[ooc: Went with this post since we were going a shippy route, which for me turns smutty route even if not intended a lot of the time lol let me know if you want anything changed.]
Peace was hard-fought and won, the Mikaelsons are gone from New Orleans and Marcel Gerard along with them. The factions are working together and at the end of the day, Vincent is settled in as the leader of the Covens, head witch in charge, the Regent as it is called.
It was not a job he wanted but it was a job he had to take, he had tried to push it onto others, to walk away and that turned into a right mess and still stands as one of the things he regrets.
One of the things he doesn't was asking Camille O'Connell on a date when all the dust had settled. She had been his rock through every step of that war that was waged on his home and a warrior unmeasured by any of the supernatural beings she went toe to toe with. And out the other side, she came, still bright and beautifully human.
Vincent has left his front door open, the scents of crawfish etouffee wafting through his house, an old family recipe of course and he intends to stick with traditional New Orleans fare all the way through a dessert of Bananas Foster. He is in the kitchen, checking on the dish, dressed sharply in a pressed pair of black slacks and a wine-colored dress shirt, obviously even for a date night in, he's still pulling out all the stops. He's got bourbon ready to roll and wine chilling if she'd prefer, Vincent is not a man to leave anything to chance after all.
For Cami; Human Cami AU, sorry for TLDR background establishing I am a prose slut...
Peace was hard-fought and won, the Mikaelsons are gone from New Orleans and Marcel Gerard along with them. The factions are working together and at the end of the day, Vincent is settled in as the leader of the Covens, head witch in charge, the Regent as it is called.
It was not a job he wanted but it was a job he had to take, he had tried to push it onto others, to walk away and that turned into a right mess and still stands as one of the things he regrets.
One of the things he doesn't was asking Camille O'Connell on a date when all the dust had settled. She had been his rock through every step of that war that was waged on his home and a warrior unmeasured by any of the supernatural beings she went toe to toe with. And out the other side, she came, still bright and beautifully human.
Vincent has left his front door open, the scents of crawfish etouffee wafting through his house, an old family recipe of course and he intends to stick with traditional New Orleans fare all the way through a dessert of Bananas Foster. He is in the kitchen, checking on the dish, dressed sharply in a pressed pair of black slacks and a wine-colored dress shirt, obviously even for a date night in, he's still pulling out all the stops. He's got bourbon ready to roll and wine chilling if she'd prefer, Vincent is not a man to leave anything to chance after all.