#Earnest Cullen

[bowlingshirtbellas]

Just started listening to the podcast and loving it. Something which confused me about Life and Death. Did Earnest Cullen take Carine's name when they got married? That was very progressive of them for the 1920s. Progressive Feminist Earnest confirmed?

omg you're right, he must have. icon status lol

[twilightishot]

Moodboard of Earnest Cullen

[holly-and-honeybees]

Carine Cullen and Earnest Adam Platt Cullen from my original "Twilight" fanfiction "Midnight"

[fitsofgloom]

The Dead-Pan Ghoul: Hedley Cullen as Deadly Earnest, host of "Deadly Earnest's Aweful Movies." This was a long-running late show in Austraila, airing from the late '50s to the late '70s. Like "Doctor Who," multiple actors would play Earnest in various territories, their portrayals diverging based on the styles of the performers, Cullen the character's fourth incarnation.

[theragamuffininitiative]

So your western wip, what's it about?

👀😊

My [still tragically unnamed] western tells the story of how, after the razing of his hometown and lynching of his father, a man called Lasater sets out to bring justice to those responsible. Joining him is a songwriting teenager named Sonny who had unluckily taken up with some outlaws and was close to sealing his fate with them until Lasater presented him with another way. Together they trek across the 1850s American Great Plains and down into the South on the trail of the murderous gang against the uncertain backdrop of the Bleeding Kansas period and preludes to the Civil War.

Lasater, taking the name of the town he left as his own to inform his quarry of the reason for their danger, is a deadly quick-shot but is also actually a peace-loving man who honed his skills to amuse rather than kill and would like nothing more than to put away his gun for good and return to his farm site once the demons of his past are brought to justice. Despite his ability, his goal is for the outlaws to be arrested and tried for their crimes, and actively avoids bloodshed. Sonny meanwhile is naive and boisterous and charming, and anxious to collect his share of any reward money from outlaw hunting so that he can fulfill his dream of traveling to France as a musician - but his own lawless history and fears might ultimately dissolve his friendship with Lasater.

They locate the hunted gang near a tiny southern town and must find a way to face the outlaws without bringing death and ruin down on the townspeople who befriend them - and without the villains cutting all their dreams of a brighter future abruptly short.

[seeingivy]

my neurons are tingling… they’re telling me “trust me. i can handle a dangerous man” with suguru 🤔

trust me, i can handle a dangerous man x suguru geto

**part of my tortured poets concert event

--

“so…you’re like a magician?” you ask. 

“a sorcerer. and it’s…it’s not as frivolous as someone who just does tricks, y/n.” suguru notes, his tone caustic. 

from the little divot on his forehead – the one that you can make out in the dim light pouring through the window – you can tell that suguru geto is frustrated. a quick irritation you’re able to recognize quickly at this point, which in his case, most of the time, stems from being misunderstood. 

suguru geto hates being misunderstood. and it’s the first sign, one of the few, that he makes before he retreats. the little markers, you liken them to reading the waves before you surf – having to be able to parse out the energy, the tension in the water – or in this case, the person, before you push forward. 

you reach forward, your hands warm on his shoulders as you trace small circles into the terse spots on his shoulder. you can’t help but lean your cheek against his back, tangling one of your fingers in his air to free his locks from the mess of his bed head bun. 

“a sorcerer. so, what exactly does that mean?” you murmur. 

suguru sighs, lifting the heels of his palms and rubbing them into his eye sockets. his eye bags are particularly deep for an unbecoming friday night, one where he’s actually cuddled into the blankets with you instead of being stuck at work, and you relish in the fact that, at the very least, he’s here. 

“can you do spells like harry potter?” you whisper. 

the silly comment earns you a breathless laugh from suguru, enough for him to seek out your touch and lean his temple against yours, before turning to offer a soft kiss to your cheek. 

“no.” 

“do you sparkle like edward cullen?” you ask. 

“no. not that type of magic. and it’s…not magic.” 

you lean back. 

“okay, i’ll bite. so what can you do?” 

“i eat curses.” 

“delicious.” you deadpan. 

“i’m being serious.” 

you shrug. you can tell that he’s being purposely vague, that whatever it is that he’s trying to explain frustrates him more than even having to articulate it, and decide against asking further, at least in earnest. 

“do they taste good? i mean…i’m assuming, no right? because you’re said they’re made up of all the bad feelings or whatever, so they must taste like…like that battery acid coffee shop we went to downtown!” 

suguru gives you a hum in response. 

“that’s actually not a bad analogy. they taste horrible. but after i eat them, i basically control them.” 

“right. you control them.” you note. 

suguru heaves a great sigh. 

“you must think i’m insane.” 

you shrug in response. 

“i mean. maybe a little bit. do you have any that i can see?” you ask. 

“the fact that you’re still entertaining an entire conversation after i’ve mentioned curses, monsters, and the like says more about you than it does about me, you know?” 

you smile, reaching forward to pinch the bridge of his nose. 

“just that i love you a little too much to entertain whatever you’re saying. even if you sound absolutely ridiculous.” 

suguru scoots away from you on the bed, leaning his head left and right with accompanying cricks, before stretching his arms out. and before you know it, there’s a pink stingray floating above the two of you, moving back and forth in motion with his fingers. 

you stand up, sticking your hand out to touch it, only to be met with a slimy cold feeling underneath your fingers. the mere sensation sends a shivering rush down your spine, before you turn back to see suguru with his eyes wide in shock, maybe even a little bit of admiration if that’s what it is, as you smile. 

“so you can see it.” suguru whispers. 

“was i not supposed to?” you mumble back. 

you turn back to see him shaking his head at you, before he beckons for you to come back, the curse hovering around in the air ceasing from the room. he wraps his arm around your waist, nestling his head into your shoulder, as you tangle your legs in between his. again. 

“some people can see them. but most people can’t.” 

you can’t help but laugh. 

“does that mean i’m all magical like you? does that make me special?” 

suguru frowns, pulling back, before reaching to cup the side of your face, rubbing a small circle into your cheek with his thumb. 

“well, quite frankly, you were already special. maybe a little more now, but…” 

“are you trying to flatter me?” you ask. 

suguru grins. 

“is it working?” 

“all signs point to yes.” 

you lean back, back onto the duvet that’s been messed up by the wiggling you were doing in your sleep, as you gesture for him to join you. 

“so why are you telling me? i’ve watched enough movies to know that your little magical world won’t be happy if i know. since i could go telling everyone your secret and everything.” 

“it’s just…dangerous. i want to make sure that you know how to take care of yourself if i’m not here…or if i can’t get to you in time. being a jujustu sorcerer isn’t exactly the most stable job in the world, you know?” 

you frown. 

“dangerous like…like you could die?” 

there’s an uncomfortable pain in suguru’s chest. 

“yes.” 

“well, are you good at being a jujustu sorcerer? is there someone who protects you?” 

“i’m decent. and my partner, he’s…he’s the strongest. so.” 

“okay, well then it’s fine.” you respond. 

suguru frowns. 

“it’s fine?” 

“well, i’m not going to stop you from being a jujutsu sorcerer.” 

“no.” 

“so then i’ll just keep faith in the fact that you’re good at what you do. and that your partner is the strongest and they can take care of you.” 

surguru swallows hard. 

“and what if you get hurt because of me?” 

you shake your head. 

“you won’t let any of the…bad feelings come get me, will you?” you joke. 

he doesn’t laugh. or find it funny even in the slightest. 

“you misunderstood. what if i hurt you?” he asks again. 

you roll your eyes. 

“trust me. i can handle a dangerous man.” 

suguru leans forward, pressing his forehead firm against yours. 

“i was being serious.” he whines. 

“so was i. you tend to have a tendency to live in your head. i have yet to be…be afraid of you, even despite your ghastly bed head, and you clearly are risking enough just by telling me.” 

suguru reaches forward, giving your cheek a slight squish. 

“i can tell you’re trying to safeguard me in every way you can. it’s also why your entire premise that i’ll be hurt by you in the end is idiotic.”  

“now i’m idiotic.” 

you reach forward and pinch his cheek right back. 

“just a bit.” you whisper.

--

[evesbookshop]

𝐈𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐘𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐚 𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐚 𝐡𝐜𝐬

(𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐧𝐨 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐦𝐲. 𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬𝐧’𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐟 𝐬𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐚𝐥𝐥)

𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬: 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐤 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭. 𝐕𝐚𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥

✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿

Yelena who knows how to flirt but only when it’s under the pretense of getting information . So when you’re hitting on her in a bar she has no clue how to actually take the advances.

Yelena who gets really flustered when you make it obvious that you’re interested and think she’s hot, but not hehe blushing flustered. Blue screen almost visibly confused flustered but her confused face sits so closely to one of a scowl that you think she’s not interested.

Yelena who cringes and bumps her head down against the bar counter when you apologize and walk away cause that’s not how that was supposed to go at all last she checked

Yelena who frequents the bar after that in hopes of bumping into you again and when she does she throws you what she hopes is a friendly smile. And this time is responsive and has some kind of hold over what her face does.

Yelena who gets your name and number that night and goes back to the tower to do a deep dive and get whatever she can find on you. She thinks it’ll help her feel like this is a mission and there for she’ll be more equipped but all she finds is your instagram , college records, and a few parking tickets that give her nothing to go off of

Yelena who has to do the second most mortifying thing she can think of and ask John Walker how to flirt with girls before your date that weekend. Because as far as she knows he’s the only person on the team who’s had a decently long healthy relationship. So she deals with the teasing and quips all for him to tell her to call you pretty and just be polite which is everything she planned on doing and completely unhelpful.

Yelena who shows up to your dinner date in a pair of corduroys and that same striped blouse she broke into kate’s house in. Who trips over herself internally when she sees how nice you look but externally gives a tight awkward smile and soft but genuine compliment. Opening doors and pulling out your chair when you sit.

Yelena who thank the lord loosens up during dinner after a glass of wine. Who is finally able to show off her dry humor and witt instead of staring at you like jasper cullen. She still stares but it’s softer , more contemplative , and only when she thinks you won’t notice.

Yelena who walks you home cause she watches movies and that’s what supposed to happen. Interlocking your fingers as your knuckles brush hers for the fourth time . And who gives you a tentative but earnest peck on the cheek when she drops you off.

Yelena who’s a dream to date. Who plans things once she starts to pick up on what you like to do an enjoy. Picnics , cat cafes, festivals in the park. Who is hard to gauge sometimes but if you ask her questions she answers honestly and if she isn’t ready she puts a pin in it. Who knows when to push and when to simply exist in your space on bad days.

Yelena who while inexperienced isn’t a saint. She’s aware that things are gonna get heated eventually. She’s just also a little too confident in her ability to gauge how things are gonna go and how well she’s gonna do once actually in the situation after a few nights of ‘research’.

Yelena who kisses you outside your apartment at the end of one of your dates two months into things and when things start getting heated is too excited to act right. Whose kisses are a little too toothy and sharp but who learns fast and takes corrections with no fuss.

Yelena who suddenly, as she’s pushing you against your couch, remembers that she really truly has no goddamn clue what the hell she’s doing. Who kinda regrets not getting around after escaping the red room cause now she feels like a fish out of water. Who resigns herself to the fact that she’s gonna have to actually admit to being new at things out loud before you just think she sucks.

Yelena who is a little mortified when you chuckle and say you figured but feels better when you tell her you don’t mind teaching her a thing or two. Who stays on top but lets you have the reigns as she straddles your lap and you kiss her like she’s something valuable not just useful.

Yelena who’s hips start to roll against your own before she can even realize it but doesn’t have it in her to be embarrassed when you hold her waist and help her set a steady rhythm. Who lets breathy moans she’s never let anyone but herself hear leave her lips and fill your mouth . Who shudders against your thigh when the pressure and friction catch just right against her clothes cunt causing her to clench around nothing

Yelena who starts to realize a little too late that she’s getting off on your leg and has left you high and dry . Who pulls away from your mouth to ask if you want to switch but when your lips come into contact with the sensitive skin of her nape quickly shuts down the prospect of stopping.

Yelena who lets out the most melodic moans known to man and groans you can feel in your stomach as she grinds against you. Who’s hips are starting to pick up pacing along with her breathing that gives you just enough of a hint for what’s coming before it does.

Yelena who throws her head back and lets out the most broken raspy moan of your name you’ve ever heard in your life as strong legs press against your thighs and hips rutt animistically against you as she cums in her pants.

Yelena who is all to aware and very embarrassed about the fact that she just came virtually untouched in her pants . Who looks down at you with bashful and almost tentative eyes only to be met you own that are blown wide in arousal and adoration. Who apologizes anyway even if you brush them off because that was totally not cool.

Yelena who has no idea what she’s doing but she’ll learn and she’ll learn quickly as long as it means she gets to learn with and for you.

✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿

𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝

[panlight]

In Life and Death SMeyer wanted to show how everything would be the same with flipped genders, but we all know it wouldn't work like that. So, based on their flipped genders and kind of changed backstories (especially in Jessamine's case), which special abilities do you think the Cullens should have?

I think Carine still works with compassion or something compassion-adjacent (not a super power technically but you get the idea). And actually I wonder if people would be less critical of her actions vs Carlisle? That is, I don't really see people talking about consent and damnation when it comes to Sasha of the Denali creating her "daughters" (none of whom were on the verge of death so far as we know). Maybe there's some subconscious thing where a woman making vampire 'children' is more akin to birth (no one chose to be a vampire, but no one chose to be born either), whereas the power dynamics of a man making the choice for someone else, especially women, weirds people out? I don't know, maybe I'm way off base there, but I feel like there might be SOMETHING.

Carine's story is pretty much the same, just limited by what women were allowed to do in the medical field. There's also a bit of a "punish a man by hurting a woman" there in that the vampire who bit her explicitly did so to punish Pastor Cullen, but since I already sort of headcanoned that for Carlisle anyway, it didn't bother me much.

The difference was the Carine wasn't out doing the vampire hunting herself; likewise Jessamine had much less agency than Jasper, who actively chose to lie about his age to enlist. Jessamine was just kidnapped from her home. (And again, the dynamics of a male vampire breaking into someone's home and kidnapping her to turn her into a vampire just feels very different than three vampire women being approached by a man who thought they needed help. Yas Maria, slay Maria! Ew, gross Mariano!) So we have no evidence really Jessamine had the same power as Jasper as a human; she also had no military experience so she would have had a much steeper learning curve than Jasper in terms of learning how to fight, how to train, how to command. I've always thought that Jasper's power should have been mental anyway so let's make Jessamine's power mental instead. She can still sense and manipulate emotions but no more of that weird heartbeat and endorphin stuff (that doesn't seem like would apply to vampires anyway??), it's mental. Wouldn't work on Beau/Bella then I guess.

Royal can keep beauty, Eleanor can keep strength. I like how those upend expectations. And Eleanor's backstory stayed pretty much the same: being mauled by a bear. Good for her! I appreciate that SM still had them get married repeatedly; although I don't remember if it's still because Royal likes to do it. I hope so because again, it upends expectations (the man being wedding-obsessed) and it keeps them closer to their original characterizations.

Earnest's story is very different than Esme's (and again, I must ask, why not 'Ezra?' It's right there and just feels right! Even feels like the name of a kid who grew up on a farm). But again, I like upending expectations by having this sweet, loving house-husband while Carine is out there working. I do wonder, if we had seen more of Earnest, if SM would have made that Power of Heart more dad-like ("step into my office" "let's play catch" "You can tell your old man anything") than the just sort of bubble of love surrounding Esme but I don't know. It might also manifest differently because Earnest's child was older and was actively murdered by his wife. Esme only had her child for a few days and he died of natural causes. Those experiences are very different and might shape what form the Power to Love Passionately takes and how Earnest applies it to his family. He might be a bit more anxious? More protective? He knows his new children are basically indestructible but that helplessness he felt when he lost his human daughter might color how he reacts.

That leaves Archie and Edythe. You can't really change their powers too much because so much of the plot relies on them. And really I haven't changed much of the others either. I think the powers would be pretty similar because they are based on traits shared between the two versions of the characters, but how they used them, how they manifested, might be different because of their different lived experiences. Archie growing up as an eldest son rather than an eldest daughter (and does this mean his mother hires someone to kill his father and his mother and step-father lock him up? How deep does the gender swap go?) might change things like, perhaps he's more or less likely to tell people about his visions because of different societal expectations. Perhaps Edythe's latent ability to "read" people is seen as less impressive than Edward's, like, "oh she's a girl of course she has strong emotional intelligence" or whatever vs Edward being this sensitive piano prodigy was more of an outlier.

Life and Death is such an interesting experience because SM kept a lot of the dialogue word-for-word from Twilight. Earnest has almost all the same lines as Esme, etc. But she changed the backstories to fit gender expectations.

[g3tinl0ser]

Cant come up with a title for this. it will be a Caius mate story. not sure how long honest. but feel free to shoot me name ideas or things you'd like to see happen!

MASTERLIST

Living as a vampire carries its own unique trials, an eternity of unchanging existence interwoven with emotions that cut deeper than mortal hearts could ever endure. Nothing illustrated this more profoundly than your relationship with Edward Cullen. Before the transformation, you were inseparable, bound by a love so fierce it seemed eternal even before immortality sealed your fates. Together, you navigated the strange, tumultuous world of vampirism, finding solace and purpose in one another amidst the chaos of your new reality. For a time, it was as close to perfect as creatures like you could dare to dream.

But everything shattered when Bella entered Edward’s life. She was his blood singer, a siren in human form, her very presence a temptation he couldn’t resist. Though you knew, deep in your immortal soul, that she wasn’t his true mate, Edward was drawn to her with a force neither of you could comprehend. Watching him drift toward her was like standing helplessly in the path of a tidal wave, unable to stop it, unable to save yourself. The man who had been your constant through lifetimes walked away, leaving you to grapple with a betrayal so profound it felt as if eternity itself had turned on you.

The pain was indescribable. How could he abandon everything you had built together? A century of shared existence as vampires. Five tender years as human lovers. The weight of those years, the trust you had forged over time, felt irreplaceable, until it wasn’t. His departure tore through you like jagged glass, leaving wounds that even immortality could not heal. You questioned everything: his love, his loyalty, and your own worth. The betrayal lingered in your chest, a phantom ache that no passage of time could soothe.

Edward’s apologies were frequent, his explanations earnest, but they only deepened the wound. He spoke of Bella with a mix of awe and torment, as if struggling to make sense of his own feelings. He insisted that his pull toward her wasn’t a rejection of you or what you shared, but rather some inexplicable compulsion, a force of nature that neither of you could have foreseen. And yet, his honesty, however well-meaning, felt like salt in the wound, each word a reminder of the love he had willingly risked for someone else.

Even now, you struggle to reconcile the man you once knew with the one who left you behind. Was it weakness? Was it something broken in him, or in you? Edward’s departure wasn’t about your worth or the depth of your bond, and yet, that knowledge does little to ease the ache. It was a cruel twist of fate, an evolution of his emotions that neither of you could control. But knowing that doesn’t make it any less painful.

Eternity once seemed a gift when you faced it together. Now, it feels like a curse, stretching endlessly ahead, haunted by the echoes of what you lost.

Staying with the Cullen family after Edward left was an act of resilience, a daily test of your ability to endure the weight of loss. Every corner of the house carried echoes of what you once had, a love you thought would span eternity. Yet, amidst the pain, you found strength in the bonds you had forged with the others, bonds that kept you tethered when it felt like you might drift away.

Carlisle and Esme were your anchors, their unwavering support a steady light in the storm. Carlisle often reassured you, his gentle voice filled with conviction, that your mate was still out there. That one day, you would be loved as deeply and completely as you deserved. It was a comfort, even if it felt impossible to believe. Esme, ever the nurturing soul, would stroke your hair as you rested your head in her lap, her touch soft and motherly, as if willing some of her boundless warmth to seep into your fractured heart.

Rosalie and Emmett became your greatest sources of distraction, pulling you out of your grief and grounding you in the present. Rosalie introduced you to the intricacies of vehicles, and together you spent countless hours in the garage. She was patient and meticulous, her passion for the craft infectious. Emmett, rarely far from her side, had set up his own gaming station in the corner of the garage. You couldn’t help but smile at how inseparable they were, even when doing their own things. Between rounds of whatever game he was immersed in, you’d catch him sneaking adoring glances at Rosalie. She’d pause her work to ask how he was doing, genuinely interested in his animated rants about his latest strategy. Their bond was effortless, a quiet yet powerful reminder of what love could be.

Emmett also became your outlet for the anger and energy you couldn’t seem to contain. Together, you took down more trees than you could count during your wrestling matches, the crashes loud enough to draw attention from nearby humans. After a stern scolding from Carlisle, your sparring sessions moved to bare-knuckle boxing in the backyard. Jasper often watched, entertained by the fiery matches, though the others were less amused.

It was during one of these bouts that Edward finally snapped. His voice, sharp and unfamiliar in its anger, cut through the tension like the crack of thunder before a storm. “You’ve scared her,” he accused, his words heavy with condemnation. “She doesn’t feel safe here because of you.”

The accusation hit like a slap to the face, leaving a stinging shock that lingered in the silence. The weight of his misplaced judgment bore down, harsher than any physical blow could have been. You opened your mouth to respond, but the words faltered, caught in the tangled web of disbelief and indignation.

“Scared her?” you finally managed, your voice low but shaking. “I barely speak to her, Edward. How could I possibly scare her?”

Edward’s eyes blazed, his jaw tight as though holding back the full force of his anger. “It’s not just what you say,” he retorted, his voice trembling with restrained fury. “It’s the way you look at her. Bella’s worried your anger will turn on her one day. She told me she’s afraid to be alone in the same room as you.”

The words struck harder than you expected, winding you. Bella, afraid? Of you? The notion was absurd, yet Edward spoke with such conviction it almost made you question yourself. Almost.

You shook your head, trying to process the accusation. “I’ve never done anything to hurt her,” you said, your voice rising. “I’ve never blamed her for, for you leaving. I haven’t threatened her or even bad-mouthed her to anyone but Rosalie, and she doesn’t count. She doesn’t like Bella anyway.”

Edward’s expression darkened further, and for a moment, the room felt smaller, the air heavier. “That’s not the point,” he shot back. “Intentions don’t matter if she feels unsafe.”

“Unsafe?” The word burned on your tongue. “This is my home, Edward. I’ve done everything I can to make it comfortable for her. If she’s afraid, maybe it’s because of you constantly filling her head with paranoia about me.”

The accusation seemed to strike a nerve. Edward’s fists clenched at his sides, and his gaze darted to the floor for a brief moment, as if weighing whether to respond.

“This isn’t about me,” he said finally, his voice quieter but no less intense. “It’s about her. All I’m asking is that you think about how you come across. You don’t see it, but, ”

“But what?” you interrupted, stepping forward, your voice rising with each word. “But I’m some sort of monster? Someone incapable of being in the same room as her without scaring her to death?”

Before Edward could respond, the sound of footsteps echoed through the hall, and the rest of the family appeared. Carlisle and Esme entered first, their faces etched with concern. Alice hovered near the doorway, her sharp gaze darting between you and Edward, as though trying to predict the next move. Behind her, Emmett loomed, his large frame filling the space. His expression was grim, his posture tense and ready, as if expecting the need to step in.

“What’s going on?” Carlisle asked, his voice calm but firm, cutting through the heated tension.

“Edward thinks I’m some kind of threat,” you said bitterly, gesturing toward him. “He’s accusing me of scaring Bella.”

“Edward,” Esme said gently but with an undercurrent of disapproval. “That’s a serious thing to say. Are you sure?”

“Bella told me herself,” Edward insisted, though his voice faltered slightly under Esme’s gaze.

Emmett took a step closer to you, his broad shoulders squared as he positioned himself slightly in front of you. “That’s enough,” he said, his deep voice steady and protective. “You don’t get to throw accusations around like that without proof.”

Edward glared at Emmett, his frustration evident, but he didn’t reply. The room felt charged, the silence stretching as everyone processed the scene.

“Let’s all take a step back,” Carlisle said, his tone soothing but authoritative. “We need to address this calmly. Edward, if Bella has concerns, we’ll address them, but accusations won’t solve anything. And you,” he added, turning to you, “have every right to defend yourself, but let’s not escalate this further.”

You nodded stiffly, though your jaw remained tight. Emmett stayed close, his presence a solid reminder that you weren’t alone in this. The family’s intervention diffused the immediate tension, but the storm between you and Edward was far from over. For now, though, the room was quiet save for the unspoken words lingering in the air.

Rosalie’s voice rang in your mind, sharp and sarcastic. “Typical Edward,” she’d say. “Always the self-righteous protector.” And maybe, just maybe, she’d be right this time.

Still, his words lingered, heavy and suffocating. You’d been toying with the idea of leaving for some time, and this moment pushed you over the edge. The choice crystallized in your mind, clear and inescapable. The tension in the room seemed to ripple as you made your decision, and Edward’s head snapped toward you, his expression shifting from anger to alarm. He’d heard your thoughts.

“No,” he murmured, shaking his head, his voice low but urgent. “You don’t have to do this. Don’t go.”

But it was too late. You had already turned away, the decision a quiet roar in your mind. Each step felt heavy yet purposeful, the weight of the moment grounding you even as your heart ached. Behind you, Edward’s voice faltered, and for the first time, you heard it break.

“Please,” he whispered, almost inaudible, the single word laced with desperation.

You paused for the briefest of moments, your hand resting on the doorframe. You could feel the family’s eyes on you, the unspoken pleas mingling with Edward’s. But the choice had already been made. With a steady breath, you stepped forward, the door closing softly behind you.

The silence that followed was deafening, the weight of your absence settling over the room like a heavy fog. Emmett stood frozen, his protective stance faltering as he processed your departure. Rosalie’s voice echoed in your mind, sharp and sarcastic: “Typical Edward. Always the self-righteous protector.” This time, though, her words felt like a hollow comfort. Whatever came next, you knew one thing for certain: there was no turning back.

As you wandered through the sunlit streets of Athens, a profound sense of connection settled over you, as though the city’s ancient soul was reaching out to yours. Each step you took on the sun-warmed stone felt like a conversation with history, the whispers of a thousand forgotten voices echoing in the air. The fragrant aroma of fresh basil and thyme mingled with the faint saltiness of the Aegean breeze, grounding you in the present even as the past seemed to ripple through every corner. Street musicians played melodies that seemed to straddle the line between joy and sorrow, their music weaving effortlessly into the bustling life of the city.

Athens had become more than a refuge, it was a sanctuary, a place where you were learning to piece yourself back together. Edward’s departure had left you fractured, but here, among the winding alleys adorned with cascading bougainvillea, you felt the faint flickers of resilience take root. The city whispered its secrets of survival and renewal, offering you lessons embedded in its very foundations. It was as if the ruins, weathered but enduring, mirrored your own slow journey toward healing.

Still, there was something else, an inexplicable pull, like a thread tethering you to the city itself. At times, it felt like a sharp tug in the center of your chest, coming and going with the cadence of your steps. It wasn’t a burden, but a strange, persistent energy, a call from something within Athens that resonated with a part of you you hadn’t yet come to understand.

Rebuilding your heart had been anything but easy. There were days when the weight of grief felt insurmountable, when the shadows of what once was threatened to pull you under. But you pushed forward, carving out an identity that existed wholly apart from Edward. It was just you, your strengths, your vulnerabilities, your ambitions. And day by day, you found yourself growing stronger, more certain of the person you were becoming. The sunlight seemed brighter now, as though it had been waiting for you to see it again, casting its golden warmth on your newfound independence.

For the first time, you felt an unexpected gratitude for your gift, the ability to alter your features, to manipulate your skin so you could walk among the sunlit streets without fear. It had been a gateway to rediscovery, granting you months of exploring the beauty of the world in daylight. Greece, with its rich cultures and vibrant landscapes, had wrapped you in its embrace. Every conversation with locals, every taste of the country’s food, every moment spent immersed in the rhythm of its life added to the mosaic of who you were becoming.

Now, as you stood atop a hillside overlooking Athens, the city unfolded before you, bathed in the fiery hues of a setting sun. The Acropolis glowed like a beacon, its golden light a reminder of resilience and endurance. The chatter of voices and the distant laughter of strangers wove into the air, a symphony of life continuing to move forward. You closed your eyes for a moment, inhaling deeply as a sense of clarity washed over you, filling every corner of your being.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, you felt… whole. Whole enough to envision a future untainted by bitterness or fear. Whole enough to let the past remain in its place, as a lesson rather than a weight. And as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the city into soft twilight, you opened your eyes, ready to embrace whatever lay ahead.

You were ready. The certainty settled over you like the calming weight of a long-forgotten melody. Ready to return to the Cullens, to confront the tangled web of emotions that bound you to them. You would try one last time to find your place within their family, a place where your presence wasn’t overshadowed by misunderstandings or silent tensions. If it didn’t work out? You could accept that, too. Life had shown you that paths diverged, and sometimes, forging a new one was the only way forward.

The idea of leaving wasn’t one of defeat but of choice. You had options now, ones that didn’t feel like a compromise. Maybe Rosalie and Emmett would join you, and together you could create something entirely your own, a coven built on shared dreams and chosen bonds. The thought wasn’t laced with bitterness but with possibility, the kind of freedom that came with knowing you could finally decide what your life would be.

As the sun dipped lower, its light casting the sky in gentle hues of lavender and gold, you allowed yourself a rare moment of stillness. The air was cool and comforting against your skin, carrying the faint hum of the city below. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, you were truly at peace. The weight you’d carried for so long had lifted, replaced by the quiet hum of anticipation for whatever was to come.

Then, the shrill ring of your phone shattered the tranquility, the sound a discordant intrusion against the serene backdrop of the evening. Fishing it out of your pocket, you glanced at the screen, and a wry smirk tugged at your lips. How poetic, you thought. Thousands of miles from home, basking in a moment of clarity and newfound strength, only to be interrupted by the one person who had once left you in ruins.

Edward.

For a moment, you considered letting it ring out. But something, perhaps the raw edge of fate tugging at your chest, made you answer.

“Hello?” Your voice was steady, though your heart beat harder in your chest.

There was silence on the other end, heavy and trembling, before Edward spoke. “She’s gone,” he said, his voice low and fractured.

“What are you talking about?” you asked sharply, the sudden weight of his words clawing at your chest.

“Bella,” he whispered. “She’s… she’s dead.”

The world seemed to tilt, and you had to grip the edge of the table to steady yourself. “What do you mean, dead? What happened?”

“I don’t have time to explain,” he said, his words brittle and rushed. “I just needed to tell you, I’m going to the Volturi. It ends tonight.”

The breath left your lungs in a sharp exhale. “The Volturi?” you repeated, the name like ice on your tongue. “Edward, no. Don’t, ”

“There’s nothing left,” he interrupted, his voice breaking. “I’ve already failed her. I can’t, ”

“Stop,” you said firmly, your tone cutting through his spiral. “You don’t get to make this decision for the rest of us. For me. You’re giving up, Edward, and you’re not thinking about what that’ll do to us. To your family.”

“I have thought about it,” he said, softer now. “And I know… I know how much I’ve failed you, too. I treated you like you didn’t matter. Like your pain didn’t matter.” His voice cracked, and he exhaled shakily. “I should’ve treated you better. I should’ve loved you better.”

Your throat tightened, his words reaching places you had long thought numb. “Edward…”

“I don’t deserve forgiveness,” he murmured, cutting you off. “But I’m sorry, for everything. For leaving you behind. For blaming you for things that were never your fault. You deserved so much more than what I gave you.”

The weight of his apology settled over you like a stone, both unexpected and crushing. “Edward, if you’re sorry, then prove it. Stay alive. Don’t do this.”

For a moment, there was silence, his hesitation palpable. Then, in a voice so quiet it was almost a breath, he said, “Goodbye.”

“Edward-”

The line went dead, and the silence on the other end rang louder than anything he could’ve said.

You lowered the phone slowly, your hands trembling. The room felt suffocating, and the only thing you knew was that you couldn’t let him do this. Not like this.

To Volterra.

[twilightishot]

Moodboard of Carine Cullen

[holly-and-honeybees]

Earnest Adam Platt Cullen aesthetic from my original "Twilight" fanfiction "Midnight"

[pascaloverx]

Moonlight

Summary: You and Edward Cullen used to have a romantic relationship. But fate seemed not to believe in the possibility of a vampire and a potential she-wolf being together. Years after your separation, you return to Forks. Edward is committed to Bella Swan, and Jacob Black has his own pack. What happens when, upon your return, you begin to transform into a she-wolf and both Edward and Jacob seem eager to revisit the past with you?

Author's Note: The characters in this fanfic do not belong to me but to Stephenie Meyer and the Twilight universe. The story blends events that happened in the Twilight saga movies with invented ones. If you're enjoying the fanfic, please interact. This story will contain inappropriate language, a possible love triangle, scenes of violence, and romance. I would appreciate it if those who enjoy the fanfic could leave a comment and like (kudos). Engagement helps me know that there are still people reading.

TEN FINAL

ELEVEN

You wake up the next morning feeling a slight ache in your body, but there is not a hint of regret for what happened with Edward. Not finding him beside you is a bit of a surprise, and for a brief moment, your mind wonders if he might have second thoughts. Then, the sound of the shower reaches you, and relief washes over you as you realize he’s just gone to freshen up.

You can't help but feel an unusual happiness—something you haven't experienced in so long. The fact that you and Edward spent the night together, without either of you pulling away or feeling regretful, sends a flutter of excitement through you, like butterflies in your stomach.

"Relax, I’m not going anywhere without you," Edward calls from the bathroom, his voice reassuring yet playful.

"Stop eavesdropping on my thoughts, you nosy vampire," you retort, a smile tugging at your lips as you rummage through a drawer, looking for something to wear. After last night, a wave of hunger hits you, and you realize you need food.

Wearing a dress you found in one of your suitcases, you head down to the kitchen. You make eggs, bacon, and coffee, and with a growling stomach, you devour it all in a nearly ravenous manner. The speed leaves you feeling a bit nauseous, but after sipping your coffee, a warm calm settles over you. Edward comes down the stairs, moving quickly to wrap his arms around your waist from behind, his hands resting on your stomach in a soothing gesture, as if he could somehow ease your discomfort. You smile, kissing his cheek and nestling against him.

“I was thinking,” he murmurs near your ear, his tone casual yet serious, “it seems our only real option now is marriage. We’d make things official before your pack and my family.” You turn to look at him, needing to see his face to know if he’s truly serious. But his expression is steady, earnest, as though he’s proposing a practical solution rather than a life-altering commitment.

“Marriage is our only option? How practical of you,” you say, trying to stay rational despite the flurry of thoughts swirling in your mind. After everything we’ve been through—all the ups and downs, the constant push and pull—it seems so drastic to be talking about marriage now, you think, feeling both excited and apprehensive at the same time.

“That’s exactly why we should,” Edward replies, as if he’s hearing your thoughts. “In a strange way, I think the chances of us separating would be smaller if we were married.” You stare at him, torn between your excitement and your reservations, and give his arm a gentle smack, still not entirely sure if he’s serious.

"We’re forgetting that traditional marriages not only take time but also come with a certain vow that says 'till death do us part'—and, well, that’s already happened. Hate to break it to you, but you’re dead, darling," you say, almost laughing as you watch Edward’s expression grow serious. To soften the mood, you plant a quick kiss on his lips, a playful gesture that makes his eyes lighten again. He lets out a reluctant smile, his tension melting a little as he pulls you closer.

"Our wedding doesn’t need to be traditional—a small ceremony, just with my family and anyone you'd like to invite. Carlisle could officiate, symbolically. In front of those we care about, I’d vow to be yours until your final breath. I, Edward Cullen, would promise to love you for as long as I exist, until your last heartbeat. What do you think?" Edward's voice is passionate, his intense gaze pulling you in, making the idea of this promise feel as real as any vow.

You step closer, leaning in as if to kiss him. Just inches from his lips, you murmur, "Then let’s do it—our own 'till death do us part.' Get ready, Cullen; you’re about to be officially mine." Edward doesn’t wait for another word, pulling you in for a kiss filled with a fervor that leaves no room for hesitation.

"Would it be too hasty to suggest we do this before you change your mind—or the world splits in two?" Edward murmurs, breaking the kiss, and you laugh. Given your history, doing this quickly might actually be wise.

"I still need to get a dress for the occasion. But I agree, we shouldn't waste time. I’ll invite my pack, sort out the dress, and then we can get married," you reply, trying to stay practical. Edward, however, looks like he has something to share.

"I don’t want to seem like an overly prepared fiancé, but… Alice may or may not have foreseen that you’d say yes. And she may or may not have picked out a few dresses with Esme in the time it took us to reconcile. She also saw you’d like this ring," he says, pulling out a small box and opening it to reveal one of the most beautiful engagement rings you've ever seen. Gently, he slides it onto your finger as you take in everything happening.

"Somehow, it feels like you're cheating by using your sister's foresight for our engagement. But, the ring is gorgeous, and I do trust Alice's taste," you say with a smile, admiring the ring on your finger.

"We could hold it in front of my family’s house," Edward says, kissing your cheek. "That way, there’s nothing to worry about—Alice and the rest are already prepared to arrange everything. Even Rosalie." You can’t help but think that maybe you’re rushing things, but honestly, who cares?

"Alright, let’s have the ceremony there. I just need to invite my pack, and then I’ll head to your house to get ready. As long as you understand that after our unconventional wedding, we'll be living here," you say, holding Edward’s gaze. It feels strange, telling a vampire you'll be settling in a house with such deep ties to wolves, but you know you’ll feel more at ease in your own home than in the Cullen residence.

"This might be the most human conversation we’ll have. Should we talk about getting a pet—or children?" Edward asks with a hint of humor, but you take the question seriously, knowing it's important to consider the future.

"There’s no need for a pet when I turn into a wolf from time to time. And while I know we can’t have children biologically, at least as far as we know, maybe we should talk about adoption. Somehow, your parents managed it, so maybe we could try," you reply, watching as his expression shifts, a slight shadow crossing his face.

"Y/N, I love you. But I don't think I can give you a family. Esme and Carlisle have what it takes to raise someone, but I don’t believe I do. Especially since we are two beings of different species. We'll need to learn how to live as two. A third person could complicate that," Edward says sincerely, holding your hand delicately. He is right; adding another person into the mix would undoubtedly complicate things. Yet, you can’t help but feel a wave of sadness wash over you at the thought. Why does the idea of a family feel so unattainable? Perhaps it's the longing for something deeper—a shared life that includes not just the two of you, but the warmth of laughter and chaos that children can bring.

"You’re right; it was foolish of me to think any aspect of our life would be normal. I’ll go upstairs and get ready to speak with my pack," you say, heading toward the stairs. But Edward pulls you in by the waist, holding you from behind in a strong embrace followed by a kiss on your neck.

"I don’t want you to feel foolish for wanting a family. I just want you to understand that a future with me likely won’t include a family larger than the one we already have. But know that by marrying, your pack will become my family, and my family will become yours," Edward speaks softly.

You sigh, then murmur, "It will be enough for just you and me against the world, my dear," as you gently remove his arms from around you and ascend the stairs. You don’t take long to get ready, but by the time you finish, Edward has already left. He leaves a note saying he went to prepare for the wedding and that he will be waiting for you. With a determined nod, you grab your keys and head to your car, driving to Jacob's house.

As you drive, the discomfort in your stomach lingers, perhaps from the stress of the day. It only intensifies when you pull up in front of Jacob's house and see him surrounded by your pack and Bella Swan. Great. You take a deep breath, refusing to let it shake you. Stepping out of the car, you put on a friendly smile, determined to handle whatever comes next.

Seth speaks up first, “Y/N, we didn’t expect to see you here now.” His voice is casual, but everyone’s gaze is fixed on you, including Jacob’s, who stands silently with the rest of the pack beside Bella.

Bella's eyes drift to the ring on your finger, her expression tight. "I suppose you're here to tell us you’re back with Edward," she says, voice laced with a faint cynicism. "Congratulations are in order, I see." She extends a hand toward you, her smile barely polite.

You meet her handshake with composure, a soft smile gracing your lips as you reply, "Thank you, Bella. I appreciate your kindness." The words hang in the air, subtly charged, as all eyes remain fixed on the two of you. Her expression is almost unreadable, but there’s an edge to her tone that doesn't escape you.

Jacob clears his throat, breaking the tension. “So… this is really happening?” he asks, his gaze fixed on the ring glinting on your finger. His voice carries a mix of surprise and something else—a hint of concern, maybe even disappointment.

Yes, it’s happening. I hope all of you will attend. Including you, Bella," you say, turning to her with a calm expression. "I know Edward would be glad to see you there."

You look around at the rest of the pack, meeting each of their gazes in turn. "As for the rest of you, you’re my pack—my only family. So it would mean a lot to have you there."

TO BE CONTINUED...

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

Now that there's an animated adaptation of Midnight Sun coming, and given the industry's recent track record (see: Minecraft Movie), what's the worst, bad faith, cash grab adaptation idea you can imagine? I figure if we inoculate ourselves then the reality won't suck so much.

My nightmare: Streaming has a long history of making shitty attempts at "adult animation", so we'll get an Edward who constantly cusses and does lewd jokes. It'll be like the HBO adult animated Velma (Scooby Doo) show where the writers' disdain for the characters fills every scene. The first episode will focus on how Carlisle helps plan a murder of some overly suspicious deputy so they can keep living in Forks.

Anyways, worst case theories? So we can feel better when it's not THAT bad? Or else use the apollo prophecy meme on your post a year or two from now.

My 'realistic' prediction

Twilight: The Edgy Animated Adult Series with Twelve Times More Drugs and Swearing

Oh man, yours is worse than mine. I mean this guessing the future business is a little silly in general, but I think that wouldn't happen as Twilight's not...

How do I put this?

Scooby Doo is a beloved, vintage, IP that's so well-known it's a part of American culture/Americana. It's in that weird place where it's acceptable to do edgy reboots of it because everyone already knows the premise of the Scooby gang, each individual character, the bad guys, and their mysteries.

You don't have to explain who any of the characters are supposed to be, so you get a "ah ha ha ha isn't it funny that Velma swears now?" because you know she's from a 1960's cartoon.

Twilight's not quite old enough for that and, at least in my opinion, not pervasive enough for that. It was a huge sensation, but was never as big as HP, and dominated only a subset of the YA audience (female-targeted YA romance). Ask a person off the street and the most they can probably, maybe, tell you is "sparkly vampires and Team Edward and Team Jacob". So, at best you get riffs like we saw when Twilight came out with the Simpsons and various other parodies where the parodies... really didn't know what to do with the characters or what it was even about. "Milhouse turns into a poodle, I guess? Is that funny? It's funny, right?"

Twilight just isn't old enough and as big as it was, I don't think was widespread enough.

So, I think we're going to get an earnest reboot.

But you do now have me concerned. And I may be eating my words later on this post and reblogging with a clown face.

Other Theories

Alright, let's see what we've got/what we can come up with:

Yours: HBO adult comedy horror fest

Mine: Boring, Snoozeville, Tame, Generically Arted Palatable Twilight that is Designed to Be as Appealing as Possible

Other options I can think of are...

Interview with a Vampirepalooza/Oh God I Don't Know What's Popular: given the recent success of Interview with a Vampire, an edgier adult story with adult characters, Netflix will look to make Twilight their exact own version of that. Except they won't understand what made it work there. We sexy it up but in a CW way, the kids are all still in high school but the fact that the Cullens are fucking each other is brought up relentlessly in an edgy way. The vampires all look hot, hot, hot but in a normal human way where you're not terrified they're some crystal robot out to eat your limbs. We'll keep some of the artsy weird dialogue, but Edward will be both somehow made more sympathetic (as he is the lead we end up with) and 'dark' where he's dangerous in a sexy way and not in a "you smell like my personal heroin way".

The Buffy Route: remember that one teen show from the 90's that was so good it spun off an entire genre of television that essentially hadn't existed before? Twilight becomes a fun teen oriented show where the characters say witty, fun, teenage-like things and get into episodic mysteries while somehow trying to remain in the realm of Twilight. Edward loses his edge, Bella loses her unrelatable nature, and we really play up every time a character has a funny line and write a lot more in there. Unfortunately, it's not a well written teen comedy show and so the lines are just generally bad and the plot never seems to go anywhere and it's just boring.

Hannibal the Twilight: some really artsy director gets involved and we now have a show where the symbolism of Edward walking around as a man-deer takes over the entire fucking thing. Nothing ever happens, Edward just shows up in Bella's dreams as a snarling man deer. When characters talk to each other, it's in artsy nonsense dialogue where it feels like both are reading 2000's era chatbot scripts to one another as they mix metaphors about ponies, china pottery, and dust motes. The plot is so non-existant the only important episodes to watch in a season are the premier and finale, except even then it's unclear what happened.

Audience Input

Anyone else got any wild guesses here?

[mythals-whore]

WIP Word game

THE RULES ARE: You get a word (or in my case, seven words) and you share one sentence/excerpt from your wip(s) that starts with each letter of your word!

@basedonconjecture @hyperions-light @jouskaroo @rookamell @thedissonantverses & @seaglassmelody (shoutout to @becausedragonage who Dm'd me a word also)

I am genuinely giggling & kicking my feet to be thought of so many times. Luckily for all of us I have a hefty WIP folder and wordcount. But! To make this fun for me I've pulled from all my WIPs and I'm not going to tell you which ones.

FATES

F - Fingers thrusting roughly into the hair at Harding's nape, tugging some of it loose from its careful braids. She doesn't seem to mind, moaning breathily into Taash's mouth like she had dreamed this and can't quite believe it's happening.

A - And he’s never enjoyed a chase more than this one—though he considers that maybe it’s because he’s never sure he has her. Even now.

T - “The Viper.” She says, extending a delicate hand and a sultry smile.

E - Even the candles aren’t lit, as if the Lighthouse itself knows what the others won’t accept. Rook isn’t coming back.

S - She tries to blink away the burning in her eyes. Her chest. "I can’t afford to make the mistake you did."

VIPER

V - Viper,

I did manage to stop by that tea shop, thank you for the recommendation. I was able to place a regular order for the jasmine blend you requested. Tested it out myself while I was there. Sweeter than I expected, but reliable.

I - Instead, tears start rolling heavily down her face. And then Davrin is on his knees in front of her, reaching for her without even a moment’s hesitation. The moment he touches her, the breath she attempts to take turns into a sob and the tears start sliding down her face in earnest.

P - Purposeful and thorough in the way Davrin always is. And there’s something in it, this kiss. Some promise that she’s not yet ready for.

E - Even if thinking it hones the wanting into something so sharp it carves something out of her. Something that she knows is no longer hers, anyway.

R - Real panic starts to rise in her throat then. She would not die without a fight. She would not die like this, she would not allow that future she’d seen to pass, not any version of it.

WOUND

W - Whatever it takes. The trouble is that she knows how hollow victory rings when the chasm left by loss is too deep to hear it.

O - One that she hopes conveys it all: I’m here. You’re safe with me. 

U - Usually he marveled at it, but now it made him frantic with the need to know what it was that she was thinking.

N - Not a cathedral like this, but a smaller chantry. Three pews deep and a candelabra with chipped gold paint. It’d been brief, and she stood uncertainly at the back while he knelt at that altar.

D - "Did you love me?" She knows exactly why she asks the question. Knows why her heart leaps into her throat. Still she can't bring herself to look at him, though she feels his wide eyes. Sees his mouth open and close again from the corner of her eye.

KALEIDESCOPE

K - Knowing that she wanted him, knowing what she tasted like—it was unbearable.

A - As she floats toward them, the slightly puffed sleeves that hang off her shoulders flow up and down, almost like the beating of great wings. Her hair is long and loose, but pulled back from her face with golden combs.

L - Lyria is gathering that he’s quite angry with her, but can’t quite figure out why.

“If you were one of my men, I’d have you demoted—and sitting in the brig for a week at least.”

E - Either because the woman shows almost no fear in the face of old gods and fish freak her out or because he still can’t quite believe that she’s tucked herself into his bed with the intent to sleep there.

I - It’s different, somehow, to watch him undress himself.

S - She is not just another polished little piece on their board, some play thing that they can simply use and discard. And though he knew they needed her to be, he hated it all the same.

C - Cullen immediately wishes for any way to erase it—to even take it from her for a moment.

O - One of her hands was pressed against her face and her mouth hung slightly open. She looked so young lying there—much too young to have the weight of all Thedas on her shoulders

P - Part of a set he's been working on quietly. Battered, but still intact.

E - Especially as he pulls the first boot off, and presses a rather chaste kiss to the inside of her ankle before starting work on the other.

MAGIC

M - "My wife is never wrong." a warm smile curls his lip, throwing the scar there into sharp relief, "She won’t let Rook stay lost."

A - And Taash has yet to meet another Lord who can even comprehend the word prude.

G - Growing up in the magisterium, paraded around constantly, he’d grown used to donning a bland, pleased expression. He’d learned to staunch most of his tells. But those bright green eyes flicking over him unabashedly is almost enough to make him blush. Ashur is grateful for the mask covering his face.

I - "I’m never going to catch a break with you, am I?" Davrin asks, brushing her hair from her face with a sigh. A sly smile slides across her mouth, "You need breaks now?"

C - Cyrilla Mercar, so plagued by pain and loss. Second guessing yourself at every turn."

LUCID

L - Like they’re two threads finally being woven together.

U - Until last night, he thought such stories were mere exaggerations. He recalls a time he would have thought a loss of control like that reason enough for the circle to exist, but now he felt a sort of smug satisfaction over it. The commander did quite like winning, and he couldn’t deny that those rolls of thunder certainly sounded like victory.

C - Clearly grieving and eager to throw herself into her work, but for a spymaster who deals in secrets, she was…unexpected. Sharp and shrewd, yes. But there was another side to her, too. A part of her that wanted to be warm and soft. 

I - "I can’t afford to make the mistake you did."

D - "Did it hurt, like—?"

BISCUIT

B - Beneath the silken buttons, some inner corset is laced. He clears his throat again, hesitating. “Do you want me to…?”

I - If you betray us again—betray her—there is nowhere you can go, Dread Wolf, that I will not find you.

S - Sick burns Cullen’s throat, because he understands immediately.

C - Cullen manages to spin her once, and her eyes crinkle warmly, even letting out a short, breathy laugh.

It may be the most valuable thing Cullen was ever given in his life.

U - Unnecessary, because when her clothing is discarded his hands are immediately sliding over her thighs, like he never wants it to stop, either.

I - “I only had to kill one guy.” she shrugs.

“Jesus, Cyri—”

T - "Then you get to do what you always wanted: save the world all on your own."

I am tagging @sugar-peanut-cat @the-sparrohawk @gingervitus and anyone else who hasn't done this already, please do this please tag me. Your word is LANGUISH (and/or RECONCILE)

[specialagentartemis]

I read with a deep interest for the fate of Troy, and with a kindly feeling toward Hector, whose part I took warmly against the bloodthirsty Achilles; and great as might have been the guilt of Paris, I read with an earnest wish that Troy might be delivered from its besiegers.

Mood, William Cullen Bryant

[serensama]

Ctrl + F Game

Thank you @mythals-whore @thedissonantverses and @introvertedfangrl for the tag!

I got scowl, sweet, echo as well as tremble, alight and previous. Unfortunately, none of my latest WIP's had alight or previous!!! :(

--- Lucanis cut her off with a sharp stare, the corners of his mouth in a pained scowl - WIP, Minrathous. “Cole, sweetie, put down your weapons. He is a friend.” - WIP, In Sacrifice, Glory - Chapter 16 Cullen could feel the full and heavy pounding of his heart, and for the first time in a week, his chest did not echo with dread but instead with fervent hope. - WIP, In Sacrifice, Glory - Chapter 17

Her breath caught in her throat, her body trembling under his touch, which grew bolder with each minute. He was encouraged by her earnest reactions and how she had allowed him to take what little control he knew he had. - WIP, In Sacrifice, Glory - Chapter 16

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Gently tagging @jenn2d2 @rookamell @cocoboots @woundedsoul12 @gingervitus @davrinsleftpectoral @hedwigoprah @ofcrowsanddragons I will give the same words as I had, choose any three/or as many as you want! - scowl, sweet, echo, tremble, alight, previous