voice barely audible in the stillness of the night.

“I wish I could have him.”

It felt wrong as soon as he said it, but he tossed the coin into the well anyway. The splash was faint, swallowed by the darkness. Vincent stood there for a long moment, waiting for something-anything. But the air remained still, cold and silent.

He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. Of course, nothing would happen. What had he expected? He turned on his heel and walked away, the well disappearing behind him as he made his way back through the woods. He couldn’t help but feel like he had crossed some line. But it didn’t matter. None of it mattered.

Rody wasn’t his.

***

When Vincent woke the next morning, he felt disoriented. The bed beneath him was unfamiliar, softer than the one he was used to. The air smelled different, and there was a warmth pressed against his side that made his heart skip a beat.

He blinked, his eyes adjusting to the soft light filtering through the curtains. And then he saw it-Rody, lying beside him, his arm draped over Vincent’s waist.

Vincent’s breath caught in his throat. His pulse quickened. He couldn’t move, couldn’t think. Rody was here. In bed. With him.

His mind raced, unable to process what he was seeing. This couldn’t be real. It had to be a dream. But as Rody shifted, his body warm and solid against Vincent’s, reality began to settle in. This wasn’t a dream.

Rody was *his*.

Vincent stared at him, barely able to breathe. Rody looked so peaceful, his auburn hair tousled, his lips slightly parted as he slept. It was everything Vincent had ever wanted but never allowed himself to imagine. He had dreamed of this moment in his darkest, most shameful hours-waking up with Rody beside him, holding him, loving him.

And now, it was real.

His chest tightened with a surge of emotion he couldn’t name. It felt like joy, but there was something darker underneath it, something that whispered that this wasn’t right. He pushed the thought aside. He didn’t care how it had happened. He didn’t care if it didn’t make sense. All that mattered was that Rody was with him. Finally, he wasn’t alone. Finally, someone loved him.

Vincent allowed himself to sink into the feeling, savoring the warmth of Rody’s body pressed against his. For the first time in his life, he felt whole. He didn’t have to pretend anymore. He didn’t have to hide.

He had Rody.

But then, the reality of the situation began to creep in. This wasn’t his bed. This wasn’t his apartment. It was too nice, too clean, too… Manon.

A cold knot formed in his stomach as he sat up, his heart pounding. He glanced around the room, and the truth hit him like a sledgehammer.

This wasn’t his life.

Manon was gone. And somehow, he had taken her place.

His hands trembled as he looked down at Rody, still asleep, blissfully unaware of the shift that had occurred. Vincent’s mind raced, trying to piece together what had happened. The wish. The well. It had worked. But not in the way he had expected.

He hadn’t asked for this.

A flicker of guilt wormed its way into his chest, but he pushed it down. He couldn’t think about that now. He couldn’t think about what this meant for Manon, for his niece. He didn’t want to know what kind of life they had been forced into now that he had taken this one.

All he knew was that he had Rody. And he wasn’t willing to let that go.

Vincent leaned down, brushing a strand of hair from Rody’s face. His fingers trembled, but his touch was gentle, almost reverent. He had never been this close to him before. Never been able to touch him like this.

Rody stirred, his eyes fluttering open. For a brief moment, Vincent felt a surge of panic, but it was quickly drowned out by something darker-satisfaction.

“Morning,” Rody murmured, his voice thick with sleep. He smiled, that easy, warm smile that had always made Vincent’s chest ache. But this time, it was for him.

Vincent’s heart pounded in his chest as he forced a smile, his voice steady despite the chaos raging inside him. “Morning.”

He didn’t know how long this would last. He didn’t know if the universe would right itself, if this was all some cruel joke. But for now, Rody was his.

And Vincent wasn’t going to let him go.

As the day wore on, the realization of what he had done began to settle deeper into Vincent’s mind, gnawing at the edges of his fleeting happiness. He had wished for Rody, and now, somehow, the wish had been granted-but at what cost?

Vincent spent the morning clinging to Rody’s affection, pretending this was the life he deserved, that this wasn’t built on something dark and twisted. Rody didn’t seem to notice anything wrong. He made breakfast, joked about their plans for the day, kissed Vincent on the cheek as though it were routine. It was the life Vincent had always imagined in his loneliest moments. The quiet intimacy of a relationship where he didn’t have to be the cold, distant chef-where he could be just Vincent, a man who was loved.

But as Rody sat across from him at the breakfast table, laughing about something inconsequential, Vincent found it harder to ignore the cracks in his illusion. His mind drifted to Manon, to his niece. Where were they? What were they doing now? Were they suffering because of him?

He clenched his fists under the table, forcing a smile as Rody talked. He didn’t want to think about them. He didn’t want to feel the weight of guilt pressing down on his chest. But it was there, lurking beneath the surface, waiting to drag him under.

Vincent excused himself after breakfast, retreating to the bathroom to gather his thoughts. He stared at his reflection in the mirror, his pale face looking gaunter than usual. He ran a hand through his hair, gripping it tight as he tried to make sense of what had happened.

He had Rody. He should be happy. This was what he had wanted-wasn’t it?

But the life he had stolen hung over him like a dark cloud. He had always been a private person, but now the walls he had built around himself felt like a prison. His mind raced with conflicting emotions-joy, guilt, fear. He had wished for Rody, but he hadn’t wished for *this*.

The door creaked open, and Rody peeked inside. “You okay in there? You’ve been quiet.”

Vincent quickly straightened up, masking his internal struggle. He forced a smile. “Yeah, just… thinking.”

Rody stepped into the bathroom, his presence filling the space, and Vincent felt his chest tighten. He wanted to reach out, to pull Rody into his arms and never let him go. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that this was wrong-that he didn’t deserve this.

Rody tilted his head, looking at Vincent with those piercing green eyes. “You sure? You seem a little off.”

Vincent swallowed hard. He was never good at opening up, never good at letting people in. But Rody… Rody deserved honesty. Even if Vincent couldn’t tell him the truth about the wish, about what had happened.

“I just… I’m worried,” Vincent said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “About us.”

Rody’s expression softened, and he stepped closer, wrapping his arms around Vincent’s waist. “Hey, don’t be. We’re good. We’re more than good.”

Vincent felt his heart break a little at those words. Rody believed they were good. He believed this was real. But how could anything be good when it was built on a lie?

“I don’t want to lose you,” Vincent admitted, his voice strained. It was the closest he could get to the truth.

Rody pressed a kiss to his temple, his touch gentle. “You won’t. I’m not going anywhere.”

Vincent closed his eyes, leaning into the warmth of Rody’s embrace. For a moment, he allowed himself to believe it-that Rody wouldn’t leave him, that he wasn’t living someone else’s life. He buried his face in Rody’s shoulder, inhaling the familiar scent of him, the scent that had haunted his dreams for so long.

But even as he held onto Rody, the darkness inside him grew. He couldn’t ignore what he had done forever.

***

Later that evening, Vincent found himself unable to sleep. Rody had drifted off beside him, but Vincent’s mind was racing, too full of thoughts to rest. He slipped out of bed, careful not to wake Rody, and padded quietly into the living room.

The apartment felt foreign to him, despite having spent the day there. It was too warm, too cozy. Too much like *Manon’s* space. Vincent had never been good at creating a home for himself. His old apartment had been sparse, almost clinical-just a place to sleep between long hours at the restaurant. But this place… it was full of life. Full of Rody.

As Vincent stood in the middle of the room, his thoughts spiraled. He thought of the well, the wish he had made in a moment of desperation. He had wanted Rody, had wanted to be loved. And now he had it. But at what cost?

The guilt weighed heavier on him now, pressing down like a physical force. He had stolen this life. Stolen Manon’s happiness, her family. And for what? So he could have a fleeting taste of something he was never meant to have?

Vincent’s chest ached as he thought of Manon and his niece, picturing them in the run-down apartment he had left behind. Were they struggling? Suffering because of his selfishness?

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to push the thoughts away. He didn’t want to think about them. He wanted to stay here, with Rody, in this perfect life he had stolen. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t escape the crushing weight of his actions.

He had never been one to believe in karma, but now he couldn’t help but feel like the universe was playing a cruel joke on him. He had wished for Rody, and now he had him-but it wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real.

The guilt twisted deeper, making his breath come in shallow, ragged gasps. He wasn’t the kind of person who deserved love. He wasn’t the kind of person who deserved *Rody*.

Vincent sank down onto the couch, burying his face in his hands. The silence of the apartment was suffocating, pressing in on him from all sides. He had everything he had ever wanted, but it felt like he was losing himself in the process.

A soft sound broke the silence, and Vincent looked up to see Rody standing in the doorway, his hair messy from sleep, his eyes bleary. “Vincent?” he asked, his voice thick with concern. “What are you doing out here?”

Vincent didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t tell Rody the truth, couldn’t explain the storm of emotions raging inside him. So he just shook his head, forcing a weak smile. “I couldn’t sleep.”

Rody walked over to him, sitting down beside him on the couch. He placed a hand on Vincent’s shoulder, his touch grounding him in a way that nothing else could. “You’re not okay,” Rody said softly. “I can tell.”

Vincent wanted to break, wanted to spill everything, to confess the truth. But he couldn’t. If he told Rody, he would lose him. And Vincent wasn’t ready for that. Not yet.

“I just…” Vincent’s voice cracked. “I don’t deserve this.”

Rody frowned, confusion flickering across his face. “What are you talking about? Of course, you do.”

Vincent shook his head, his chest tightening. He couldn’t say it. He couldn’t admit that this life, this love, wasn’t his to keep. So instead, he let out a broken laugh, his voice trembling with emotion. “You have no idea.”

Rody didn’t say anything for a long moment. He just sat there, his hand still resting on Vincent’s shoulder, offering silent comfort. And for the first time in a long time, Vincent allowed himself to lean into that comfort, even if it was fleeting.

Even if it wasn’t really his.

Because deep down, Vincent knew the truth-this wasn’t his life. And sooner or later, he would have to face the consequences of his wish.

But for now, he would hold onto Rody for as long as he could.

The days stretched on in a haze of warmth and affection, but the unease inside Vincent only grew. Every moment spent with Rody, every gentle touch, every kiss, was tinged with a bitterness he couldn’t ignore. He wanted this life, wanted it more than anything he had ever desired before. But it wasn’t his to keep.

Eventually, the weight of his guilt became unbearable.

One afternoon, while Rody was out running errands, Vincent made his way to the crumbling neighborhood where his old apartment had been. He had resisted this for as long as he could, afraid of what he might find. But he had to know.

The buildings loomed around him, their walls worn and graffiti-stained, just as he remembered. He felt a sharp pang of familiarity as he approached his former home-a dingy, run-down place that had never felt like a real home. Now, it was someone else’s prison.

When he reached the building, he hesitated. His hands trembled, his throat tight. But he couldn’t walk away, not now. He needed to see them. To face the reality of what he had done.

He knocked on the door, and it swung open after a moment. Standing there was his sister, Manon.

Vincent’s heart sank at the sight of her. She looked pale, exhausted. Her hair was tied back messily, her eyes hollowed by sleepless nights. She wasn’t the vibrant woman she had been before. She looked like someone weighed down by the world-a world that used to be *his*.

“Vincent?” Manon’s voice cracked in disbelief. “What… what are you doing here?”

He swallowed hard, trying to keep his emotions in check. “I just… I wanted to check on you.”

Manon’s eyes narrowed, her confusion evident. “Check on me? Why? I haven’t heard from you in days.”

Vincent couldn’t tell her the truth, but seeing her standing there, her face a mirror of the suffering he had once endured, made it harder to lie.

Behind her, a small voice called out. Vincent’s niece appeared, clutching a tattered stuffed toy, her eyes wide and sad. She looked just as exhausted as her mother. The image burned into Vincent’s mind-this was the cost of his wish.

Manon turned to her daughter and gave her a tired smile before looking back at Vincent. “It’s been hard,” she admitted, her voice soft but raw. “We’re getting by, but… it’s not easy. I don’t know how things ended up like this. I wish would’ve worked harder back in college”

She didn’t know. How could she?

Vincent felt the world closing in around him. His chest ached, his hands trembling by his sides. This was his fault. He had wanted Rody so badly, he had been willing to sacrifice his sister’s happiness-her stability, her peace. All for his selfish desires.

Manon sighed. “Anyway, it’s nice of you to visit. I just wish things were… better.”

Vincent opened his mouth to say something, anything, but no words came. His mind screamed at him to fix this, to undo the damage he had caused. He couldn’t live like this, knowing what he had stolen from them.

“Manon, I…” he started, but his voice broke. He couldn’t tell her. Not yet.

She gave him a weak smile. “It’s okay, Vincent. You don’t have to say anything. Just… it’s good to see you.”

Vincent’s guilt twisted deeper, and he couldn’t stay any longer. He left quickly, not trusting himself to stay calm under her worried gaze.

As he walked away from the apartment, every step felt like he was dragging himself through a thick, suffocating fog. The city blurred around him, and all he could think of was Rody, the life they’d shared these past few days. How badly he wanted to stay in that life.

But this… This was wrong. This wasn’t real.

His feet carried him back to the wishing well. The place where it had all started. The place where his desperate, selfish wish had been granted.

The well sat in the middle of a small, forgotten park, overgrown with weeds and ivy. It looked ancient, crumbling, like something out of a fairytale. He had thrown a coin into its depths without thinking much of it, back when it seemed like nothing more than a childish fantasy.

But now he knew better.

Vincent stood at the edge of the well, staring into the dark water below. His mind raced, his heart torn between his desire for Rody and the weight of what he had done to Manon and his niece. He had what he wanted-but at too high a cost.

He closed his eyes, his breath shaky. The well had given him Rody, had given him the love he had craved for so long. But he couldn’t live like this, knowing what he had taken from his sister, from his own blood.

With trembling hands, Vincent reached into his pocket, pulling out another coin. It felt cold in his palm, a small, simple thing, but it held the weight of his decision.

Tears welled in his eyes as he stared at the coin, his mind swirling with doubt, fear, and heartache. He didn’t want to let go of Rody. Didn’t want to lose the happiness he had found. But he knew that this happiness wasn’t real-it wasn’t his to keep.

He took a deep breath, clutching the coin tightly. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I’m so sorry.”

And with that, he tossed the coin into the well.

The sound of it hitting the water echoed in the stillness, and Vincent stood there, frozen, waiting for something to happen. Waiting for the world to shift back to the way it had been.

For a moment, nothing happened. The park was silent, the wind still, the world holding its breath.

Then, slowly, a deep sense of loss washed over Vincent. He felt it like a punch to the gut, as though the connection between him and Rody had been severed. He felt empty, hollow, as if something precious had been ripped away from him.

He closed his eyes, tears slipping down his cheeks.

When he finally opened them, he was standing outside his old apartment once more. The dingy building loomed over him, just as run-down as it had been before. The weight of his old life crashed down on him, heavier than he had ever felt it.

Vincent looked down at himself. He was wearing the same worn clothes he had always worn, the fabric thin and frayed. His heart ached, the pain almost unbearable.

It was over.

The life he had stolen was gone, just as quickly as it had come.

Vincent stood there for what felt like an eternity, his legs weak, his heart heavy. He had done the right thing. He had given Manon and his niece their life back. But it didn’t make the loss any easier to bear.

He turned away, heading back to his apartment, the familiar weight of loneliness settling over him once more.

***

Days passed, and Vincent fell back into his old routine. The run down apartment, his solitary life, the cold silence of his apartment. It was as though nothing had changed-but everything *had* changed.

He had tasted love, had held it in his hands, and now it was gone. He would never have Rody, not in the way he had wanted. The knowledge of that gnawed at him, even in the quietest moments.

One evening, as he was closing the restaurant, Vincent heard a knock on the door. He froze, his heart racing in his chest. It was late, too late for customers.

When he opened the door, his breath caught in his throat.

Rody stood there, looking as he always had, his messy auburn hair and those green eyes that had haunted Vincent’s dreams.

“Rody…” Vincent whispered, his voice barely audible.

Rody smiled, a warm, easy smile that sent a pang of longing through Vincent’s chest. “Hey. I just… I wanted to see you.”

Vincent’s heart raced, but he forced himself to remain calm. “Why?”

Rody’s smile faltered slightly, but his gaze never wavered. “I don’t know… I just felt like I had to.”

Vincent swallowed hard, trying to keep his emotions in check. He didn’t know if the well had left any trace of their time together, if Rody had any sense of what had happened. But here he was, standing in front of Vincent, like fate had given them one last chance.

“Come in,” Vincent said quietly, stepping aside to let Rody enter.

And as Rody walked into the dimly lit apartment, Vincent couldn’t help but wonder if maybe-just maybe-there was still hope for them after all.

Vincent blinked, clearing his thoughts as he stepped aside to let Rody into his apartment. The dim light flickered, casting uneven shadows on the peeling wallpaper and the clutter that littered the small space. It was a stark contrast to the warmth and comfort Vincent had briefly known in Rody’s arms just days before. Now, the familiar chill of isolation crept back into the corners of the room, clashing with the presence of the man who stood there, making everything feel… wrong.

Rody looked around the apartment, his expression unreadable. He didn’t belong in a place like this-he deserved more than this suffocating misery Vincent had grown accustomed to. The apartment was a reflection of Vincent’s loneliness, his self-imposed exile from happiness, and having Rody here felt like mixing two incompatible worlds.

Vincent cleared his throat, trying to shake off the unease. “Why did you come here, Rody?” His voice was low, careful, but a tremor of vulnerability broke through. He didn’t want to sound desperate, but his heart was caught in his throat.

Rody’s green eyes flickered toward him, and he smiled-a small, tired smile that tugged at the deepest parts of Vincent. “I don’t know,” Rody said, shrugging. “I just… I felt like I had to see you. It’s weird, I’ve been having these strange dreams about you. About us, actually.” His voice trailed off, almost embarrassed, but there was sincerity in his tone.

Vincent’s pulse quickened. Did Rody remember? Could he feel the ghost of the life they had shared, even if it was erased from reality? The wish had taken everything away-everything except Vincent’s memories of those precious days. He knew it was selfish to even hope, but what if some fragment of that time lingered within Rody?

“What kind of dreams?” Vincent asked carefully, taking a step closer.

Rody rubbed his neck, his brow furrowed as if he was trying to piece something together. “It’s hard to explain. They’re vivid, like memories, but… they don’t feel real. It’s like we were-” He hesitated, glancing around the cramped apartment, then back at Vincent. “-like we were together. You know, *together*. But I don’t think it ever happened. Did it?”

Vincent’s chest tightened painfully. Rody was remembering something, but not enough. Just fragments. It was cruel-so cruel. For a moment, Vincent had what he wanted, and now Rody was standing here, asking questions that Vincent couldn’t answer truthfully.

“It didn’t,” Vincent whispered, the words tasting like ash. “Not the way you think.”

Rody frowned, stepping closer. “Then why does it feel so real? I can’t stop thinking about it, Vincent. I can’t stop thinking about *you*.” There was an edge of confusion, but beneath it, there was something else. Something raw and unspoken that neither of them had been brave enough to confront before.

Vincent’s heart twisted painfully in his chest. He wanted nothing more than to reach out, to pull Rody close and pretend that everything could be the way it was in that stolen reality. But he couldn’t. Not without tearing apart what was left of the fragile world he had restored for his sister and her daughter.

He swallowed hard, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “You shouldn’t be here,” Vincent said, his voice strained. “I’m not someone you should get close to.”

Rody’s expression hardened, a flash of frustration crossing his features. “Why do you always do this, Vincent? You push people away, but I can tell-there’s something you’re not saying. You act like you don’t care, but I know you do. Why won’t you let anyone in?”

Vincent’s resolve crumbled, the weight of everything crashing down on him. He couldn’t bear it any longer. He had already lost Rody once, and now, here he was, standing in front of him, wanting answers that Vincent couldn’t give. Not without revealing the horrible truth of the wish and the consequences that came with it.

“Because I’m selfish,” Vincent said, his voice trembling with emotion. “Because I wanted you, Rody. I wanted you so badly that I made a wish to have you, and I took everything from the people I love just to get what I wanted. And now I have to live with that.” His words spilled out in a broken rush, his gaze dropping to the floor.

Rody stared at him, stunned into silence. For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The air between them was thick with tension, with the weight of everything that had been left unsaid for so long.

Finally, Rody stepped forward, his voice low and filled with something Vincent couldn’t quite place. “What are you saying?”

Vincent shook his head, his breath shallow. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that you’re here, and I can’t… I can’t do this. You deserve more than this. More than *me*.”

But Rody didn’t move away. Instead, he reached out, gently grabbing Vincent’s wrist, pulling him close. “Vincent,” Rody whispered, his voice softer now. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but if you think for one second that I don’t care about you, you’re wrong.”

Vincent’s breath hitched, and he felt his resolve slip away entirely. He had spent so long telling himself that he wasn’t worthy of love, that he was destined to live in the shadows, alone and unwanted. But now, standing here, with Rody looking at him like this-with that same warmth and sincerity he had seen in those fleeting days-they were here, in reality, together.

He couldn’t resist any longer.

“I’ve loved you for so long,” Vincent whispered, the confession slipping from his lips before he could stop it. “But I can’t have you, Rody. Not like this.”

Rody’s expression softened, and he stepped even closer, until their faces were only inches apart. “Then let me decide,” he said, his voice barely audible. “Stop pushing me away. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

For a moment, Vincent forgot everything-the wish, the consequences, the guilt that gnawed at his heart. All that mattered was the feeling of Rody’s hand on his skin, the warmth of his breath as they stood so close.

And then, before Vincent could stop himself, he leaned in, closing the distance between them.

Their lips met in a kiss that was soft but filled with a desperation that had been building for too long. Vincent felt the world tilt, as if everything had finally fallen into place. The guilt, the darkness, all of it melted away in that moment.

Rody didn’t pull away. He kissed back, his hand sliding up to cup Vincent’s face, pulling him closer still. For the first time in what felt like forever, Vincent allowed himself to believe that maybe, just maybe, he could have this.

But deep down, he knew it couldn’t last. The wish had torn apart the lives of those he loved, and no matter how much he longed for this moment, the reality of what he had done would always be there, lurking in the shadows.

When they finally broke apart, Rody rested his forehead against Vincent’s, his breath ragged. “You don’t have to do this alone, Vincent. Whatever you’re going through… we can figure it out together.”

Vincent closed his eyes, a tear slipping down his cheek. He wanted to believe that. He wanted to believe that they could find a way through this.

But as he held Rody close, he knew the truth-he would always be haunted by the wish he had made, by the life he had stolen and the happiness he had taken for himself.

And no matter how much he loved Rody, he could never truly escape the consequences of that dark, desperate wish.

A/N
Since the ending is a bit confusing I’ll explain a bit. So basically wishes granted by the well can’t be fully undone. Vincent’s wish to have Rody wasn’t undone. Manon has her life back but Rody is still in love with Vincent. In the end Vincent wasn’t able to fully give Manon her life back. Now Rody is in love with Vincent but Manon and Vincent’s niece are left without Rody.

Also a small update on the discord bots. If you put them in a channel without Manon they will be very flirty with each other. If you want them to be flirty with Manon present just tell them to be flirty or just tell them they’re a couple.

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Chapter 99