#ever try to draw caius

[falmerbrook]

New TES OC’s???!???!??!

*puts head in hands* Tell me all about them!

EEEEEE I'm glad someone wants to hear about them!!!! Well, they aren't necessarily new, but I haven't talked about most of them here for the most part so they are to most of you :D

Also, little disclaimer, I'm the type to make a whole cast (family, friends, distant cousins, etc.) for like every character I make, so I'll just introduce the major ones.

(also I'll put it under the cut to not clog dashes)

Morrowind

Stellar (Nerevarine)

My Nerevarine. Argonian. 19 years old at the time of the game. Was hatched and grew up in slavery in eastern Vvardenfell before escaping and running away to Cyrodiil when he was about 11 (where he eventually got his name, and tried his best to assimilate and lose his Morrowind-isms). There he settled in a little gang of thieves in the Imperial City, where he eventually went to jail (long term) after he accidently killed a guy. From there he gets sent to Vvardenfell and [PLOT OF MORROWIND]. For obvious reasons he is not happy about that, and only goes along with Caius's schemes so he can get the money to go to Black Marsh. He has the classic teenage boy-ism of acting very hard, aggressive, apathetic, and mean to mask a more genuine curiosity, desire for adventure, and care for others. So while he'd never admit it, he gets very invested in all the mystery around the Nerevarine prophecies. When he eventually does get to Black Marsh, he finds himself equally not welcomed there, and instead accepts his place as the (potential) Nerevarine, returning to Vvardenfell.

I think he's the only character that I've ever gone through a proper deign process with so I'm very proud of his design (even though I'm still struggling to draw it accurately).

Ramshuribani (Stellar's friend/love interest)

22 year old Ashlander of the Urshilaku tribe/Nerevarine Cult. She specializes in textiles, leather working, and making clothing. After Stellar arrives at the tribe and starts hanging around to earn their good graces, she's the first to take an interest in him. She finds his seeming delusions and his earnestness endearing, but eventually becomes the first to take him seriously, becoming his biggest cheerleader and urging him forward in his journey. When Stellar goes around trying to become the Nerevarine and Hortator, she tags along with him and they bond.

Moss/Sleeps-in-Moss (Stellar's friend/love interest)

One of Stellar's childhood friends. 18 year old argonian. As a young teen when he had the chance to flee to Black Marsh, he decided to remain in Vvardenfell and work with the Twin Lamps to help others escape slavery. While at first thrilled to run back into Stellar and learn he was ok, he's put off and frustrated by Stellar essentially being a pawn of the Empire and Ashlanders, and thinks all the Nerevarine bs is just a way to manipulate him.

Skyrim

Elisere Vaelenwyn Faerendal (Last Dragonborn)

21 year old altmer with snow elf ancestry on her mother and grandmother's sides (thus her pale complexion). While most of her family doesn't share her zeal, her and her grandmother are both very passionate about learning and trying to connect with the snow elf history and culture. Her grandmother is a researcher on the topic. She has a very intense personality, but is also sort of a prissy asshole.

So I really like the interpretation of being dragonborn being a sort of allegory for neurodivergence (but more specifically autism/adhd because I have experience with the former) and so I lean into it a lot with her. She struggled a lot growing up and into adulthood with always feeling like she needed to be in complete control/order, black and white thinking, poor socialization skills, and general anger and violence issues. While she tried to pursue an education focusing on destruction magic at a prestigious university, she struggled with control of her magic and felt restricted there. All of this, living in a place with heavy thalmor propaganda, and her passion for the snow elves led to her developing very extreme xenophobic views of humans (particularly nords).

When Elisere's mother and grandmother died in very close proximity to each other, El doesn't really know how to deal with it (losing her family and the two people she felt like she had left of her lost culture) and so she decided to go scorched earth and drops her whole life and head to Skyrim to do... something drastic (she didn't think that far ahead). Once arriving there [SKYRIM INTRO] happens and it slaps a bit of sense into her. Irregardless, she decides to stay in Skyrim. While in Skyrim, over time, she realizes 1) she's dragonborn (worst thing that could happen to her ever), and 2) it might be a better cultural landscape for her. Character development happens (I'm leaving it here for now bc I'm tired and I don't want to seem like I'm rambling, but she's my problematic child whom i love)

Helga Saber-Skin (Eliere's companion? adopted mom? friend??)

Nord woman in her late 60s. Looks at Elisere and goes "I can fix her" [motherly]. A very classic born-and-bred Nord; loud, confident, friendly, and proud. She and her late husband fought in the Great War, moving to Haafingar and raising 4 kids afterwards (I'm still foggy on that timeline though). Generally anti-Imperial and pro-Stormclaok (although willfully ignorant to the Stormcloak's less-noble beliefs), becoming very pro-Stormcloak after her husband was killed by an Imperial soldier and she feels pressured to move out to Eastmarch. As a widowed empty-nester, when she stumbles upon a very injured Elisere, she takes her in and upon hearing El vent, realizes that Elisere probably just needs a surrogate mother figure in her life, and eagerly tries to fill that void and support her while she's in Skyrim and on her journey. This is not something Elisere wants, but if Helga is anything it's stubborn (and it's probably something Elisere needs). They make each other more open minded.

Oblivion

Morvyn (Hero of Kvatch)

Mid to late 20s dunmer (they/she/he btw). Grew up in Ald'ruhn to a single abusive, unstable mother, which led to them running away as a teen and ending up Cyrodiil struggling to get by. They have intense anxiety from their upbringing, and struggle with psychologically-induced selective mutism. They almost never speak, and use sign-language to communicate (when they can. most people don't know it. this just contributes to their asociality and anxiety). They're sensitive, nervous, and a people pleaser, but also very resilient, selfless (to a self destructive degree),a nd empathetic. Their desire to help others is often the only thing to override their other issues. They are a jack-of-all-trades, master of none, and can pick up new skills pretty easily (but struggle to get very good at them). They initially bond with Martin through their shared experiences of being bastards. They're kinda greasy.

I have another major Oblivion character but she's real underdeveloped and needs more time in the oven. Too much brain power goes into morrowind and skyrim, sorry oblivion.

.

Saori

I've already talked about her before (this post) but I will mention her again. My necromancin' ecologist child :D. She kinda exists outside the realm of the games but she meets and becomes acquaintances/friends with Elisere and Stellar.

[vintageseawitch]

if there are any twilight book sequels written then published, i promise to look up spoilers because if i find out the Volturi decide to create hybrids of their own (🤢🤮) then i will refuse to read let alone own them. as curious as Aro may be about it, it's horrendous that he would try it out himself. the creation of hybrids is legitimately terrifying body horror to me & even Aro's "indifference" towards humans doesn't automatically make him a psychopath about this sort of thing.

Aro, despite his penchant for ruthlessness, is a softie, too. i like to imagine the thought of putting a uterus-owner through such a specific & horrific form of torture fills him with revulsion & guilt. yes, humans are red-eyed vampires' food, but even humans get disturbed at the thought of animals they consume going through needless pain especially for selfish reasons.

at this point the canon of this silly franchise means approximately shit to me so if smeyers decides to make her refined, considerably more interesting clan of vampires into true monsters, she can fuck right off because they deserve better than that. they're not villains simply because they're doing what is natural to them & the Cullens are a creepier cult than the Volturi will ever be. at least everyone knows that the three kings are dangerous. the Cullens are too busy being gentrified hypocrites (completely beige & lacking a good, old-fashioned dungeon & set of coffins... the dark drama is what draws us to vampires in the first place & someone like Forever Emo Teenager McWalking Red Flag scoffs at such things like a good little boring creeper on top of them actually not giving a damn about humans considering how in midnight sun it's clear they wouldn't have batted an eye at killing bella because said little boring creeper - or the prodigal son 🙄 - can barely control himself around her like it's her problem to deal with. glob i hate that & his losing control around her would make their "lives" a Little Bit Uncomfortable lmao) with Whatever The Fuck Weird Dynamic they have going on.

if anyone would be cruel anyways, it would be Caius out of the three kings, but i refuse to believe even he would go that far. a part of it is the thought of needing to be close to a human like that would disgust him but another is at least when they feed it's quick. if anyone is to endure a terribly long torture it would be Nahuel's biological father because he's a real monster. like, yes, somehow the Volturi never found out about hybrids, but they never went & tried to find out what would happen themselves.

i like to think the more the three kings researched it the more horrified they would be, but that could just be my biases & preferences showing. bella & edward's daughter displays disturbingly similar compulsory "abilities" or however one would describe them like Immortal Children because everyone's sudden pull to her after she touched them is WAY too similar to the enchantment vampires experience around the latter type of child so i think the Volturi (especially Jane) would be weirded out by that connection considering how long they've studied them.

i'm not saying every hybrid is like bella & edward's kid, but i'm pretty sure Aro noticed that neither she nor the rest of the family really like or trust the Volturi that much PLUS the Romanians are some of her favorite vamps. pretty sure that has put the Volturi on their guard (so to speak) (also Carlisle what the FUCK why are you being so weird about the Volturi. why tf does edward have his stupid attitude about them whyyyy make them your enemy especially considering the drama in new moon & eddie blatantly disrespecting the ancient group by expecting them to be Suicide Assistance as though that's what they're there for & have nothing better to do & Aro doing you a MASSIVE favor). ya know, as pretty as he's portrayed in the movies, i'm liking him as a character less & less (he's the biggest hypocrite of them all & playing a dangerous game of delusions - like hun, sorry, but no matter how much you pretend, you are not a human any longer & maybe you don't realize it (or WANT to) but you totally think you're better than humans seeing as you bend their rules especially if it's for your extremely problematic red-headed "son" - but THEN AGAIN you're certainly good at wiping out local wildlife like big predators so maybe you're more like humans than you think & i mean that as a slur).

i totally get derailed in my little rants on here & i'm only a little bit embarrased since this is pretty much how my brain works & how i talk lmao so tl;dr if the Volturi become the worst kind of monsters in future books when it comes to hybrids (aka "making their own" 🤢🤢🤢🤮🤮🤮), smeyers can fuck right off some more & the Cullens & their creepy cult & creepier hybrid kid are the worst. i still like Emmett though even if he chooses to stick around the problematic bunch (pretty sure Carlisle has a gift as well; it's amazing that so many vampires are not only able to live with each other peacefully but rigidly stick to a diet that is unnatural to their kind - a kind of creature that follows their instincts above almost most things. oh Carlisle, you certainly transferred your wild need to repress almost too exceedingly well).

[freyayuki]

Dissidia Final Fantasy: Opera Omnia Caius Ballad and Yda Hext Banner

The Heartless Gaze event just started in the Dissidia Final Fantasy: Opera Omnia (DFFOO) mobile game. This event came with 1 banner.

Heartless Gaze Banner

The Heartless Gaze banner features the following chars and their weapons:

Caius Ballad from Final Fantasy XIII-2 - Burst or BT only

Yda Hext from Final Fantasy XIV - 15cp, 35cp, Ex, and LD

Penelo from Final Fantasy XII - 15cp, 35cp, Ex, and LD

Rydia from Final Fantasy IV - 15cp, 35cp, and Ex

Have everything on this banner except for Yda’s LD so was very reluctant to use gems here.

If I was still missing Caius’s BT, would have been more inclined to gem this banner since I heard he could be of use in some of the quests in Dimensions’ End: Transcendence Tier 6.

Thoughts about Yda Hext from Final Fantasy XIV

The best thing to do was likely to just skip the Heartless Gaze banner entirely. Yda Hext from Final Fantasy XIV is pretty good but, in the end, she’s mostly just yet another DPS.

However, I was actually kinda interested in her because I wanted to try out the so-called “YdaRoth” cheese strat.

This is a no-boss turns strat that involves Yda and Sephiroth from Final Fantasy VII (#ad).

Ever since I got Sephiroth’s LD and BT, I’ve been trying to run him through all the Lufenia (level 200) and Lufenia+ (level 250) quests we’ve had so far.

My Sephiroth is fully built and maxed out with his 15cp, 35cp, Ex, LD, and BT all fully MLB’d. He has his High Armor and it’s been upgraded to Blue.

He’s Level 80 and Crystal Level 80. He has his Bloom Stone, triple real Spheres, and triple perfect Artifacts. All of his Summon Boards and Character Enhancement Boards have been completed.

But although it’s true that I wanted to try out the YdaRoth strat, it was also true that I don’t actually need Yda.

Sephi’s been powercrept by now but so far, I’ve successfully been able to run him through multiple Lufenia and Lufenia+ fights. I talk more about these quests in other posts.

It feels like I don’t really need Yda to be able to keep using Seph in endgame content.

Heartless Gaze Banner Free First Multi-Draw Results

Still, I thought I’d try my luck with tickets anyway. But before that - thanks to the currently ongoing winter campaign, we get a free multi-draw on the Heartless Gaze banner.

Unfortunately, all I got from that free pull was a dupe of Rydia’s 35cp. Meh.

Heartless Gaze Banner Tickets Pulls Results

Currently have 473 tickets on hand. Here’s to hoping that Yda won’t take all of them. Have other banners I want to use them on, and they’re all coming soon so, yeah, gonna need more tickets. LOL.

As always, got the usual bronze and silver trash and gold dupes. Sometimes, I’d even get 10-draws that didn’t have a single gold, which really sucked.

Then, a bit later on, got a gold orb. This turned out to be 1 really awesome orb because it gave me 4 golds.

3 of them were nothing more than dupes of Penelo’s 15cp, Penelo’s 35cp, and Yda’s 35cp. But the fourth item turned out to be -

My very first copy of Yda’s LD! Hell, yes! So happy to see this.

Was down to 393 tickets when Yda’s LD finally came home. Glad she didn’t take all of my tickets.

Yda Hext from Final Fantasy XIV

Prior to the appearance of the Heartless Gaze banner that featured Yda’s LD, my Yda’s 15cp, 35cp, and Ex were already fully MLB.

Her Ex was at Ex+ 0/3 only though and she only had a few of her Summon Boards completed.

She also already has her Bloom Stone and, to my surprise, I’d apparently already farmed for her perfect Artifacts from before.

Now that I have Yda’s LD, Purpled her Ex or got it to Ex+ 3/3. Finished the rest of her Summon Boards. Bought her Bloom Stone.

Got her High Armor and upgraded it to 0/3. Equipped her with triple RF Spheres. Finished her LD Board but chose to ignore the rest of her Char Boards for now.

If the points needed to unlock these Boards weren’t so scarce, I’d gladly spend them on all my chars but, as it is, really need to be more selective with this.

Didn’t really think I’d be using Yda that much anyway and it seemed like her LD Board was the most important so decided to just focus on that for now.

Conclusion

So, what about you? Did you pull on the Heartless Gaze banner? What do you think about Yda Hext, Caius Ballad, and all the other chars featured on this banner? Feel free to share your thoughts and opinions by leaving a comment below or by reblogging or replying to this post.

Notes:

screenshots are from my Dissidia Final Fantasy: Opera Omnia game account

[zzinvolterra]

grey hairs courtesy of aro

[superhero--imagines]

A/N: it’s almost over! My editors are still going through the book so there are no production updates this week for anyone who bought the book. If you’re interested the digital version is still on sale at my store!

Part 1 Here! / Part 2 Here! / Part 3 Here! / Part 4 Here! / Part 5 Here! / Part 6 Here! / Part 7 Here! / Part 8 Here! / Part 9 Here! / Part 10 Here! / Part 11 Here! / Part 12 Here! / Part 13 Here! / Part 14 Here! / Part 15 Here! / Part 16 Here! / Part 17 Here! / Part 18 Here! / Part 19 Here!/ Part 20 Here!/ His POV Part 1! Here /  His POV Part 2 Here!  / Part 21 Here! / Part 22 Here! / Random Headcanons / Part 23 Here! / Part 24 Here! / Part 25 Here! Part 26 Here ! / Part 27 Here! / Part 28 Here!/ Part 29 Here! / Part 30 Here! / Part 31 Here! / Part 32 Here! / Part 33 Here! / Part 34 Here! / Part 35 Here! / Part 36 Here! / Part 37 Here! <This is Part 38!>

* Out of all of the plans you’ve seen—

* You draw your hood up further, walking down the dim corridors you frequented so often with Alec over a decade ago.

* —This one has to be the worst

* Your feet bounce against the floor as you peak over the corner, before descending down a hallway

* Marcus’s plan was simple enough, he would a distraction, while Edward incapacitated Chelsea.

* “Once she’s immobile for a while, the collective haze will vanish, they’ll be disoriented for a moment, and that’s where (Y/N) comes in.” He pointed to map showing you exactly the hallways you would have to take to reach the throne room, and be their secret weapon to incapacitate Aro and Caius

* It’s just too bad you’re terrible with directions and got lost.

* You pass down another hallway huffing when it leads to a dead end.

* Your running now, only stilling when you see a large portrait half covered, on it is the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen.

* She has long blond hair that passes her shoulders, and pink undertone skin. But what’s most eye catching is that one of her eyes is red and the other is gold

* That’s Didyme

* Even though there’s no signature or plaque, you know it to be true. You swallow, feeling humble in her presence.

* “Hey,” your voice is no louder than a whisper. “I’m about to go raise some hell.” You grin.

* “I’ll try to punch Aro in the face, one time just for you.”

* And then you’re taking off down the hallway again, you sigh when you see a string of torch lights

* You recognize this wing of the castle

* Twi guards come into view, standing gaurd in front of a large set of doors

* “Hault! I don’t think I’ve—“ the gaurd stops mid-sentence, a dazzled look in his eyes

* Looks like Edward took care of Chelsea

* You push past them blinded by the light in the throne room, when your eyes adjust the sigh before you has your heart plummeting to your stomach

* In the throne room is Edward, in a vicious headlock, a second from having relic rip his head off

* Aro and Caius watching with glee

* You’re not sure what happens, you hear a scream in the distance, but every single ounce of despair you’ve bottled inside releases in that moment.

* The room is covered in your blue hue, and you crumple to the ground.

* You don’t want to live in a world without Edward

* You can’t

* If he’s not here…

* ‘Maybe I should just tear this world apart and build a new one.’ You think. ‘A place where there’s no vampires, where someone like Aro could never hurt anyone ever again.’

* You’re so caught in your despair you don’t notice that everyone’s incapacitated around you, sputtering as they try to make sense of what’s happening

* It’s not until you feel his hand over yours.

* You open your eyes to see Edward’s familiar pale hand pressed over yours.

* “It’s okay, you’re okay.” He whispers, giving you the faintest of squeezes.

* “Don’t be sad, it’s the worst feeling in the world when I know you’re in pain.”

* Ever so slowly the blue hue creeps away from the room, retracting inside you once again

* You stroke his cheek with your finger.

* “Sorry.” You murmur. Around you everyone is writhing in agony on the floor

* Well it makes your job easier.

* You move to get up, when you see someone pass by you.

* “Marcus?”

* He doesn’t seem the least bit affected by your emotions, brushing away venom from the corner of his eye.

* “Sorry, but I’ve felt worse.”

* He walks forward, silver glinting in his hand

* Is that…?

* “Marcus what are you doing with a syringe of the cure.”

* “I’m going to turn Aro into the thing he hates most in the world,” Marcus sneers as he lifts Aro’s face to meet his.

* “A human.”

* He drops his face letting it hit the floor with a thud.

* “And then I’m going to kill him.”

* You scramble up, racing to stop him, but it’s too late the syringe is injected into his arm.

* You’re only able to stop him when Marcus is about to wrap his hands around Aro’s neck

* “No Marcus this isn’t what agreed on. You said we were just going to incapacitate him.”

* “I know you’re optimistic (Y/N), but there will never be a peaceful world as long he exists in it.”

* You’re so busy arguing that you don’t realize Aro’s gathered his bearings, that his eyes are pointed to the syringe lying in the floor, the smallest amount still left in the vial

* You don’t notice Aro grasping the device

* Only realizing what’s happening when he stands up, the instrument trained on you.

* You close your eyes, bracing yourself for the pain that will inevitably come, but it never does

* You hesitantly open your eyes, only to see the syringe isn’t in you, it’s poking out of Edward’s back, his body acting as a shield.

* His arms wrap around you, in one final embrace. He whispers: “Sorry.” Before collapsing onto the floor.

Tag list: @moonlights27 @thebluetint @the100thtwilight @awesomebooklover17 @oneofthepotterheads @imdoingathingmom @yrawn @alyciaswhore @little-horror-show @wicked-watering-can @lazydreamers @ideas-for-you-to-adopt @moose-squirrel-asstiel @hotmessgoodness @jaimewho21 @what-am-i-doing10 @anotheryooniverse @emmettcullenisahimbo @my-super-musical-life @smolvampiregirl @it-was-all-a-beautiful-dream @mihikaahujaaa @reclusive-chicken-nugget @monkeyluver4546 @wonhomarshmallow @bwbatta @bubblyabs @thatwaspossesion @helzerat @parascape @katrodriguez99 @leilanixx @kiki-ren @winxanity-ii @dontletyourmemebedreams @hazeofeleven @whatafreakingloser @lightsupdoyouknowwhoyouare

[volterran-wine]

Caius the artist, headcanons

At some point a couple of months ago, in every Volturi fanfic I read; Caius was depicted as an artist. And this was such a common thing I thought for sure this had to be hinted at in canon... somewhere. But no. The fandom collectively decided Caius is an artist and pretty much decorated all of Volterra and it stuck. I ate that shit up. And as a bit of a pretentious art nerd and artist myself, I had to write these headcanons about our dear king with a love for art. 

Headcanons below because this might get long.

Caius’ true passion for the arts started after his encounter with the children of the moon.

I always imagined that Caius got proper beat up and barely escaped with his life. When he was dragged home to Volterra it was with quite a few injuries that put him out of commission for a bit. 

Now you can only pass so much time planning how to annihilate an entire species when you don't have to sleep so Caius was growing bored, restless and irritable

I imagine that at everyone’s behest Aro tried his best to find a new hobby for his brother. His efforts resulted in art supplies mysteriously appearing in Caius’ quarters one morning. 

Caius was not amused.

After spending a good couple of hours simply ignoring the supplies he did decide to give it a try. There was nothing else to do either way.

Art ended up being one of the greatest loves of his immortal life. 

Anyone who has ever seriously tried to paint knows how chaotic it can be. The sheer amount of stress and emotion that goes into it is purely unique. I think Caius would find great enjoyment in mastering the skill.

He has multiple art rooms that house his various artworks, half of the Palazzo’s art collection is Caius but is marked as anonymous. 

He is partial to highly detailed landscapes and portraits. There is a fascination for motives that depict beautiful, haunting and macabre things in life.

There is an entire wall dedicated to paintings of the Volturi’s victories through the years. Also there is multiple works depicting him hunting down children of the moon. 

While mastering various mediums over the years such as charcoal, watercolor, sculpting and drawing; he has a soft spot for oils. 

Nobody gets to go into his art studio without his strict permission. Aro and Marcus have been in there a total of 10 times. 

Has probably had artistic beef with a multitude of human artists that have been heralded as geniuses through the ages. 

These days Caius paints at a much more leisurely pace, ever trying to perfect his techniques. 

Yes, he would paint his mate with the uttermost care, passion and love. Those paintings are reserved for his and his mate’s eyes only. 

Bonus: While usually being able to respect all art forms, and growing a certain admiration for modern art. He still gets the urge to pull his hair out whenever he sees a photo of that banana duct-taped to a wall (an art installation by Italian artist Maurizio Cattelan that sold for 120k dollars).

That... ended up longer than I intended? Yet I have more thoughts about this. Part 2? any requests? 

[thatfanficstuff]

Her Three Kings - Chapter 25

A Volturi Kings x OFC story

Warnings: angsty, otherwise nope.

A/N: It only gets worse from here. So sorry.

dividers by firefly-graphics

Liliana Montgomery Cullen Volturi was bored out of her ever-loving mind. Usually she managed to entertain herself but she wanted interaction with another person and none were to be had. The kings were hearing a rather lengthy petition from one of the Chinese covens. As she didn’t speak any Chinese let alone their specific dialect, there wasn’t much point for her to be in attendance. The Cullens were all either at work or school and the guard was either on duty or training. Well, nothing said they couldn’t do their job in her company.

She sighed and left her office to find whichever of her personal guard was on duty for the day. When she spotted Demetri standing guard at the bottom of the steps, she grinned. “Hey, Demi.”

He glanced at her with a smile and a small bow. “Good day, Mistress. How may I be of assistance?”

She rolled her eyes but refrained from saying anything about the title. “Do you want to play a video game with me?”

“I don’t believe so, but thank you for the invitation.” He turned away from her without so much as a blink.

Irritation flitted through her with his odd behavior and she frowned. “We could do something else. Watch a movie, sit and talk, whatever.”

His smile was tight when he turned back to her. “No, thank you, Mistress. I’m on duty and shouldn’t leave my post.”

“What the actual fuck is wrong with you, Demetri Volturi?”

His eyes grew wide as he blinked in disbelief. “Pardon?”

“No. I don’t believe I will.” She turned and stomped her way up the stairs. What the hell was wrong with everyone? It was fine if they didn’t want to spend time with her, she wouldn’t force them. But for Demetri to pass up doing literally anything other than guarding the stairs? That wasn’t like him at all.

She screamed in frustration as she stormed into her room and immediately began breaking anything she considered disposable. With everything she’d been through in the past several months, she figured she was due a tantrum. Gods knew Caius had them often enough. While she felt moderately better after her streak of destruction, she was still angry. Irritated. Devastated.

What had she done to make everyone act so differently? Had she broken some unknown rule or had they all just finally grown tired of her personality? She was obviously the youngest one in the castle. Was she just too immature for them? No, that wasn’t it. She knew that but she was just desperately trying to find a reason. Maybe there wasn’t one. And if that was the case, it meant there was nothing she could fix.

Without much thought she made her way to the studio and placed a large sketch pad on the easel. Grabbing her charcoal, she sketched and blended and poured her frustration, her agony, onto the page. The drawing was finished remarkably fast. While it was cathartic, it did little to ease her anger. She placed a blank canvas over the paper. Using a thick brush, she scooped black paint onto the bristles and made wide strokes on the once pristine surface. Every swipe left dark devastation behind it and eased some of the ache in her chest.

It wasn’t until she heard her mates in the outer room that she stopped. As she took in her creation, tears flooded her eyes. She swiped them away and dropped her brush in the cleaner. She pulled the arms down on the sides of her easel and threw a drop cloth over the top to hide the painting. It was too raw, too personal.

She stood and watched them for a moment as they poured themselves a drink and settled around the room. They looked tired which was ironic for a species that didn’t sleep. She leaned against the wall, her gaze moving between them as they sat in silence. She kept debating between continuing on as things were or telling them everything that had been happening. Her main concern was that they would order people to be her friend or that they would think they otherwise needed to fix things. She just wanted to talk to them and get their opinion. Maybe they had an insight that she couldn’t see.

“Are you intending to just stand there forever, Liliana?” Marcus’ dulcet tones snapped her from her thoughts and she made her way to where they sat.

She chewed on the end of her thumb as she paced the floor in front of them.

“You are making me dizzy,” Caius said after several minutes.

She turned then to face them. “I need to talk to you about some things that have been going on.”

That caught their attention. Aro narrowed his gaze. “That makes it sound as if it’s been ongoing for quite a while.”

“It has.”

“And you’re just now telling us?” Caius asked.

Marcus sighed. “We don’t even know what she intends to tell us. Calm yourselves.”

“Things have changed. My relationships with people have changed. People I thought were my friends don’t want to spend time with me anymore.” She paused and bit her lip before continuing. “Or they get irritated with me for no reason.”

The other brothers glanced at Marcus who sighed again. “It’s true. Her bonds have weakened with nearly everyone. Including us.” His focus shifted to her. “Though that is mostly your doing. It all may be.”

Lily felt like she’d been punched in the chest. “What?” Her voice came out quiet, weak.

“Well, what did you expect, Lily?” Caius snapped. “The common denominator in all those bonds is you. Obviously you’re somehow the cause. Did you think everyone in the castle suddenly decided you weren’t worth their time?”

“Yes! That’s exactly what I thought because that’s what happened. I don’t see how you can blame me for any of this.” This was certainly not the way she had thought this conversation would go.

Marcus raked a hand through his hair before dropping his head into his hands. “The only conclusion I can come to is that your constant blocking of the bonds is weakening them. I have asked you repeatedly not to do it yet you persist. Is it any wonder it would affect our connection?”

Now, even Marcus was against her. Her gaze found Aro to see him watching them all with dark eyes and a grim expression. “I’m not blocking the bonds, Marcus. I only blocked my emotions flowing through them. It wouldn’t affect the integrity of the bond.”

“You can’t know that,” Caius argued. “It’s not as if we’ve ever encountered anyone with your power before.”

Lily huffed out a breath and grasped her hair in both hands. She gave a little scream of frustration. “I blocked the bonds themselves for seven years and our connection was still strong.”

“Then what did you do?” Aro suddenly asked, his voice quiet. “What have you done to all of us?”

The pain in his words had tears pooling in her own eyes. She tossed her hands up in frustration before storming off to her rooms. She needed some space before she said something she couldn’t take back.

The brothers sat in silence for several minutes after their mate walked off, all lost in their own thoughts. They weren’t stupid. Regardless of their mate’s unwillingness to talk about it, they’d noticed the changes. Marcus knew the moment she’d put the block on their bond, but frankly he was tired of having to constantly ask her not to shut them out.

Likewise, Aro knew that she was keeping memories from him. He couldn’t sense the block but he could see the empty spaces in her day. But if she didn’t want to share, he wouldn’t force her. And Caius…well, all he knew was that her light had dimmed and he hated it. They’d shared their worries with each other and had come to the conclusion that Lily was the center of whatever was happening.

“Are we wrong?” Caius asked.

Marcus leaned back and shook his head. “I don’t see how we can be. It has to be something to do with the effect she has on the bonds. It’s not just us. It’s literally every bond she has save one. She must be the origin.”

“Save one?” Aro asked, jealousy woven in his words.

Marcus hummed in agreement. “I suspected it was her bond with Jasper Whitlock. That was confirmed yesterday when they were on the phone. Their bond is as bright as ever.”

Caius’ frown deepened. “What’s different with him?”

“I don’t know and I have a feeling if we asked her, she wouldn’t either.” Marcus pinched the bridge of his nose as if to stave off the headache that would never form. “I don’t know how to fix this.”

“For now, give her time. She will come to us eventually,” Aro said sounding far more sure than either of his brothers felt.

“So how long are you going to keep hiding in your rooms?” Sebastian asked. “Not that I care, but we’re beginning to get dirty looks from the kings when we enter your rooms.”

Lily shrugged. The guards had been her only companions for the last three days. Sebastian and Jane more than the others. At the moment, all five of them were lounging around her theater room talking while a movie played in the background. “They know where I am if they want to talk to me. It’s not as if I refused them.”

“What is this fight about anyway?” Jane asked before taking a sip of her smoothie.

Lily shook her head. “They blamed me for something that’s not my fault is all.”

“Couldn’t Aro just read you?” Demetri asked with a frown.

She cleared her throat as she felt tears welling up. “I don’t think they trust me because of my block.”

There was a long stretch of silence before Sebastian broke it. “But you’re their mate.”

She merely hummed in agreement and turned back to the screen with feigned interest. The guards exchanged a look but said nothing further on the topic. At least not to her.

Lily was making her way through the castle at human speed. It was the first time she’d been out of her rooms in a week. Her presence had been requested for a trial. When she arrived in the throne room, she was surprised and slightly disappointed to find a throne of her own in place. It sat between Caius and Aro, though she supposed when things got back to normal she could switch with Aro if she wanted to be near Marcus. All the thrones looked the same after all. She sat the trial, cast her vote, then left without a word to her mates.

“How much longer do you anticipate this silent treatment lasting?” Aro asked from behind her.

She stopped and turned to face him. Unsurprisingly, the other two accompanied him as well. “As far as I am aware, my room has not moved. You could have come at any time.”

Marcus smiled. “We thought it best to give you some space.”

“Your actions in the throne room were childish,” Caius snapped.

Both of his brothers sighed and Lily had to bite her lip to keep the smile from her face. Instead, she shook her head and rolled her eyes. She turned from them to continue her journey only to find herself with her back pressed against the wall. Caius’ hand held her chin as he scowled at her. “What have I told you about rolling your eyes at me, little one?”

“Have I mentioned that I absolutely do not give a fuck?” She shoved him and he stumbled away from her. “Still a newborn. Still stronger than you.”

She continued toward their rooms and when Caius moved to follow, Aro’s hand on his shoulder stopped him. “Don’t do something you’ll regret, brother. She’s not worth it.”

Marcus went absolutely still. “What did you say?”

Aro glanced to him with an arched brow. “Don’t do something you’ll regret, it’s not worth it.” The words lifted in question at the end as he didn’t see what the issue was.

Caius shrugged off his brother’s touch and the three of them made their way to their offices, giving their queen more time. And giving themselves more time to contemplate a way to fix this mess.

[therealvinelle]

What if the entire human cast were turned into vampires? (those who stay human throughout the saga)

Well, the first question we must ask ourselves, is who’s turning them? Who would do such a thing?

It’s a very stupid thing to do, after all, and a surefire way to earn yourself a visit from the Volturi.

Now, who in the post-Breaking Dawn world would want to turn all the humans near the Cullens into vampires, ensuring another confrontation between the Cullens and the Volturi?

Answer is, drumroll-

The Romanians.

As of Breaking Dawn, the Volturi are extremely vulnerable. Jane, Alec, even Chelsea have all been neutered. Renata is Schrödinger’s shield. She might work, might not. The more time they’re given to regroup after this, however, the worse news for their would-be usurpers.

Now is the time for a rebellion, but there’s no rebellion without Bella. Bella, unfortunately, is in a coven led by ultimate pacifist Carlisle, and Carlisle isn’t going to greenlight storming Volterra with an army. It’s time to get creative.

This could go many places, but the path of a biting spree in Forks and La Push is certainly one of them.

So, Vladimir and Stefan bite the entire human cast, and open Pandora’s box.

One of the first things to happen, I think, is that Billy, Quil senior, Emily, Kim, and Rachel are killed, maybe even before their transformations can complete. They would not want to live as vampires, to them vampirism is a fate worse than death. A mercy killing before they can hurt anybody would be the only way out.

As for the rest...

This would break the secret.

In this globalized age of internet, viral videos, and live TV, several hundred people all falling mysteriously ill with the same inexplicable symptoms, screaming and begging for death for days, slowly turning into something else as baffled doctors watch, before becoming massacring demons that tear the hospitals they’re in to pieces within minutes and proceed into the streets, killing everything in sight-

Aro hasn’t had a headache like this since ever.

This doesn’t even have to do with the Cullens anymore, though they’ll have to testify that they had nothing to do with this. Caius will be out for blood, though, any blood, and his ire will fall upon them.

This, of course, is the part the Romanians did it all for, because everyone knows that the Volturi are corrupt and would execute them regardless of guilt, so the Cullens will have to bring a new set of witnesses to this confrontation. And this time, of course, the Volturi are showing up to get massacred. Stefan and Vladimir high five each other.

And this time the odds are entirely in their favor.

In Breaking Dawn, standing by the Cullens was a suicide mission. No one knew Bella would be able to pull off what she did, none of the arrivals even knew she even had a gift when they agreed to come. Carlisle gathered only his bravest and most devoted friends.

In this scenario, now that everyone knows Bella’s gift neuters the Volturi, every single vampire who’s ever wanted the Volturi gone are going to want to be there. From random nomads to Maria with her newborns, everyone who’s anybody is going to want to be there, and they’re likely already squabbling over who gets to be top dog as soon as Aro’s a pile ashes.

And Aro can’t avoid this.

He can’t barricade himself in Volterra because there are hundreds of newborns loose in Washington. If he does nothing this will mean that the Volturi rule is officially void. They can’t enforce their law anymore, they may be alive down there in Italy but the era of the Volturi is over in all the ways that count.

If he goes to Washington, he can’t avoid the Cullens for the same reason as above. If he doesn’t collect their testimony to ascertain their innocence it’ll mean they’re now above the law, which in turn means that the Volturi don’t have the strength to punish them.

He has to go to Washington, and he has to deal with the Cullens.

Now, Carlisle may think the best of everyone, but even he would know the plot of the movie 300 when he sees it. The Romanians showed up at his doorstep, they totally didn’t create all those vampires wink, oh and here are eighty thug vampires who are already drawing straws on who gets to kill which Volturi.

More, what happened in Forks and La Push is only a taste of what’s to come.

Not only are the Volturi needed to help stop this madness, but if they should fall then what happened in Forks and La Push will only be a blip on the radar against the chaos that will be unleashed. It’ll be a genocide of the human species.

And Carlisle will have a culpability in that. The reason why this mass vampire creation tragedy is happened in the first place is precisely to see the Cullens go to war against the Volturi.

Last problem, it would be a massacre of the Volturi. Carlisle is a pacifist who cherishes life, even if it there would be no repercussions to the Volturi falling, forty-something vampires would still be killed.

I think at this point it would be unconscionable for Carlisle to allow this confrontation to happen. Question is, how to prevent it?

I have no doubt that the Romanians would be filling Bella’s head with conspiracy theories and what have you, for starters, explaining how her family will never be safe while Aro lives. It would be effective, even if Bella is told by Carlisle what this means for humans she’s not necessarily going to internalize just how bad that would be. Bella also has the problem that she romanticizes her love for Edward, to the point where she i Eclipse would let his family die if it meant she could keep him. Letting civilization fall to protect her lover would be acceptable to Bella.

More, the Cullens like humans well enough, but they’re not altruistic.

Likely, they would be convinced by the Romanians and the other vampires there that this was a fight for liberty, the human population would be fine, this is really no worse than Heidi fishing 40 people a week, we’re just more honest about it! The Cullens would want to be convinced, because the Volturi are scary and have proven evil in the past. If they’re not overthrowing them, they’re not just agreeing to live in danger, they’re agreeing to be slaughtered. It’s been established, to them, that Aro’s just itching for an excuse to kill them.

Carlisle can make his plea that they fuck off to Isle Esme while he alone stays behind to testify to Aro, so there’s no Bella at the confrontation. They’d refuse both because there’d be nothing stopping Aro from killing their allies and then coming after them when they’re alone, and because there’d be a real chance they were leaving Carlisle to his death.

Besides, with Bella’s gift they can hold the Volturi hostage, act nice or she’ll let these 80 vampires kill them. Nevermind that the vampires would just attack the Volturi anyway, and Bella couldn’t not shield them.

Bella and the rest of the Cullens aren’t going to go along with Carlisle.

Now, if Carlisle were Aro, the hard but effective solution here would be the Didyme route. Kill Bella, one life to spare the many.

Carlisle is not Aro.

What options does he have, then?

He could sneak away to intercept the Volturi, speak with Aro, hope to in some way initiate talks. It’d be a desperate, futile gamble, one where even if he gets Aro to listen it still won’t make their army-shaped problem go away, because Bella will never believe it if Aro says “we’re friends now! No quarrel! I’m definitely not going to kill you at first leisure if you let your army go.”

It’s an empty lead.

I think, given everything, Carlisle would swallow down the bitter taste of irony, call up his old friends whom he can still rely on, such as the Irish and the Amazonians, and ask very nicely if they would - sigh - like to witness that the newest Cullen-Volturi encounter goes over peacefully. The shapeshifters should be on board as well, after what happened to their loved ones and the countless other innocent humans killed or turned, they’ll never forgive the Romanians and not Bella for standing with them either.

So Aro shows up, and there’s Bella and the Romanians with an army of thugs, and there to the side is Carlisle with his tiny squad of witnesses. Who, should a fight break out, will try to defend the Volturi and get themselves killed in the crosshairs.

There’s a long silence.

Everyone is giving Carlisle their most exasperated eyerolls, his own squad included. Carlisle wishes he was rolling his eyes too, but the situation is a bit too serious for that. He just stands there feeling very uncomfortable.

Quite damningly for Bella, if she now allows the fight to happen that means the shapeshifters will be killed. None of the Cullens are particularly keen on the fight now that Carlisle’s likely to die.

Frankly, I think this would be an unbearably awkward encounter where absolutely nobody acknowledges aloud the reason why they’re there, or what was supposed to happen, and act as if it’s a normal trial, for the several first few minutes.

The Romanians know this is it, this is their chance, so right about the time where Aro is saying “How excellent that we’ve established the Cullens didn’t do it! Who, then, could the culprits possibly be?” they launch their attack.

All, at this point, depends on Bella’s reaction. If she keeps up her shield, then a glorious battle occurs, and most if not all Volturi die, the Carlisle squad are also goners, and most if not all of the Romanians’ army die as well.

The thing is, to win the Romanians don’t have to win - they just have to make the Volturi lose. So, even if they’re wiped out, if they can take out the key members of the Volturi then the Volturi will still have lost.

And this is where Aro’s planning enters into the equation.

Would he bring his key players to what was certain to be a slaughter? Would he even come himself?

Is it not perhaps wiser to send the twins, who in a fight without their gifts would be the first and easiest to be killed, to a secret location? Hope that, should the Volturi fall, then they can at least hope to take Bella down with them so that Jane and Alec will be able to keep the world from succumbing to a fiery hellpit?

And Jane and Alec couldn’t do this alone. They’re kids, for one thing. More, there are no men like Aro. His gift and personality both have been how he kept the vampire world under control for over a thousand years. It is a romantic notion to go down with your ship, burn with your empire, but it’s an impractical one. And Aro is nothing if not practical.

If he doesn’t show up to the trial it’ll just be sending his Volturi to be slaughtered, and as I explained above, not going at all isn’t an option either.

I think the twins would be safely whisked away to some faraway place, while Aro arrives with plans for an effective escape for himself and the core members, and as many vampires Chelsea was able to get to redshirt themselves.

This, in turn, means that even if Bella doesn’t use her gift, it’ll still be a slaughter. Alec and Jane aren’t there.

In the scenario where Bella doesn’t use her gift, this forces the Cullens to fight alongside the Carlisle squad and the Volturi. The odds are not so uneven as they originally were. Could be Aro still escapes, or given the tipped balances he could try and luck it out, to increase the odds of his side winning.

There are many outcomes this battle could have, but the Volturi would not escape unscathed from this. No coven would, the fighting would only end when there was only the victor remaining.

I, personally, like the outcome where Carlisle and Aro both survive, and find themselves living with a new world order. The secret is out, the Volturi are a shadow of what they once were, and the Cullens can never live as humans again. The two form a tentative alliance (because at no point has anything been cleared up between them) to keep this new world from descending into interspecies war.

Edward, now a Volturi, wonders where it all went wrong.

(There’s also the outcome where Renesmée joins her grandpa’s squad as a teen rebellion thing, and since no one wants to harm her the fight is cancelled. 

Aro repeats his ramble about nukes and missiles, the vampire community needs him to smooth things over and have Chelsea make all world leaders adore vampires or it’s over for all of them. Carlisle supplies in that poorly scripted random member of the audience says exactly what the magician needs him to way, “Yes absolutely the humans have weapons that can take us out!”

It’s awkward for everybody.)

[wallwriterstuff]

These Violent Delights ||Alec Volturi x Female Reader||

Part 3 of a request for @tiger-khans-blog​

Part 1 - Obsession  Part 2 - When You’re Lost I’ll Leave My Gaslight On 

Warnings: Yandere!Alec, obsessive behaviour, unhealthy relationships and implied non-con later on. This is possibly one of the darkest fics I have ever written so please be aware if controlling behaviour, gaslighting etc. is triggering to you, do not read this fic. 

This fic in particular contains graphic descriptions of violence and injury further down. 

Words: 5543

Summary: With no idea what is and isn’t real anymore you’re beginning to lose your mind and suspect your loving mate isn’t all he seems to be. Desperate for some semblance of sanity you try one last time to clear your head, and the consequences are dire. 

Demetri had suspected that there was something more going on beyond the surface. Y/N Swan was quite a sweet little thing and he had missed her greatly, but he respected her decision – as had Felix – to create some distance between them so she could learn to get along with Alec. Now Demetri was wondering if she’d ever made that decision at all. With increasing frequency Alec had burst into his room or the throne room with the declaration you were missing, and Demetri had immediately put his gift to good use. In almost all the situations Demetri had prepared for the worst, perhaps he’d find you kidnapped or injured somewhere after an outing gone wrong? But every time he’d found you you had been perfectly fine and dreadfully confused as to why he was there at all.

You were always doing quite mundane things. He didn’t even need to track you half the time to tell Alec you were at that little café whose pastries you adored. Sometimes you ventured further out, wanting to see the leaves changing colour in autumn in the park nearby. Other times you were literally right on their doorstep, drawing on the edge of the fountain. On those occasions Demetri stayed with you, letting you have a few minutes more of freedom, because he had started to notice a disturbing pattern – every time he found you you looked more and more lost. You had adamantly refused to accept Alec had not seen your note the first few times, but the doubt slowly crept in until you were entirely unsure of what you had or hadn’t done. Alec was never violent upon your reunion, playing the part of the concerned mate perfectly. He was always so relieved to have you back, but the boy seemed oblivious that you were obviously suffering.

You had lost that spark you used to have in your eyes, and your posture had become more slumped over. You were meeker, agreeing to whatever was put forward to you without question more often than not. Demetri was sure he could tell you the sky was purple and you’d whole heartedly agree, even if the blue was staring you right in the face. Your withdrawn personality didn’t seem to trouble Alec but it bothered him greatly. He wasn’t sure how it had happened but you were a shell of your former self, an anxious, meek little thing who looked nowhere near as happy as she should given she had found her mate. He had caught you in the kitchen once, tired from a day of studying Italian with Marcus as you had become want to do, berating yourself for dropping a pan on your toes while cooking. To say he was surprised to hear your cursing your ‘clumsy human hands’ was an understatement.

No, no Demetri was beyond suspicious, especially when you began to go ‘missing’ more frequently, looking more and more desperate each time he found you further and further out. You had fought him the last time he found you, pounding against his chest and begging him to not take you back. His concern had brought him in all good faith to Alec’s door while you slept one night.

“What can I do for you?” Alec asked, head tilting curiously. Demetri frowned.

“It’s about Y/N. I have some concerns, Alec.” He answered. Alec’s frown immediately depeened, his eyes growing darker.

“What concerns? Is she sick? She seemed fine when I left her to sleep.”

“No, no nothing like that, though I fear her mind may not be healthy. She seems…anxious, desperate to be out of the castle. Is there something going on Alec?” he asked. Alec’s already dark eyes turned black, the red leeching out of his irises so fast Demetri was almost shocked. His expression was cold as an arctic wind and his voice held little room for argument when he answered him.

“That is of no concern to you, she’s shared her worries with me already. You overstep Demetri, she’s my mate and I’ll care for her how I see fit.”

“I simply want to know if there is anything I can do to help. It’s no secret we care for the girl to Alec, let us help.” He frowned.

“What she needs from you, Demetri, is to be left the hell alone. Stop filling her head with poison. I know you talk at the fountain. She’s upset because you suggested she might be allowed to visit her family one day. They haven’t written to her in months, the false hope crushed her. Leave my mate to me and stop poking your nose where it doesn’t belong.” He snarled quietly. Demetri hissed quietly, his irritation flaring.

“What are you talking about? A letter arrived for her Tuesday gone.” He received a door to his face as his answer, the wood actually splintering a little with the force Alec slammed it with. He knew you had been getting letters frequently from the Cullen’s and your sister, he had seen some of them when the secretary was sorting the mail out, so why hadn’t you been getting them? If you were in such a deep spiral surely it was a contributing factor. The only thing he could think of was that the secretary hadn’t delivered them. But why? he flitted straight to her desk without another moment to spare, finding her packing up to leave for the evening. She jumped at his sudden appearance.

“Demetri, I didn’t see you there, how can I help you?” she was a new girl, the fourth one in the past two months, and he didn’t care to remember her name. His head tilted.

“You received a letter the other day for Y/N Swan did you not?” he questioned, leaning against her desk. She frowned, nodding.

“I did, I gave it to Alec to deliver, did it not reach her?” she asked, looking somewhat anxious now. Demetri paused, letting his mind work it over. So, Alec had been supposed to deliver that had he? How many more had he gotten his grubby little hands on? Demetri felt a quiet sense of horror dawn on him. It made a lot more sense suddenly, why you weren’t getting any of your family’s letters. Alec had taken them all to keep you from getting in touch with them. Was your silence towards himself and Felix the same? Orchestrated by Alec so not even you knew the real reason the three of you no longer spoke?

“Not on this occasion. Not to worry, thank you for your help, sweet thing.” He shot her a charming smile to mask his sudden anxiety and disappeared as quickly as he came, heading straight for the throne room. Maybe you hadn’t been going mad at all, maybe Alec was the one driving you insane…

“What is the meaning of this intrusion?” Caius growled, beyond annoyed with the way he had flung the door open in his haste. Demetri grimaced.

“My apologies Masters, but I need to talk to you urgently.”

You had to get out this time. The walls of old buildings scraped at your hands as you bolted down one alleyway after the next, swinging around corners and doing your best to stay upright as the cobblestones did their best to trip you. You couldn’t take it anymore. Your anxiety was at an all time high, panic attacks in the morning a common thing as you dreaded the day ahead – another day of disappointing Alec in all your human imperfection. There was no one you could turn to for comfort either, not with Demetri so busy all the time. He was less of a friend and more of a guard, dragging you back each time you left as Alec had promised you his duty as a guard entailed. The worst part was that you knew your feelings of inadequacy were completely unnecessary because you weren’t the one in the wrong, Alec was.

It had become more and more obvious he wasn’t letting you leave the castle, and sneaking out when you could became your one chance to see sunlight, to have any sort of freedom. When you’d tried to ask him about it he’d brushed you off again, telling you you were being silly and reminding you of all the times he’d taken you out to the Gardens, all the gifts you’d been given as apologies for missed opportunities to venture out into the world…but he’d been lying as long as you’d known him. Maybe he had learned to control his urges, but not his darkest impulses. Alec had wanted you all to himself and he had managed to succeed with his lies and deceit. It had been a complete accident, when you came across the mountain of lies he’d told. You had been waiting to surprise him (having stayed up to wait for him to finish his guard shift) when you spilt a glass of apple juice down your shirt. His closet was the closest place to find a replacement and it would hardly be the first time you’d taken a shirt of his.

The shrine in his closet was just too much.

Everything that had gone missing lay at an alter dedicated to you. Tears blurred your vision as the flash of ivory and familiar, scribbly writing permeated your mind once more. Letters – Bella’s letters. Your sister had never forgotten you. Alec had simply made you think she had. You had been right all along, the bundled-up letters proved as such, he had always been a monster. Selfish and ugly all the way to the core, Alec Volturi had never been your Prince Charming. How many other lies had he told? He’d isolated you until all you had was him, till you relied on him to get you through your day. No more. You tripped over your own feet, vision blurred by tears. The ground rushed up to meet you, a sharp sting ripping through your knee as you cried out, catching yourself with your hands before you could smash your face into the stone. Gasping for air, you tried desperately to fill your lungs, the rising hysteria making it difficult to steady your breathing. What if you couldn’t escape? Demetri always found you and he’d drag you back there, you knew he would. He couldn’t be allowed to find you, not this time, you had to keep moving and –

“Signorina?”

Your head snapped up, body scrambling to right itself despite the deep throbbing in your knee. A young man not too much older than yourself was slowly coming towards you, hands raised and expression concerned. He had a sort of roguish charm about him, tousled dark hair and equally as dark eyes (too lose to Alec’s angry onyx to be of any comfort) set in a tanned face. He had more colour to his skin than Alec could ever hope to have. With the sleeves of a plain white shirt rolled up to his elbows, top buttons undone and smart pants on, he must have been coming home from a shift as a waiter perhaps, maybe a barista in one of the fancier coffee houses in town, but you didn’t trust him at all. How could you trust anyone when the one person you had relied on had been a lying, manipulative, deceitful little –

“S-stay back.” You stammered, scrambling to get to your feet now. The tear in your skin oozed fresh blood, dampening your skin and making you whimper. It wasn’t that it hurt necessarily, though it did sting terribly, it was more the fear that you knew what lurked in the shadows of Volterra and if anyone smelled that…well, Demetri was a hundred times more likely to find you now, wasn’t he?

“I don’t mean you any…erm…ah…hurt?” he tried, his accent thick and his English clearly not at the level of fluency. If you were in a better state of mind you’d be at least grateful he tried, however he was still approaching you and you didn’t enjoy his proximity when you needed to move. You had to keep going, had to get to a bus stop or a train station, something! Was there even a place like that in Volterra? There had to be right? You took a step away from him, your leg failing you so you half fell, half limped forward. His arms were around you in an instant and you screamed, wriggling desperately to fight him off.

“Let me go! Let me go!”

“Merda! Smettila di lottare!” (Shit! Stop fighting!) he cursed, tightening his grip on you. Legs flailing, you threw your head back in a desperate attempt to get him to let go, your skull protesting as bone crunched beneath it. His arms dropped and you darted forward, only for your knee to give way once more. With another loud curse the boy was on-top of you then, glancing around wildly to see if anyone had noticed your scuffle yet. His weight atop you was almost suffocating given how much trouble you had already had breathing, and tears filled your eyes as you wriggled to try and be free of him.

“Get off of me! Help!” you screamed. Blood dripped from his nose onto your cheeks, hot and thick and oozing slowly down your cheek. “Stop it!” Strong hands encircled your wrists, pinning them harshly to the stone beneath you. It dug into your spine uncomfortably and it became very clear very quickly you were not escaping this boy.

“Stop!” he snapped, muttering a few choice words in Italian you had heard Felix use once or twice. His expression was contorted into a mask of pain, his nose swollen but not broken and his body holding tight to your own to keep you from moving. Your struggling was only serving to make you brush against him though, and it was clear the effect it was having on him was not helping him decide to let you go. If you had been in your right mind, you would have understood this boy was only trying to help, stop you moving to ensure you didn’t hurt yourself further, but in the moment your reality was warped and far too terrifying for you to see sense.  

“Fuoco! Fuoco!” (Fire! Fire!) Your father had always taught you to tell fire rather than help, it attracted more attention he said. You didn’t attract the kind of attention you wanted. The boy was thrown off of you in a blur of movement, his body smashing into the brickwork of the house across from you. You heard the bones shattering, his ear-piercing scream ringing in your ears as a black cloak obscured his attacker. With or without the cloak you knew who it was, the smaller, lean stature, the ferocity with which he tore into his victim. You whimpered, eyes turning away from the poor boy. There was no way to help him now, not when Alec was busy popping his bones through his skin like one might spear a sausage with a cocktail stick at a party. Rolling to your front, you tried desperately to get your trembling limbs to cooperate, your hysterical screaming echoing off of the walls.

You had barely limped three steps when the screeching behind you abruptly cut away into a gurgling sound. Ice cold hands found your shoulders and you whirled desperately to try and fend Alec off, only to freeze at the sight of the poor, mangled boy behind you. His actions may not have been good, but he didn’t deserve to be folded in on himself like a human pretzel, bones poking out of his skin and blood gushing from an open wound on his throat. He was drowning in crimson, choked by the same saccharine liquid Alec was licking off of his thumb now, onyx eyes boring into your own with his usual apathetic expression hiding the pure mania in his eyes.

He hadn’t even fed, he’d killed the boy for sport.

“See what happens when you go out alone little human?” he asked. The bile rose in your throat too quickly to stop it and Alec obligingly held your hair as you turned to the side and threw up at your feet, hot acid burning the back of your throat and stomach churning violently. Panting, you kept your wide-eyed stare fixed on the cobblestones. Even then it wasn’t enough, a trail of blood slowly seeping its way towards you, descending downhill like some morbid snake writhing between the stones. You couldn’t keep the tears away this time as Alec’s breath, metallic with the scent of another man’s blood, sent a wave of dizziness over you.

“P-please…please d-don’t…I can’t…” your head spun, too many thoughts and feelings crashing and colliding and rendering you a stammering mess before you finally grew mute, your body growing cold. Alec held you tenderly, like you were the only thing in the world to him that mattered, his embrace as soft as cotton but cold, as though death itself had shrouded you. In the distant parts of your mind you recognised he was talking to you, but you didn’t dare listen. He was the serpent that tempted Eve, a voice of velvet spinning spider webs to ensnare you. Dimly, you noted that the boy’s blood was running past your toes now.

Was this how it ended for you? Had Alec finally had enough of your obedience training? Clearly it hadn’t worked. You felt filthy to the core for enjoying his embrace, but his arms were strong and held you when your legs couldn’t anymore, his honeyed words a balm to your aching soul, promising his own brand of everlasting love - the same brand he’d gotten you hopelessly addicted to. Even his scent made your head swim, fresh linen that should be so crisp and clear, refreshing, just drowned you further. Nobody would come for you now. Alec had finally gotten you in his grasp just as he wanted and you were far, far too tainted for anyone to save. The wounds his love had inflicted too deep, festering and rotting you from the inside out, and the worst part was, you had let it happen.

You had accepted every kind word, every smile, every present, every touch, as a gift bestowed on you that you were unworthy of. So blinded by the dazzling display of redemption were you you hadn’t seen beyond the surface of the superficial affection he laid at your feet, too enamoured with all he had become to see the old monster lingering in every smile and darkening of his eyes. Alec had never changed, he had simply wore you down, so when his frozen fingers pushed your jaw upward and to the left you didn’t fight, because deep down you knew you’d never stood a chance.

“It’s alright Y/N, you’re only human,” he whispered, “You can be forgiven for that…”

“How?” your voice cracked. Forgiveness seemed impossible. If Bella or your father or anyone you loved could see you now you knew forgiveness would not be the word on their lips. How could you be forgiven for letting yourself fall so far? How could you be forgiven for being the reason that poor boy didn’t go home tonight? He had chosen to try and help you and it had only gotten him brutally murdered. The only thing Alec had ever been right about was that you were only human. None of the terrible things that had happened to you or anyone surrounding you were your fault. The blame lay solely at Alec’s feet.

“By acknowledging your flaws and becoming something more.”

Somehow, despite all the evidence before you, you really hadn’t expected him to bite down. Some part of you still thought he was above that maybe. It was like lava pouring straight from his mouth into your veins, filling your wound until it spilled over and shot down your arms, through your torso, scorching your nerve endings. It spread rapidly and you couldn’t bite back the bloodcurdling scream that left you. Alec held you tight as your body jerked, trying to escape the inescapable, the agony was all internal, a fire consuming you from the inside out.

“Alec! Alec what did you do!”

“What I had to to protect my mate!”

“Good god Alec…”

“Look at this mess.” The voices were indistinguishable, heightened and then muted, blending and yet distinctive. Your vision was too blurred to figure out the faces behind the cloaks swarming you, ripping you from one cold embrace to the next. Everything was too hot and you couldn’t escape it, no way to tear yourself out of your own body as it was flooded with acid.

“Shhhh, shhh little human.”

“Demetri get her out of here before she draws attention to this scene.”

“D-D-De-“ you barely got half of his name out before another scream broke through your throat. You didn’t have the strength to hold it back, couldn’t feel the grip your friend had on you. The world was slipping away inch by inch as you drowned in a pool of molten fire, the surface disappearing and taking you with it. Maybe this was hell? Maybe your weakness had earned you a spot in eternal fire and torment and this was only the beginning of a very long forever?

“Just give in Y/N, let go, just let go.” Somewhere through the pain you were sure Demetri had said this to you, and you battered heart didn’t know how to take it. It beat erratically, every frantic thud hoping beyond hope it would take you closer to a reunion with Bella, with the Cullen’s, with anyone you held dear. Did Demetri just want you to fall unconscious or did he mean you to really let go? What did you have to wake up for in Volterra after all? Alec would never let you leave, that much was clear now. You tried to hold onto these thoughts, really debate them and use them to ground you and keep you there, but they scattered like ash with the rest of you as the fire built to a raging inferno and melted everything you ever were.

The intense agony was all you knew now. What else could you do? Trapped in your head your only option was to count the seconds between one wave and the next, each drowning bout of flame lapping at your soul, disintegrating who you were piece by piece. By the time the fire had started to recede you weren’t sure how much time had passed, if time even had meaning. You were amazed your heart had held out under the assault of venom. It started at your extremities, like something in your chest was winching the fire back in, but as the sweet and numbing relief of the cold crept in at your toes the fire in your heart burned hotter. A grunting sound was the first thing you’d heard beyond the screaming in your head for a while, and you realised it was you, desperately fighting back the cry building in your throat as the white hot core in your chest blazed through the last of your humanity.

By the time you slumped back down, your consciousness drifting back to you slowly, you were struggling to remember how you had gotten in this predicament in the first place. Where were you? Who was around you? You wanted Bella, oh you wanted your sister so badly. The air around you felt heavier on your skin, saturated with sharp scents that overpowered your nose and made your tongue tingle when you opened your mouth for that first gasp of air. Your eyes were next to snap open, immediately focusing on the cracks in the wooden beams and the stone ceiling, the dust mites floating in the air. There was an assault of noise next, voices chattering and laughing, birds twittering, cars honking and more, so much more. Hands flying up to your ears, you noticed how it felt different to move, more fluid somehow, and the bright shine in the corner of your eye mad you sit up and move your hand back towards the light.

It glittered. Your hand was crystal, reflecting light and throwing it against the walls where it shattered into rainbow patterns, dazzling your too focused eyes.

“Y/N?”

Danger. Danger danger danger danger danger –

“Felix, give her time…it’s alright young one, we are not here to harm you.” Another foreign voice. You moved so fast everything should have blurred, your body twisting and turning  agilely as you shot off of the soft mattress and hit the hard wall with crushing force, stone chipping and falling around you while you dug your nails into the natural rock of the wall. The noise that ripped from your throat was threatening, air rushing up from your lungs and pushing out between your teeth. It shocked you enough to make you freeze, brain scrambling to catch up because there was no way that noise had come from you. Wait, who were you again? Who were they? The voices seemed familiar, but different, their faces to. The men were beautiful in a way nobody should ever be allowed to be, the flawless planes of their faces also reflecting diamond light across the walls as one slowly crept closer to you. Another hiss of air escaped your throat, warning him to stay back.

“Now who needs to give her time.” Felix, that’s what he’d called him…Felix! Your mind dredged up the murky images on demand, and you couldn’t help but frown as you tried to clear the image in your head. It was like watching the memories flow through dirty water, Felix and Demetri helping decorate your room with you, avoiding you in the corridors, no longer talking to you because Alec –

Alec!

“No.” you whispered, startled again into standing up straight, hand flying to your throat as a foreign, bell-like voice rang out. Demetri paused, letting your wild eyes take in the room.

“He is not here Y/N, the Masters’ are punishing him for his…indiscretion, by making him miss your awakening.” Felix chose his words carefully as Demetri slowly continued forward. It was so hard to focus, so much noise, so much to see, so many thoughts spinning rapidly through your mind. It worked faster now, you noticed, your brain working at top speed in a way you knew you’d only achieve with a substantial amount of caffeine if you were still human. Thoughts of Alec consumed you. Where was he? What had become of the boy he had murdered? Would he be kinder to you now you were no longer human? No longer imperfect…

“Y/N, try to focus, I know there is a lot to process right now.” Demetri sounded apologetic almost and your eyes snapped to him.

“I want to go home.” You whispered. Even as you said the words there was an uncomfortable tug in your gut, like something sharp had nicked at your intestines almost. The idea made you uncomfortable.

“What you need right now is to feed.” Demetri amended, his hand gentle on your arm. His words started an inferno in your throat. It was like the worst sore throat you’d ever had multiplied ad infinitum, the burn scorching from top to bottom while your gut twisted horribly. You weren’t just hungry, you were starving.

“Of course that’s what she needs, what newborn doesn’t?” the voice was smooth, so hypnotic you couldn’t help but relax, silently pleading to hear more. If your blood hadn’t already frozen over, you swore it would have upon seeing Alec again. He held what you assumed was the secretary in his arms, given her smart attire, but it was difficult to focus on little else other than the thrumming of her pulse, the tattoo in your brain even more hypnotising than his voice had been. Neither Demetri nor Felix could catch you as you dipped beneath their arms and snatched the body straight out of Alec’s hands, desperate to stop the burning in your throat.

“Y/N don’t!” Demetri’s voice sounded far off, almost like you were listening to him through cotton wool. The sound of blood flowing, a heart thumping…it was far far louder. Your body moved on autopilot, teeth clamping onto soft flesh. After that first burst of sweet, hot blood, your mind went completely blank. The taste was sublime, so intense on your tastebuds like nothing else had ever been. It soothed the fire in your throat some, a torrent of red dousing the flames and soaking your skin. When you could no longer take mouthfuls of the saccharine substance, a needy whine bubbled up in your throat, the tap running dry far too soon for your liking. Your throat still itched.

“Shhhhhh, I know, I know. Do not worry my love, we’ll find you more.” That voice, that hypnotic voice…with the fire in your throat calmed somewhat it was clearer in your ears, helping to ease your desperation and focus your mind some. The fingers in your hair were gentle, the occasionally brush of their skin against yours warm and inviting. You leaned into the tender touch gratefully. There was a scent too, the most intoxicating, fresh linen and pine scent, a hint of something smoky lingering underneath. Inhaling deeply, you let strong arms pull you into a firm chest, taking in lungfulls of that heady scent and letting your turbulent thoughts calm to the rhythm of the fingers running through your hair.

“Alec…”

You gasped slightly, eyes snapping open from your half-lidded gaze. The name had filled you with fear, trepidation, but the sensations surrounding you right now…you were in a safe, hazy little bubble, it was difficult to feel the fear you thought you should. You had totally forgotten he was even in the room and it was no small shock to you that he was the one holding you, that he had created this internal sense of tranquillity you were drowning in.  

“I will not let my mate starve, the Masters’ and their punishment be damned.” The smooth bass of a sprightly young voice that filtered in your ears was so similar yet so different. Alec’s voice was nothing short of mesmerising and when you looked up at him his face was just as distracting. Smooth, flawless skin, pale as the moonlight on ocean waves, stretched like an unblemished canvas across high cheekbones and a strong jaw. You could trace the perfect curve of dark eyebrows with your finger, run your hands through the soft tresses of dark hair that framed his face and brushed his eyes. Crimson red eyes peered into your own, softened by adoration and desire.

It was as if your very heart burst forth from your chest to reach out to his. You never wanted anyone else to look at you the way Alec did. Suddenly, nothing he did had mattered, because you were the imperfect one before. This man before you…you saw it now with your new eyes, saw his God-like status for what it really was. You had been unworthy until now. He had elevated you to the same status, was able to love you deeply now.

“Alec.” You breathed his name like it was a quiet prayer. His fingers moved from your hair to your jaw, slowly tracing over your cheekbone with his thumb.

“Welcome back. You are…you’re breath taking.” He gently lowered his forehead to yours and you pushed back lightly, desperate to envelop yourself in the warmth his skin now radiated.

“Really?” you whispered.

“Of course.” Alec promised. You closed your eyes, drowning in his heavenly scent.

“Y/N…you’ll need to feed some more. Perhaps we can then contact the Cullen’s and see about getting you home. We don’t usually allow newborns to stay in the castle.” Demetri spoke up finally, shattering the peaceful quiet surrounding you. That pinching sensation in your gut was back again, your eyes widening. Alec had finally accepted you! You were finally good enough and Demetri just wanted to – to send you away? No. No absolutely not. Any thoughts of going home that you had once entertained were long gone. You couldn’t leave now, not when you had to show Alec how grateful you were, how you were better now like this.

“Do I have to go?” you whispered. Alec shook his head.

“Of course not Y/N, your place is here, with me.” His lips were so soft on your own, a shiver rolling down your spine at the rightness of it. He was your perfect fit. You were made for all of his light and dark, to bear the brunt of his best and worst. You hadn’t been before, but you were ready now, ready to survive his obsession.

These violent delights have violent ends

And in their triumph die, like fire and powder,

Which, as they kiss, consume. The sweetest honey

Is loathsome in his own deliciousness

And in the taste confounds the appetite.

Therefore love moderately. Long love doth so.

Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow. Friar Lawrence, Romeo and Juliet, Act 2 Scene 6, by William Shakespeare

[volturicangetit]

C.V- Until afterwards

Summary: You meet your soulmate in Volterra, but he’ll have to wait until you two can catch up. (soulmate au)

Request: yes/NO

Warnings: none

Wordcount: 1034

A/N: writers block is still making me it’s bitch so enjoy this short Caius drabble

For the majority of his life, Caius has thought he would never meet his soulmate. The dark cursive letters had appeared on his wrists centuries, even millennia, ago. The letters formed a name that now familiar to him although he had never met the person it belonged too. When he was younger he had sought out your family. Caius had asked your ancestors for you, but at last, you weren't there yet. He had given up on looking for you ages ago. In his mind, you had died long ago. That was until he saw you.

Demitri had brought you in. You met Demitri years ago in New York when you were still trying to find your way in life. Demitri had been sent on a mission but he hadn't been able to feed. You had offered him some of your blood in exchange for some money. Rent in New York isn't cheap. Mix that with college and you were drowning in student loans. The concept of money doesn't exist to the Volturi. For them, money is just a piece of paper with a number written on it. Ever since your first meeting, you and Demitri had kept in touch. So when he heard that you went to Italy for a vacation, he had asked you to come to Volterra. He didn't intend on you meeting the kings but it was inevitable.

"Just watch your words around them," Demitri says. You nod at him, only half-listening to him. You tap your foot along to the opera music playing in the elevator. Demitri grabs your ar and turns you towards him. "I'm serious. The masters aren't kindhearted. Not a little bit.". You push his hand off you. "Yeah, yeah. Keep my mouth shut. I get it," you say. You shoot Demitri a reassuring smile. "I'll watch my attitude, don't worry.". The ding of a bell alerts you that the elevator has reached your floor. The metal doors open and Demitri quickly pulls you out of the elevator. "Little devil's box," he groans. You smile at his words. "Never liked technology.". You shake your head at him as you swat his arm playfully.

"Old man," you say. Demitri's brows furrow as he shakes his head. His mouth opens like a fish as he tries to come up with a good comeback but his mind blanks on him. "I'm not old," he says with a pout. In many ways, he reminds you of a toddler. You mouth 'sure' at him as you reach the doors to the throne room. Demitri makes a motion for you to zip your mouth before pulling the door open for you. The brightness of the room immediately surprises you. Much like the rest of the castle, the walls are royally decorated with baroque-like drawings and columns. Absentmindedly, you walk into the room. You only get pulled out of your gaze when Demitri pulls on your arm.

You quickly look over at him and give him a reassuring smile. "You must be Y/n," a sing-songy voice says. You look over at the man. Raven hair flows down his shoulder, a dark robe hugs his shoulders and a vomit-inducing smile rests on his lips. Aro. You smile at him even though every cell in your body tells you to run away from him. His eyes dart down to your wrist. A small gasp leaves his lips as he reads the curly letters on your wrist. You look down at the words. You never tried to hide your soulmate mark. You were proud of it. Not everyone got blessed with a soulmate. "Magnificent," Aro whispers.

Demitri's cold fingers wrap around your wrist as he brings it up to his level. He reads the name set permanently into your skin. He has never paid much mind to them. Every time he saw you, it was cold weather so you always wore long sleeves. And now that he sees the words he's shocked that he hasn't noticed them earlier. "O no," he whispers. You look up at him. You want to ask him what's going on but you remember his earlier words for you to 'zip it'. He pulls you behind him softly in a protective manner. "Master, please.".

Aro rises from his seat and mentions for the blond man sitting at his left. Caius. Caius looks between you and Aro. He looks down at your wrist and notices the first word written on your skin. His own name. He quickly stands up from his throne and runs over to your side. He's in front of you so quickly that his movements only look like a blur to you. He grabs your wrist with surprising gentleness. He turns it so that the words are now facing him. Like he excepted. His own name displayed in beautiful letters on your skin. His handwriting. Another fun quirk that comes with the soulmate mark. He holds up his own writs for you. Your fingers brush against his cold skin as you push the long sleeves of his robes up.

From under the thick cotton fabric, your name appears. It's set into his skin an a handwriting that you immediately recognize. Your handwriting. You gasp as you take a step away from Caius. You reach out for Demitri and grab onto his arm. Demitri pulls you towards him and away from Caius. A scowl forms on his face as he sees you retreat from him. "You're my soulmate," you whisper. For the first time years, a smile appears on Caius's lips. He nods at your words. He takes a step closer to him and you let him. You let go of Demitri's arm as you step closer to Caius. You hold your hand out for him and he shakes it.

"Y/n," you introduce yourself. Caius nods as his smile grows. Electric waves seem to flow between the skin where your hands touch. You slowly pull your hand away from him. "Do you want to stay?" he asks. You tilt your head as you look at him with confusion in your eyes. "I want to get to know you.". You shake your head as you look behind you at Demitri.

"I'm going to hang out with Demitri first. Travel around Italy, but afterwards," you say. You step away from Caius and walk towards Demitri. You smile up at Demitri. The tension that was first held in his muscles is now gone and his posture is much more relaxed. "Until afterwards," Caius says.

TWILIGHT TAGLIST: @scuzmunkie​ @thanossexual​ @prettyinblack231​ @kpopgirlbtssvt​ @cullens-stuff​ @rexburn12​ @puer-de-infinitate​ @jelly-fishy-babie​ @awesomebooklover17​

[lizardrosen]

more about nonbinary edgar

a followup to this post and this fic. Many thanks to @all-mimsy for being a creative partner, and to @butchhamlet, without whose trans Edmund post I would never have thought of nonbinary Edgar.

I’m using he/him pronouns for this post for a couple reasons. Edgar’s just starting to figure himself out and takes a while to figure out who he is and what he wants, and then even after he figures himself out, pronouns simply aren’t that important to him. He’s not like Edmund; he doesn’t need to be acknowledged by a world trying to bar his path, so gender is more about realigning himself with his inner world.

Edmund Does Not Understand this approach at all so it’s just one more missed connection. However Edgar understands Edmund’s need to Prove Himself, on an intellectual level if not a personal level.

When they were kids Edgar used to brush and braid Edmund’s hair all the time, and he was really good at it. Edmund liked the feeling of being cared for, but mostly he wanted it close to his head and out of his face so he didn’t have to think about it for a while. Then Edmund transitioned and Edgar was a little upset and jealous that he cut off his long beautiful hair, and he missed the bonding activity but he also missed the feeling of playing with long hair, and it took him a while to realize that he had been living vicariously through Edmund and was halfway thinking about growing his own hair long.

Edmund was so much happier and more genuine after his transition, and Edgar was jealous and happy about that too. He was always supportive and corrected their father when he misgendered Edmund, but of course Edmund got bristly and mean when Edgar asked too many sincere-but-intrusive questions.

Lots of sibling feelings about presentation and societal roles and things they were born to but don’t have to keep. The way Edgar gets to have everything without even trying and Edmund doesn’t even consider that maybe Edgar doesn’t want it. The way Edgar feels all anyone has to say about him is “legitimate” and “male” because he’s just there, while Edmund gets to be smart and handsome and charming and well-spoken.

When Edgar asks Edmund how he knew he was a boy, because he’s trying to figure out why he sometimes feels like he’s not one, he’s still just one big question mark, there’s nothing definite for him to attach his gender feelings to, making him doubt himself constantly. But he’s certain that he’s not a girl, even if he knows nothing else, and that helps him not feel entirely adrift.

Even though Gloucester isn't great at accepting Edmund as he is, Edgar still gets the feeling that he's glad to finally have a son who's better at BEING a son than Edgar is, and if he ever said that he thinks maybe he's NOT a son, Gloucester wouldn't take it kindly, so he just makes an effort not to think about it in his presence, so sure he can see it on his face.

So when Edmund tells him he has to run, his first thought after "some villain hath done me wrong" is "he found out" even though he doesn't even know for sure what exactly this nebulous truth about him is. His third thought is "Did Edmund tell? He wouldn't have, would he?"

(But he’s right. Edmund is a real piece of work, and if he had some sort of secret that would get Edgar disowned he probably would tell, but he draws the line at outing someone. He doesn’t even think of it until later, coming off the high of Cornwall telling him “you shall be ours” and then he hates himself for thinking of it at all. He also hates himself for not thinking of it sooner because clearly he wasn’t ruthless enough. Edmund, please.)

When he’s begging for alms he sees a pretty patterned skirt barely hanging onto a laundry line. After the people inside refuse to give him any food he takes the skirt to blanket his loins, getting rid of the pants that were getting ragged and grimy anyway. It’s a relief. He didn’t know that movement could feel like this.

Edgar’s not a man any more than he is a madman, or a man from Dover, or any of a half-dozen other costumes he’s donned and doffed since his exile began. It’s just a game everyone’s agreed to play, only now  he’s discovered he doesn’t have to play, or at least not by the same rules, and anything he does choose can be as lasting or as temporary as he wishes.

This all gets even more interesting if it’s one of the productions where Kent is played by a woman. Even if the role of Caius allows her to let out some of the impulsive violence and bluntness she couldn’t enact as a Lady and a Countess, the maleness really is just part of her disguise, not her testing out being trans.

Edgar might vaguely perceive that Caius is afab, because he’s been peeling back the wallpaper of the world and can see things he didn’t know before, but between Edmund’s transition and his own newfound discovery that it’s all about costumes he doesn’t jump to assuming that Caius is a woman, but just accepts him as presented.

Maybe the Fool is also fucking around with gender and presentation, because the world is falling apart around their ears, and no one expects a Fool to adhere to tradition. Maybe they can be doublecast with Cordelia!

Feste-like, the Fool alludes to the gender situation of Edgar and Kent. Kent gets scared because that’s one step closer to revealing the treason of staying in the country after her banishment, but Edgar can’t help smiling a bit because he’s come so far from where he started, and he understands, a bit, why Edmund wants so badly to be Seen.

Kent survives after the end of the play because I say so, and becomes a mentor figure for Edgar, and is the first person he really talks to about gender stuff, after Edmund.

And Edgar starts to grow out his hair! Not super long, but long enough to braid. It raises a few eyebrows, but Edgar Does Not Care anymore what people think of him.

[jessicanjpa]

Re: The Volturi: Do you think they keep records like a census? Do they record the strength, numbers, and locations of various covens? Do they have maps of supernaturally significant locations? We know they were "nighttime patrons of the arts." Do they work as the cultural hub of the vampire world? Edward cannot openly published his music in the human world but can his compositions be preserved in Volterra? Would love to know your thoughts. :)

Ooh, interesting thoughts. Twilight has a bad case of Talking Heads Syndrome, so it’s especially fun to imagine what things might be hidden in the locked rooms of Volterra, what might be scattered across Rosalie’s dresser, things like that. There’s a hint in Breaking Dawn that the Volturi collect and preserve in general:

“What an addition to our histories!” (Aro about Renesmee) ...  “ And so much to learn, so much to learn! I know you don’t have my enthusiasm for collecting histories, but be tolerant with me, brother, as I add a chapter that stuns me with its improbability.”

My guess is they don’t write down a lot of things that human rulers would write down, simply because they don’t need to. They definitely keep tabs on census details: who created whom, where various nomads were last sighted, which coven has a grudge against which coven, etc. Most of it isn’t written down, though. They do have a room or two with big maps all over the place to make discussion easier. Certain maps tend to get more attention based on recent territory wars, werewolf sightings, and things like that. For more long-term conflicts like the American Southern Wars, there’s a map glued to a table with little tokens that can be moved around. Their intel is often years or even decades old, but the visual aides help them feel important.

I can definitely see Aro keeping a written registry that traces the venomlines of everyone they’ve come in contact with. In the middle ages he really got into designing a coat of arms for each coven who didn’t already have one. Whenever he meets a new vampire his favorite puzzle is trying to figure out how they’re “related,” venomwise, to other vampires he’s met. 

Aro WANTS Volterra to be seen as the cultural center of the vampire world. And I’m sure it is, in a way. Whenever a civilization appears to be crumbling, the Volturi try to steal/buy artifacts in order to preserve the philosophy and art that might otherwise be lost to history. They see individual humans as cattle, but the evolving fruit of human consciousness is of great interest to them. Paintings and sculptures are scattered around the halls of Volterra on display and kept as treasures in various bedrooms and studies. Countless scrolls and letters and books are haphazardly organized in libraries. And of course Aro’s mind itself is a treasure trove of all the minds he’s touched. He’s an accomplished storyteller and loves nothing more than a new audience who hasn’t heard it all before.

But the flow of pilgrims has slowed to a trickle in recent centuries. The Volturi have done a good job over the centuries reminding the vampire world that their rule is necessary, but they haven’t done as well lately in promoting this idea of Volterra as a cultural destination. The average nomad avoids Volterra at all costs. I think they got something of a wake-up call in Breaking Dawn in that they finally realized how out of touch they’ve become. The question is: how might they go about improving their image in the years to come?

I definitely agree with your headcanon about them preserving vampire accomplishments throughout history. It might feel less urgent to do so, since the artist in question could presumably live forever, but let’s dream a little: I can easily imagine Aro (and maybe Athenodora?) eagerly inviting vampire musicians like Edward to submit copies of their work to be preserved for the ages. Maybe various vampires have written their own accounts of vampire history. (Aro so wishes he could publish that.) I like to imagine that there have been vampire poets and skalds and folk tales and everything else. Maybe Corin weaves tapestries that tell those stories because she needs something to do. Caius insists on writing dry accounts of military conquest and then Aro sneaks little drawings and exciting notes in the margins. He dreams of writing an encyclopedia about all the vampires gifts he’s ever heard of, but he still hasn’t decided how to go about it.

[like-rain-or-confetti]

Request: Seeing Ghosts (Alec Volturi x Reader)

Supermarket Flowers - Ed Sheeran

Italy was supposed to be for time off. You most certainly needed it. You couldn't ignore the tug you felt toward the castle, though you wanted to because you couldn't run from your abilities. 

Seeing the dead was a gift passed down in your family, it skipped a generation so the next person you had known in your family to have had it was your grandmother. She told you to keep it secret, wanting to keep you from the pain she had in her life. She had to learn it the hard way. People thought she was crazy and her childhood was constant bullying. Her mother had kept it from her father so he too thought she had problems. 

As always, it started young. There were many pictures of you looking off into an empty space, hundreds of drawings of imaginary friends. Though they weren't all sweet. There was the nightmares and gruesome drawings of horrific characters. Whilst your parents deemed it imaginary, your grandmother always reassured you in secret that they couldn't hurt you and you'd be completely fine. That was the curse your grandmother told you of. No matter how horrifying or evil the spirits could appear, they couldn't touch you. They were cursed to watch the world go by until they found peace. That's where your family come in, many are able to be saved by showing them the way to the light and move on. 

What drew you in wasn't the castle itself, it was someone calling out from the inside. You couldn't see anyone calling and you knew it was be a bad idea to go inside. That didn't stop you from entering as a tour group entered. You were about to step out of the group of tourists to speak with the receptionist but only made the step out before freezing. The receptionist was looking at you, smiling as she did so, waiting for you to say something to her greeting. Though she wasn't who had your attention. Behind her, in the dark, was a girl. She was blonde, her hair down that was slightly tangled and looked to be a teenager. She wore jeans and a crop top. She looked miserable and wore a look you were very acquainted with. She looked like she wanted to leave for some time now. Many bored teenagers wore that expression, but so did the dead. It was an expression you just couldn't escape. However the girl was only the first warning. The air felt heavy and you knew immediately that there were many ghosts here. Many were trapped here, the place of their death. "Quickly, please, stay together!" The beautiful woman in a red dress smiled warmly, violet eyes gleaming. That was strange. You didn't know violet eyes were even possible. 

The double doors opened and that was when the nightmare began. You were roughly grabbed by a man with long black hair and bright red eyes. Screams rang in your ears, your eyes wide. The man leaned down before he froze. He roughly threw you to the floor. "Not that one!" He barked. You could only sit and stare, horrified at the scene. The screams of people around you and the snarling of others dressed in various shades of black and grey. Your next observation was their frightening red eyes. They were monstrous. You had never seen such a thing. You had hoped you’d never have to. It was something you couldn’t have imagined. 

Just like that it was over. Bodies were piled and pulled to a drain. The man from before towering over you. “What are you?” You cowered in fear. The man chuckled. “My name is Aro.” He crouched down, yet still towered over you. “You, my dear, have magnificent talents.” The words couldn’t escape you and you could only shudder.  Suddenly he reached out and pulled you to a stand. “Come now. You poor thing. You’re shaking.” His words were sickening. As though he wasn’t aware how horrible the scene was. 

There was something oddly obscene that you had settled after weeks of being in the Volturi’s presence. From what you understood, they were vampires who enforce the vampire laws. Aro, Marcus and Caius were the leaders. The rest were their guard.  You were still alive because of Aro’s fascination with your sight.

It wasn’t the usual family heirloom. Very few in your family actually had it. You were the only living relative who had it. Your aunt had the sight but had difficulty coping. She had been sad for all the times you had met her. She died in a car accident when you were fifteen. The holder before that was your grandmother’s and her grandmother. Your grandmother saw it in you at a young age. She always defined you as sensitive. However, she never clarified what she meant by being sensitive.

Whilst there were many Volturi members, they were nothing in comparison to the number of ghosts. Alec had become a friend despite being one of the most feared, if not the most feared vampire of the vampire world. With you, he warmed up gradually although quicker than he had with most. “So what do you think of the place?” Alec asked. “Its loud.” You responded. What he didn’t realise your response wasn’t in design or what you could hear, many simple noises turning into echoes. Instead it was the screams of the dead roaring in despair. “That’s a new one.” You hummed in response, cracking a smile. 

After some weeks that consisted a lot of time with Alec, he finally asked you what was on his mind. “What’s it like? Do you see everyone who has ever died here?” You hummed again in thought before hurrying off your bed and grabbing a marker as well as two sheets of paper. You drew a circle on each. “So let’s say this. This bit of paper is this world, the physical one. You and I can see it. Everyone is living in this world. When people die, they leave this world to another.” You held up the other paper. You then put the paper together overlapping the circles slightly. “This is what i see. My grandma would tell me that I’m sensitive to the other world. Although she only ever told me that. I wasn’t allowed to tell my parents about it. It’s scary sometimes. I see them in the condition they died. In this castle it’s worse…because sometimes I hear them in between the walls.” 

You did your best for every ghost, some were successes, some where failures and then there were many you didn’t quite understand what they wanted. You offered the grey man a smile. “I see you. You aren’t forgotten. I promise.” He shifted slightly before climbing into your closet. You opened the doors to find him gone. You never saw him again. You assumed that perhaps that’s what he wanted - to be assured that he would be remembered. 

Another week later, you saw her again, the tourist girl, she had just passed by your room. You immediately looked around your door to see her standing and waiting for you. She didn’t look afraid, or in pain. In fact, she looked very comfortable with you. This didn’t surprise you anymore, she seemed to be trying to tell you something but she never said a word.  “(Y/N)?” You jumped slightly turning to see Alec. “Hey Alec.” Alec looked over your shoulder. “What were you looking at?” You shook your head. “Nothing. Doesn’t matter.” The tourist girl brushed past you to stand behind Alec, continuing to smile. “Well i wanted to tell you something, you’ve been here for some time now and...i’d like you to know.”  “Oh, okay. Fire away.” You smiled.  “You’ve been here for six months and during that time, it’s been wonderful to know you. You’ve opened my eyes to a whole other side of being, it’s made life i little less boring.” He paused. “It’s been a joy being your friend but...i can’t help but feel that isn’t enough for me anymore. What i mean to say is that i care and feel for you more things than i should for a friend. I usually wouldn’t be so forward but i trust you. You don’t have to say anything right now. I just thought you should know.” Alec finished. You closed the space between yourself and Alec, pressing a kiss to his cheek.  “I can get on board with that. I look forward to seeing where this goes.” Your eyes flickered behind him to see the tourist girl continuing to smile but her expression changed to one of satisfaction. Only this time, a grey hand reached out for her in the open door and she turned to looked at the owner, taking their hand and walking into the room. After that day, you never saw her again. 

“You’ve got that face again.” Alec said, taking your hands in his. The two of you were cross legged on his bed and you were once again distracted.  “So this will sound crazy but, i’ve been seeing a new person.” You began.  “That doesn’t sound crazy at all, we feed-”  “No.” You shook your head. “It’s not someone from this time. It’s a woman, she has dark hair and wears black dated clothes but, she never looks at me. I’ve never seen her face and she seems to just wander in and out of sight. I just can’t piece her together.”  “This really bothers you.” Alec said, looking into your eyes and rubbing his thumb along your knuckles.  “She has a strong presence but she doesn’t seem interested in communicating.” It could just be the time of year. Today is a special day after all.”  “It is?” Alec asked.  “Well apparently. it’s a legend my grandma always told me. Tonight is the night marking 100 years. There isn’t a name for it as far as i know but according to legend every one hundred years for one night only the dead and the living align. For a few people that means they’ll see a ghost of someone they miss the most. It’s completely at random and seemingly used as an explanation for some ghost sightings. Sightings are supposed to be more likely around this time.” You thought for a moment before shrugging. “Who knows? What i know is that i’m tired. This lady is making me work for answers and i still can’t figure it out. So on that note.” You leaned forward kissing Alec’s lips. “I’m going to bed. It’s eleven at night and i’m exhausted. I look at one more age of a book and i’ll die.” Alec chuckled. “Sleep well, my love.” 

You turned on your playlist which was needed after such an exhausting day. You didn't have any ear buds so you hoped it wouldn't annoy anyone too much. You cracked a smile to hear Ed Sheeran's 'Supermarket Flowers' playing. You closed your eyes, enjoying the peace and quiet. 

'Oh I'm in pieces, it's tearing me up, but I know. A heart that's broke is a heart that's been loved.'  Alec stiffened, unable to believe his eyes. He had seen the woman in front of him before, but it was a distant memory like a dream. She was pretty, petite in form, her brown hair, like his own, smoothed back into a low bun. She adorned a soft smile and seemed to know Alec. His eyes stayed on her and he realised just who this woman was. The song you had played oddly fitting. If only you knew what was happening right now. 

'So I'll sing Hallelujah. You were an angel in the shape of my mum' 

This woman wasn't a stranger. It took him some time but when it hit him, it hit him hard. This woman was his mother. 

Demetri looked at the little blonde girl in front of him. He never thought he'd see the angelic face again. To see her was the biggest gift he could have gotten even if she was to disappear before him. 

'I hope that I see the world as you did cause I know, A life with love is a life that's been lived.' 

The little girl moved towards him and oh how he wished he could remember her name. He knelt down to her level with a gentle smile. Her hair was just as he remembered, long and wavy. Her green eyes and wide smile welcoming him. Had the little girl missed him like he had missed her? Demetri never talked about his daughter. He was ashamed he couldn't remember her name. He wanted to keep her to himself and cherish the memories of her that remained. Even if they were brief moments. All consisted of her wide toothy grin and the most prominent was no different as she ran around in the nearby field. The grass so tall it was levelled at her shoulders. He couldn't remember how she died. A piece of him was glad for that. To see her now, in front of him, still smiling just as he remembered, his heart felt full yet so broken all at the same time. She died young, too young. Barely six years old. Demetri remembered how much love she had for the world. Even though the world had none for her. She had more love and forgiveness in her heart than trying someone would in three lifetimes and the world in her mind was light and beautiful. There was no evil in her eyes and Demetri was led to believe that never changed even in her final moments. The world was darker after she died. He hoped that he could be capable of the love his daughter had by nature. Or even learn to do so and see the world, just as she did, in the future. Whilst she died too young, she was at peace with the end of her life. She seemed at peace with it, yet he knew of vampires who lived for thousands of years and couldn't stomach the very thought of their own death. He spent so long trying to understand it but only one theory could suffice. Demetri's daughter lived a short life but she gave everyone so much love that perhaps she lived a better life than any of them combined. 

'You got to see the person that I have become. Spread your wings. And I know that when God took you back he said Hallelujah. You're home' 

Alec felt as though all of the air in his body suddenly escaped him. He didn't know if his mother was proud of him or if she knew everything that brought him up to this moment but just as always, her smile adorned acceptance for her son. It felt like a dream, a gift too good to be true to be reminded of his mother. He didn't know how to explain this to Jane but he was thankful that knowing you, you'd believe him and help him through the experience. 

Demetri watched as the little girls smile fell slightly into a small one, no longer her usual toothy grin and a hint of sadness behind her eyes. Somehow he knew he'd be losing her again. A part of him silently pleaded that she'd stay but her own expression told him that wouldn't be the case. Demetri wanted to reach out and touch the girl but he couldn't bring himself to do it, afraid that his hand would pass through her. The hardest part was always saying goodbye and having to do it twice was too much. Demetri didn't remember the first time yet he still felt the pain like it was yesterday, just by seeing the girls face. "Please..." He whispered, curling into himself slightly in attempt of protecting his heart from breaking again. The little girl faded away before his very eyes and was gone. Demetri's eyes squeezed shut for a moment, stifling back the pain. He then exhaled slowly, regaining his composure and rising to a stand. 

'When I fell down you'd be there holding me up. Spread your wings as you go. And when God takes you back we'll say Hallelujah You're home.

Fluffed the pillows, made the beds, stacked the chairs up.' 

Marcus trailed his fingers down the case on the bed that was filled with Didyme's old things. The ones he couldn't bare the sight of nor the possibility of being destroyed. So they remained hidden and untouched. He looked up and froze. Marcus couldn't tear his eyes away. He didn't dare. "Didyme..." The name barely got passed his lips, becoming only a broken whisper. The dark haired woman wore a slight smile on the opposite side of the bed. Her eyes telling him one thing she never had to say. 'I miss you.' Their relationship was built upon that. The ability to say so much to one another with only a look and no words at all. The moonlight reflected off her face. Slowly she moved around the bed, never breaking eye contact or her smile. She reached out her hand, moving towards him and almost touched his face. Just like that, she was gone and his grief returned but somehow he knew that this was a gift. He just didn’t know who to thank.

[chaoswillfallrpg]

AMYCUS CARROW is TWENTY-FOUR YEARS OLD and a BARMAN at THE GRAVE AFFAIR in KNOCKTURN ALLEY. He looks remarkably like DACRE MONTGOMERY and considers himself NEUTRAL. He is currently OPEN.

→ OVERVIEW:

tw: death

The strong, silent and sadistic type, Amycus Carrow has always enjoyed feeling like the most powerful person in the room, no matter what it takes for him to gain that feeling he craves. The eldest child of IRIS HOOKUM and EROS CARROW, Amycus has always been someone who liked to cause mischief but knew when exactly to step aside and allow everyone around him to take the fall when the going gets tough. A strong yet silent charmer, despite his beauty Amycus has been used to being slightly overlooked due to the large personality of his twin sister ALECTO. A few minutes separate Amycus from his younger sister, though in his mind it might as well have been a decade. His best friend from the moment she was born, Amycus wasn’t exactly certain when he had made the pact with himself to protect Alecto but he has spent a lifetime looking out for her and oftentimes taking the brunt of punishment for her actions. A schemer, Amycus enjoyed playing small pranks on the elves they had working at Carrow House. Curious about their magic, Amycus enjoyed prodding the elves to see what magic they might use against him and if despite his youth he would be able to counter their magic. The game between him and the elves was one of cat and mouse and began his interest in pressing the buttons of others to gauge how much he would get away with. For Amycus it was all about power. How much power could he wield over others and what he had in his possession.

When some elves were promptly punished and dismissed by his mother for their insolence, he didn’t feel sorrow as many children did. Amycus felt pride. Proud he had engineered such an encounter and interested to see what else he could get away with. Alecto also enjoyed punishing the house elves, though Amycus noted that it came from a completely different place for his sister. Alecto was consumed with rage, enjoying the pain she inflicted on others and doing anything in her power to feel the thrill of the reactions she garnered from both the elves and their family. At first, his mother presumed Alecto to be behaving out of childish wickedness, but as she got older it hinted as something a little darker. Alecto loved chaos and to be the master of it sitting at the helm and watching drama unfold before her pale green eyes. Despite his sister being quite willing to throw him under the Knight Bus headed straight for London in order to get out of trouble, Amycus felt very protective over her. If Alecto took some scissors to his mother’s gowns in anger, Amycus was found holding them. She wanted to eat biscuits before dinner, he was caught by their father getting them off the shelf and passing them to his sister. Having a very mischievous side, Amycus was always happy to aid Alecto in any of her schemes and took little to no persuasion to be part of her double act, but when their parents eyes focused in on them, Alecto was quick to point the finger and Amycus was happy for her to do it.

They were different in their pursuits of chaos. Amycus liked to get his hands dirty, Alecto preferred to watch other people carry out her dirty work for her. Alecto was the only person he would ever take the heat for, otherwise Amycus was quite a selfish person but his selflessness for his sister cost him his relationship with his father to a degree. Alecto was their father’s undisputed favourite, whilst Amycus held the favour of their mother. Though both the twins were high spirited, Amycus was more predictable than his sister. Away at school, he continued his role of keeper to Alecto. Slotting into a group of mischievous fellow Slytherins which jettisoned off NARCISSA BLACK’s court of subjects, drawing out the cruelty in an otherwise subdued VICTOR YAXELY and giving WILLIAM GOYLE and outlet for all of his most wicked thoughts and feelings. Narcissa might have ruled Slytherin with a cold heart and an iron fist, but Amycus and Alecto left people running scared. Muggle-Borns in particular ran in fear, but some fought back. MEAGHAN MCCORMACK was particularly mouthy, but Amycus enjoyed seeing how his persistence might mentally break her down. That was Amycus bread and butter long before he would learn of the unforgivable curses, toying with the kids of others like a cat with a ball. Even his own friends weren’t safe. Amycus had long suspected his best friend Victor as having feelings for him which Amycus mainly entertained for his own enjoyment. 

The reality of it was Amycus was only drawn in by people of strength and whilst most people found Victor’s twin sister ELEANOR YAXLEY unbearable, Amycus could see more of a future with her due to her unwillingness to be walked on. Amycus had a very high opinion of himself and whilst he has enjoyed various flings throughout his life, he truly believes no one is his intellectual match. At school, this high opinion of himself manifested in his attitude to teachers, constant trips in and out of detention hindering his grades and stunting whatever natural ability he had. Despite being a talented wizard, his arrogance and willingness to protect his sister above all else ensured his future would only ever be as the head of Carrow House. Alecto by his side and elves at their back and call it was enough for him, but his mother wanted more for her children. The Carrow twins might have been horrible characters but they were very beautiful and from a Sacred Twenty-Eight family which instantly made them desirable prospects for people who might try and tame them or had aspirations of marrying into an elite family. Eros had very little interest in marrying off his children, but cared about the continuation of their line and needed at least one child to carry it forward. Amycus had very little interest in children and was bored by the idea of marriage but allowed his mother to do her very best to try and match them up with someone.

If Amycus was to marry he wanted a challenge and would only settle for his equal in charm, beauty, blood and intellect, which was a fairly tall order. PERSEPHONE WILKES was a witch who liked things her own way and played second fiddle to no one which Amycus found interesting. Over the course of their courtship, Amycus tried his best to get in her head and under her skin, but only found boredom and distain from her. Tired, he focused his attention on trying to steal away THORFINN ROWLE from under ANASTASIA DUPONT’s nose but that only entertained him for so long. Iris was irritated by his behaviour who seemingly was showing the door to any suitor who knocked on it including Victor Yaxley but at the very least someone was there knocking. No one was even stupid enough to try to make a play for his sister and this realisation made his mother resort to desperate actions. Urging Eros to join the poker nights of CECCILY GREENGRASS, CYGNUS BLACK, WALBURGA BLACK, ILLAR TRAVERS and EELIS BURKE in the hopes of marrying off Alecto. It was eventually decided Alecto would be passed off to CAIUS BURKE, filling their mother wit joy, Alecto with anger and Amycus into fits of laughter. With his mother drawing up a contract with the Burke family, Amycus was left to his own devices, as was his father who had gotten a real taste for gambling whilst the back of his family was turned. Quietly, Eros had been getting a hole of debt which saw Ceccily Greengrass in possession of their home and demanding money from the family they no longer had. It wasn’t long before RITA SKEETER found out and it became known the family was broke. 

Alecto lost her contract, powerful people lost interest in Amycus and suddenly they had nothing. Power and status was everything to Amycus and now the stares of fear and admiration in his friends and foe had been replaced by pity. He was disgusted. Like a flash, his life had changed. He was the heir of Carrow House and now he was serving drinks to his friends at The Grave Affair. His reputation had followed him and his sister and it seemed that only CHRISTIANO and ANDRESSA PARKINSON felt pity for their situation. Amycus and Alecto did their best to pass their sentence working at the bar, conning people out of their money and mixing drinks that were so strong they could knock you out to those they despised. It was a small shred of what he had but it didn’t make him happy. Then one day he set his sights on someone who brought a glimmer of hope back into his life. LUCILLE JONES was a slightly older witch with so much self-confidence she seemed like a tough nut to crack. From a liberal family with a wicked streak similar to his own, Amycus has been slowly getting to know her and has felt shards of himself return as he watches her from across the bar. Although Amycus never thought someone would be able to play his intellectual games, Lucille has proven a formidable opponent, even if she is only a Half-Blood. With the aim of getting Lucille like putty in his hands, Amycus is interested to see how much he can get to do for him. Give him inside information? Steal from her aunt? Turn her family? Only time will tell.

ADDITIONAL INFORMATION:

Blood Status → Pure-Blood

Pronouns → He/Him

Identification → Cis Male

Sexuality  → Pansexual

Relationship Status → Single

Previous Education →  Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (Slytherin)

Societies → N/A

Family → Alecto Carrow (sister/best friend/colleague), Primrose Jorkins (estranged cousin), Daisy Hookum (estranged cousin), Poppy Hookum (estranged cousin/adversary)

Connections  → Victor Yaxley (best friend), William Goyle (close friend), Persephone Wilkes (close friend), Violet Bulstrode (close friend), Lucie Hollow (close friend), Walden MacNair (close friend), Eleanor Yaxley (friend/colleague), Narcissa Black (friend), Rabastan Lestrange (friend), Andressa Parkinson (boss), Christiano Parkinson (boss), Adrasteia Greengrass (colleague), Rita Skeeter (adversary), Lucille Jones (acquaintance), Tilden Toots (former adversary) 

Future Information → Eventual Death Eater, Father of Flora and Hestia Carrow, Defence Against The Dark Arts Teacher and Deputy Headmaster at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

AMYCUS CARROW IS A LEVEL 5 WIZARD.

[belorage]

2, 19, 33, 34, and 40 for Caius please?

2. Does your OC have dreams or nightmares? What are they like? Is there a recurring one?

Caius wasn't particularly prone to nightmares prior to his encounter with the envy demon at Therinfal Redoubt. Afterward, the most frightening recurring theme is coming face-to-face with his own image.

19. If someone was describing your OC to someone who had never met them, what distinguishing features would they mention? How would one identify your OC in a crowd?

Physically, his most notable features are probably his light blue eyes, his bright, toothy smiles, and [insert Cassandra voice here] those cheekbones (high praise indeed, considering the source). For the duration of the Inquisition, the conspicuously shiny armor is also a dead giveaway. However, pointing him out tends to be unnecessary, as he has little trouble drawing attention to himself, Maker help him.

33. Describe your OC’s favorite environment. Urban or rural? Wild or controlled? What’s the climate like?

Hailing from the Free Marches means that he is, of course, partial to the sea. Looking out over the Waking Sea from its southern shore on the Storm Coast was a highlight to him, as was the constant rain (much to the misfortune of his traveling party). He enjoys urban environments when they are new to him, but he tends to tire of them quickly and finds life within walls of all kinds stuffy and monotonous—hilarious (or perhaps eminently understandable) for a noble son of Ostwick, but what can you do? In general, he prefers the wild outdoors, the notable exception being caves because “when has there ever been a pleasant story about a place like this?”

34. What would someone blackmail your OC with? Would they be successful in getting what they wanted?

Most attempts at blackmail would be laughed off, seeing as a majority would either be absurd or otherwise miss their mark as a source of shame. What are they going to say? “We have it on good authority that the Inquisitor ran naked through the streets of Val Royeaux!” Caius would find that hilarious. "The Herald of Andraste is bedding a magister's son!" Yes, and what of it? He welcomes the rumors. However, with the growing burden of leadership, threats made in an attempt to twist his words or create doubt about his motives as Inquisitor would eventually get a rise out of him. He has only ever wanted purpose, not power or authority. Still, Caius is unlikely to make a deal with a blackmailer, and the flipside of his highly compassionate nature is that he is prone to emotional outbursts under pressure. Thankfully, he has a somewhat more level-headed advisor (Josie) to step in before he makes a potentially counterproductive rebuttal.

40. Are there any habits your OC has picked up from people around them? Do they know where they’re from? Does your OC try to stop themselves from doing it?

No, none that come to mind. If he’s mimicking habits from people around him, chances are he’s doing it intentionally and in-the-moment.

[jmhwritesstuff]

(I wanted to do something on-theme what with the holiday season and all. So here is a little something of The Divine that takes place at the end.) 

The lights. She couldn’t stop gazing at the lights. Bright and warm and beautiful. The setting was different, her entire world changed, but it still reminded her of window-lit taverns. In the dead of night when the streets had been empty and she had nowhere to go, Aira recalled the many frosty winters she had sworn would one day be her end.

Her eyes swept over the room, an attempt at pushing the memory from her mind. She watched as town and city folk from all across Arylide swayed with one another, gliding across the marble floor, silk and chiffon and cloaks of all colours blending together. The music soared and thrived, filling the room with so much life Aira could barely stand it. She slid her hands over the non-existent creases in her own dress, the emerald green velvet soft against her fingers. 

She spotted Laina and Asher, the notorious Caswell sisters, by the buffet table and found herself smiling as they were. But it was not full like theirs. She could not bring herself to drive away the tang of bitterness clutching at her heart. Even Diego, though clearly uninterested, was being pulled reluctantly into the dancing crowd by a smitten woman. She felt a small laugh rise in her throat despite herself. This was a world she had never expected; a happiness she could never have predicted. Above all else, Caius and Vossler were gone. They had won. She had survived.

And yet Ronan was not here with her.

She tore her eyes away. From her friends, from the crowd, from those damn lights.

Aira slipped out of the room, following the back wall towards the towering double doors, ignoring the occasional glance in her direction as she went. All she could think about was air - the cold winter chill she could not shake. It clung to her, called her, in a way she could only think to describe as morbid. It was a remnant of a life she had left before all this, but one she knew would be a part of her no matter who she was, or who she had yet to become. 

But she knew it was so much more.

“Aira.”

Along the corridor, she halted, turning back over her shoulder to find Nyick had followed. She glanced at the thick grey coat draped over one arm as he drew closer.

“I thought you might need this.”

She kept her eyes cast downward, a smile ghosting her lips. “Thank you.”

He unfurled it and held it up. She turned away from him, slipped her arms into the coat, and felt the faint linger of his fingertips on her shoulders as she fastened the clasp at her neck. 

“Mind if I join you?” he asked.

She looked up at him with some surprise. “How do you know where I’m going?”

But he huffed a soft laugh with a roll of his ice-blue eyes. “If I’ve learnt anything about you, Aira, it’s that you hate being cooped up.”

Of course he was right, but it still threw her that he had noticed.

Still, she raised her chin, forced one corner of her mouth into a lop-sided smirk, and held out her arm. “Let’s go.”

He grinned, linking his arm through hers as she led him toward the castle gardens.

Their boots touched snow, flakes of it falling from the sky, settling on the ground in a thick blanket of glistening white. The music had already begun to fade behind them as they wandered further into the gardens, and as the frost bit at Aira’s cheeks, she breathed the winter air in silence. The knot in her chest finally eased. 

Nyick remained quiet beside her, his hands finding their way into the pockets of his black woollen jacket. She couldn’t remember the last time she had seen his shoulders draped in his Commander’s cloak - not since the battle. And although the swelling of his cheek and jaw had lessened, the bruises remained, stark against his pale skin. 

Aira winced. She had almost lost him that day. It felt like a long distant dream.

“Are you alright?” she finally asked him, cutting into the silence. 

“I should be asking you,” he said, and offered her a soft smile.

She returned the gesture as best she could muster. They had been through so much these past months; no doubt they had both believed neither of them would survive. Yet here they were, walking together as though nothing had happened.

But the bruises, the scars, told another story.

Aira shook her head, gazing up into the sky. “I just couldn’t stay in there.”

He chewed the inside of his lip. “Why not?”

But Aira stopped in her tracks, breathed the cold deep into her lungs.

“Too loud,” Nyick said, but it wasn’t a question. 

She locked her eyes with his and nodded.

He sighed softly. “I know what you mean.”

She reached for the branches of the bush beside her, brushing the frost from the berries and pine needles absent-mindedly. “I was convinced I would be dead by now.”

“We knew it was going to be tough, Aira,” he said gently. “But we made it. That’s all that really matters.”

Again, she shook her head and turned to him. “That’s not what I meant, Nyick.”

He watched her intently, confusion creasing his brows.

“Every year, the winter grew harsher,” she said. “And every year, I thought I was going to die.”

A flash of understanding then, as he realised she was referring to her life living on the streets of Northmeadow. 

“But this year,” she said, and almost laughed in disbelief, “this year I knew it was time. As though I was ready to go.”

Nyick reached out a hand but hesitated, drawing back as he said, “But you’re alive.”

“Yes. But I can’t help but feel as though I shouldn’t be.”

He frowned, took a step closer. “Are you saying you wanted to die?”

“No!” she replied quickly. But then her eyes looked away. “No. At least … not anymore.”

She couldn’t be sure why she was telling him this, only that it had been circling her mind for months now and she needed to hear the words out loud. This winter - this cold and snow and ice they were standing in - should have been the last thing she would ever see. Last year, she had barely survived it, mostly in part because of Doyle. It only made sense to her this year would have been her last. 

Now, standing in front of Nyick, a man who had once spent two years trying to lock her away, it was the furthest thing from her imagination. 

“Becoming the Guardian saved my life,” she said with a shrug. Then laughed when Nyick scrunched up his nose and hummed. “Even though it still almost killed us!”

She batted his arm playfully and he chuckled. Then he pulled her towards him, looping their arms again as they continued to walk, snow crunching beneath their boots.

“For what it’s worth, I think I understand,” Nyick told her.

“You do?”

“A lot has happened the last few months, Aira,” he said. “So much has changed since you became the Guardian. And not just for you but for all of us. I, for one, never saw this coming.”

Aira grinned as he tilted his head towards her. “Us becoming friends?”

He laughed. “I’m not sure I could have stomached the thought.”

She rolled her eyes. “Charming.”

“My point is,” he continued with a playful glare, “your life changed in a way you never saw coming. You were ready to accept defeat. You were so sure you were going to die on those streets, and yet you’re here, alive, and nothing will ever be the same again. And I think that scares you.”

Aira winced.

Then, his voice turned sombre. “I thought, once I met Euna, that everything from that point onward was set in stone. I saw my life so clearly for the first time, with her by my side.”

She glanced up at him in silence, allowing him to speak.

“When she was taken away from me, everything changed.”

“And you were afraid,” Aira said gently.

“I was terrified.” He swallowed, fighting the crack in his voice. “And I masked it in anger and hatred. My future had been ripped away and become so uncertain. But my past, and even my present, no longer looked the same, either.”

“I’m so sorry, Nyick.”

He paused then, bringing them both to a stop. “What I’m trying to say is that Euna’s death changed me,” he said, and her brows knit together. “And you, living, has changed me again.”

Aira closed her eyes against the sting of tears, heart swelling in a way she never could have anticipated, and smiled.

“Maybe dying on the streets as a criminal was never your true destiny after all,” he said, and reached out a hand to push a loose strand of hair behind her ear. 

His fingers were cold, she realised, something she didn’t seem to feel as much as she once used to. “Here,” she said softly, and clasped her hands together. As they parted to reveal the veins of golden light against her palms, Nyick bent his head to get a closer look, mesmerised. “Give me your hands.”

He held them out and she wrapped her fingers around them. She watched the smile tug at the corners of his mouth as the fire beneath her skin warmed his own against the cold.

“Nyick?”

“Yes?”

“Do you think Ronan will come back?”

His eyes went to her’s, their hands locked in place, and after a moment he nodded. “I do.”

Aira looked out across the gardens. “I just wish I knew where he was.”

“Me, too.”

They began to walk again, watching the snow cascade gracefully around them, the silence a welcome reprieve from the endless madness that had ensued these past few months.

“You know, if nothing else, I’ve learnt that I am willing to die for many things,” Nyick suddenly said, feigned surprise in his voice.

Aira grinned. “I’m starting to think you have a death wish, Nyick Anders.”

He barked a laugh. “Me? What about you?”

“Oh, I’m not willing to die for anything.”

“How selfish of you.”

“Well, the way I see it, we’ll be ready to throw ourselves from a cliff any day now.”

Nyick bobbed his head from side to side. “I suppose that evens things out a bit.”