LAMB.

silly little fragile human, who are you to think you can love a MONSTER? ind. beaufort swan.

[bcaufort-blog]

edvthe.

         A veritable GIGGLE spills from her mouth when clumsy fingers brush against a dimple; his fascination with them will never cease to amuse and amaze the petite immortal.  Never has she been touched so softly — perhaps in life, her father had cared for so gently.  But no longer.  In her unlife, none has been like him.  He is beyond her expectations, and she LOVES HIM all the more for it.  “Just the usual.  You talked about your mother — something about Charlie and cooking?”  She is QUIET for a long moment.  “You — said that you love me again.”

        He was charmed —— always was, when it came to her. How could he not be? She was EVERYTHING IN THE WORLD and beyond it, and out of his league. By a lot. Giggles being endearing had never been a thought, to him, but he couldn’t help but indulge in the noise. Even as he felt a vague spark of embarrassment in his gut, low but still present. Talking in his sleep felt so very cliché, but it was something he couldn’t actually control. Trust him, he had tried. Various times. All after Edythe started announcing her presence in his room, naturally. ❝ I hope you weren’t surprised by that last one. Well, any of them, but that past one especially. ❞

[bcaufort-blog]

naldloshi.

@bcaufort

               Running around in the forest as another animal was invigorating to Matt. New sights, smells & sounds he had never heard before, the ability to run all day, he loved it. It was the one good thing that had come out of this mess. Coyote was his favorite form, by far, but after spending a few hours as an animal, he did start to miss two legs & clothing. He changed himself back & clothed before starting back towards the road. Only, he felt another presence there with him.

        Forests were all well and fine, green and full of nature and the like. There were none in Arizona ( obviously ) but plenty in Washington —— the problem with forests was the whole ROOTS AND BRANCHES EVERYWHERE, thing. It was a falling hazard that he tried to avoid but couldn’t, for the most part, considering the fact special places were hidden among the forest, and BOTH GROUPS he spent a fair amount of time around lived near, and practically in the forest. So he had to get used to the forest.

        Finding a complete stranger shifting was not something he was used to, however.

        Naturally that meant that as he was moving forwards, attempting to be something akin to subtle or sneaky to get a better look at the guy, his foot caught a root. And he fell. Face first. ❝ Awesome, ❞ voice low and annoyed and he wondered if he should feel mortified or abashed by the situation. He settled on a mix of the two.

[bcaufort-blog]

edvthe.

         “It’s — complicated.”

                     It’s not her story to tell.  For as ANGRY as she may be at Royal, she LOVES HIM BEYOND MEASURE nevertheless.  He is part of her heart, so dear to her she cannot bear it, meant for her in some small way.  They are too alike, she thinks, both too full of pride, too full of rage.  But her hatred burrows inward, feasting on its host, and his spills outwards, harming all those it makes contact with.  She resents him for hurting Beau, yes.  But she cannot pretend she does not UNDERSTAND.

                                   “He — he was not given the choice to become like us.  He wouldn’t have chosen this, and he resents you because he knows that you WOULD.”  Lips press together as she keeps her OWN thoughts on the matter quiet; he KNOWS how she feels.  But she shan’t hurt him with her disapproval right now.

        If there was one thing he didn’t quite understand, it was sibling affection —— how could he, after all? His mother had never been inclined to have another child outside of him, and has father had never shown any sort of desire to have another child, either. The only child. He had never minded. Figured that he PREFERRED IT, actually. And he still felt that way. Not quite understanding Edythe’s bond with her family wasn’t something that bothered him, per say. Logic stated that it was love that fueled affection for family, love that was deserved in one way or another. Maybe that was why Royal’s approval MATTERED TO HIM.

                                       It was exhausting. In part.

              ❝ Well —— it’s not like he can resent me forever, right? ❞ A beat, and he laughed, wry and feeling drawn and hating every moment of it. ❝ Never mind, I wouldn’t put it past HIM to hold a grudge against me for the rest of my life. ❞ Assumption that he would live as long as a vampire was made and he did not REGRET IT. She knew. She knew, just as he knew, what he wanted. He wouldn’t relent. He couldn’t.

[bcaufort-blog]

FRAGILE. like this for a starter!!

[bcaufort-blog]

edvthe.

@bcaufort

         “Try to ignore Royal.  He’s just — PIGHEADED.  To the extreme.”

   If her brother doesn’t back off { and soon! } she is going to have to INTERVENE.  Violently.  She shan’t mention as much at the moment; she knows Beau worries over such things, though there’s no REASON to it; she may not be able to match the blond in pure strength, but she does not FIGHT FAIR.  She never does, after all.

        He had never really thought of himself as the type to stress out over the idea of a significant other’s family NOT LIKING HIM, it was just another one of those teenage things that he didn’t consider to be on his level, so to speak. Being with Edythe, however, proved that many of his ( condescending, to be frank ) assumptions to have been false. There he was, stupidly in love, wanting nothing more than HER, wanting to be with her and hold her hand and kiss her dimples, reduced to a seventeen year old in love. And put off by the idea that one of his girlfriend’s brothers didn’t like him.

                   ❝ It’s not possible that his hatred for me grew after I survived almost becoming a vampire, is it? Before he just —— kind of scoffed at me and glared a bit. Now it’s like he’s glowering at me, all the time. ❞

[bcaufort-blog]

edvthe.

             “And if I could, I’m sure I’d enjoy waking up within your arms.”  Honesty from a monster, but she is gentle as a lover’s heart { she can hear his and, for all the suffering it may have caused her once, it is now naught but a comfort.  he is alive, it promises.  he is alive } and soft as one, as well.  She does not MIND spending the night beside him, sleepless or otherwise.  Pink lips curve, pale cheeks dimpling as she presses those tiers to his forehead.  “Sleep well?”

        Happiness unfurled at the base of his throat, roots stretching and looping and caressing his bones and displacing ( temporarily, always temporarily, was there such a thing as everlasting happiness? ) the WRONGNESS that had settled itself in his body when he was young. He touched one of her dimples, a fleeting brush and an absent gesture that was given nary a thought, and he couldn’t bring himself to be disquieted by it. ❝ I think so. You tell me, though. Did I say anything particularly embarrassing while I was asleep? ❞

[bcaufort-blog]

@edvthe.

            ❝ —— I think I like waking up with you in my arms, ❞ saying it aloud felt stupid and he was FLUSTERED by it, of all things, but there was no use in hedging around the truth. She knew, anyways. Of course she knew. His heart thudded and he loved her more with every beat, could feel everything that he felt for her grow with every breath he took.

[natalieweepoetry]

reasons to not kiss him: 1. you weren’t raised to love tender. 2. when he’s around all you do is tremble. when he’s around you want to get on your knees. look how much power he has over you. it’s dangerous. 3. he’s too good at forgiving and you’re too good at violence. 4. you know what they say about monsters. you know what happens to the boys who love them. are you going to do that to him? 5. your hands don’t know how to be gentle. think about the last beautiful thing that shattered in your palms. the fresh rosebuds crumbling between your fingers like a bruise. you wolf-boy, you war machine. you wouldn’t know how to hold something magic and not destroy it. 6. if you hurt him it might kill you 7. if you hurt him you might kill yourself. 8. you are very bad at rehabilitation. this is one addiction you’d fail to give up. he’s going to ruin you for all other kisses and all other boys and you’ll spend the rest of your life trying to forget his name. 9. you still aren’t sure he isn’t a dream. 10. if you kiss him, you might wake up.reasons to kiss him: 1. because he’s beautiful. 2. because he asked.  3. because he preceded please with, i’m not afraid of you.

yes & no // natalie wee (via wondersmithinc)

[ambientanonymous-deactivated201]

[bcaufort-blog]

YOU WRUNG YOUR BOYHOOD DRY FOR HER.

  “Surely your religious upbringing is not so lacking as to allow you to TRULY BELIEVE that.”

      And she finds herself UNFAIRLY ANGRY at him for something which is not his fault; such knowledge does little to banish her disapproval, her unhappiness.  He insists that she is better than she is, he insists that she is GOOD somewhere beneath the layer of unbreakable alabaster flesh and teeth made to cut skin like tissue paper.  His kindness blinds him to the reality of her cruelty, his love for her.  Self - hatred is heavy in her gut, sharp, reminding her that this is her fault, that she was so SELFISH as to keep him near and allow him to think her good.  

                   She notes his obvious discomfort, twisting brow and twitching hands, and ATTEMPTS to force the anger from her tone.  A CALM HEAD would serve her better, of this she is certain, but it is hard to keep herself anything but enraged when he insists she is something less than SIN INCARNATE.  They all are — murderers, their very BEING an offense to what God has made.  A shadow, a mockery of life, without beating heart or flowing blood, reborn to strip the weak of their breath, PERFECT PREDATOR.  She tries to sound calmer and, she hopes, succeeds.

            “I am a murderer, Beau.  There cannot be a more damning sin than that.”

                             If only he could see what the change made of them, perhaps he would be less EAGER to join their ranks.  She would give anything for him realize what he wishes to give up — Edythe believes in heaven and, far more, she believes in HELL.  And where else would such soulless creatures as they belong?

                                “Even if I had not killed countless, even if I had been as dedicated to GOODNESS as Carine, I am still a monster.  A monster who has willingly brought you into my world and let it hurt you.  I am horrifically selfish, Beau.  I wish you would realize that.”

        Rare as it was for him to end up tongue tied he felt as much, then and there. A whorl of thoughts swirled throughout his mind and it was both horrific and dizzying and he didn’t even know where to begin, where to grasp onto a thought. Hell, he hadn’t the slightest idea where one thought ended and another began. It all ran together in one confounding mass and he found himself frustrated by it, by his inability to calm his thoughts. For he, who had always had a certain level of vanity for his ability to think clearly and logically, for his maturity in almost all situations ( his sense of superiority likely caused his lack of friends at a young age but he didn’t care then, would never care ) could not manage the idea of NOT BEING ABLE TO THINK CLEARLY. Another thing that Edythe did to him.

        She was angry and he was irate and he wanted to smooth the anger off of her face. Wanted to kiss her until she smiled again, until her dimples dented at her cheeks and wanted to take the pain and anger from her eyes. He wanted to take her self hatred and take every last negative thing she had even felt, because he wanted her to be happy. Beau wanted to see her smile every day, wanted to see her laugh and be joyous and be so, so, utterly, divinely, stupidly happy. He wanted her to be radiant with it, wanted her to luxuriate in such cheer. That wasn’t possible, though. It would never be possible. Love couldn’t fix something like that.

                                         Maybe love couldn’t fix anything at all.

        “I don’t really believe in heaven or hell and I’m not religious in the least, but I chose to be here,” he said, stubborn and soft and hurting and pained to his very core because he was human. Nothing more than human. Fragile to a fault and so, so easy to break. His life was finite, unless he were to take that step ( if he could take that step, because Edythe was going to fight him EVERY STEP OF THE WAY and he could feel as much, ) and there was little he could do about that. He was breakable and had placed his heart in the hands of something that could be seen as a MONSTER.

                               Stupid boy.

        “It’s not like you dragged me into your world kicking and screaming, I chose to be here and I fought to be here and I fought against you to be here because I love you,” he continued, insistent and so, so tired. He loved Edythe with every fiber of his being, yet they could never see eye to eye on something so utterly essential and it made him want to cling onto the singular thing that ever made him feel CONNECTED to the world and, in some twisted way, it made him want to cut only a part of himself free. After all,  he could never really leave Edythe. "If you’re horrifically selfish, then so am I. And I’m lacking a survival instinct, apparently. But don’t undermine my choice to be here with you.”

[prosternacoes-deactivated201908]

{ Epidermide } by Enrica Brescia Photography on Flickr.

[winterfellis]

[bcaufort-blog]

winterfellis:

antonin dorbon

[bcaufort-blog]

Are you him? Human boy with porcelain skin with a rabbit paced heart who grew up too fast, too soon, who left childhood behind but not INNOCENCE. You, who is so in love with HER, that you can barely breathe around your love for her, which curls around your spine, your ribs, interwoven into your heart. You, who loves her so much that you would bare your throat to her. Or are you her? Girl turned abominable predator with no beating heart to be found, a hunter from lore, something that should not exist, monstrous thing. You, whose entire world is made up of HIM, each and every false breath you take is to see him. You, who is selfish enough to assume that you can keep him by your side, desperate enough to keep a tenacious grip upon your self control. Or maybe you are a bystander in this tale, and maybe you know that this cannot end in anything but UNADULTERATED TRAGEDY.

[bcaufort-blog]

YOU WRUNG YOUR BOYHOOD DRY FOR HER:

               He is right to fear his own death for her sake — though she wishes he would fear it for his own.  If he was gone from the world, how long could she last before she could stand it no longer, how long before she handed herself to the Volturi?  Forced their hand, made them rip her apart.  Her world has been grey and empty for so long and now, to have a taste of colour, of life, OF JOY — and to lose all that?  She is not sure that she could bear it.  She is certain that she cannot.  When { she refuses to think IF because she does not WANT to damn him to a life like this one no matter what archie says he sees } he dies, she will find a way to follow.  No matter what she must do, she will find it.

                                 As much as the ancient girl would like to keep him forever, she cannot.  Even for such a SELFISH MONSTER as she, there are things she will not indulge.  Things her morality, however weak it may be in regards to this boy, WILL NOT ALLOW.

                “It was terrible.  I begged God for release, for forgiveness.  Carine tells me that I screamed bits and pieces of prayers.  I couldn’t understand why I should be in Hell.”

        In life she had committed no great sins and she had paid her penance, given her confessions, regarding those minor ones she had.  Not as though she is a good person NOW, though.  What is she but a child playing a game of chicken — how FAR can she push?  Surely keeping him near is only putting him in far more danger, surely leaving would be better for the boy who has come to be her LIFE.  To act as though her unwillingness to turn him in any way makes her a GOOD PERSON is to fool herself — and she will not do it.  Her head dips, bronze hair falling over her thin shoulders and hiding her tortured expression from the other.  Words escape beneath her breath, soft and quick.

                                                          “If it was to happen now, I would certainly know why.”

        Neither his father nor his mother were religious in an active way, and he had never been baptized or gone through any formal religious process. When he was young he went to church a few times, because he was curious and his mother indulged his curiosity. He had found it admirable, but felt out of his depth in the face of such piety and faith ( and a touch of hypocrisy, now and then ) because he had never felt connected to much of anything, before her. He did not believe in the concept of hell or heaven but he didn’t not believe in them, either. He just didn’t subscribe to any singular belief system, because he never felt INCLINED to. The concept of hell, however, he could understand and comprehend and could picture in his mind.

        For all the things that he knew, and all the things that he didn’t know ( and loathed not to know ) he knew with ABSOLUTE CERTAINTY that Edythe did not belong in hell. In her human life or her vampire life, in any life that she could possibly live, if you were to accept reincarnation as a possibility. The thought was preposterous and he could feel metaphorical hackles raising at the suggestion.

        It seemed there were a few select, key things that they were on opposite sides on. One being his own safety and self preservation, and the other being Edythe as she was.

                      That was just love, though. Maybe. Under normal circumstances, maybe not.

                                            “Edythe——”

        Palms of his hands dragged against his thighs as they rubbed back and forth over the fabric of his jeans, and he could feel his face twitching, nose wrinkling and mouth curling. The sheer distaste that he felt at the idea of her belonging in hell, in any place that could bring her despair or could torture her, was monumental. It was, perhaps, greater than his distaste for anything. Again, he felt frustrated, and again he felt helpless in the face of her self-hatred, her lack of acceptance that she was SO MUCH MORE than she thought she was. They could go in circles about it, for ages and decades and centuries, perhaps. It was a never ending spiral and he hated it.

                       “You, of all people, don’t belong in hell, no matter what you think.”

[bcaufort-blog]

YOU WRUNG YOUR BOYHOOD DRY FOR HER:

@bcaufort

             “How do I explain the pain…?”

     As angry as she is at Archie for telling her beloved more about the transformation, more about the aching and the suffering, now that he is inquiring about it she does not feel right keeping him in the dark.  He has made it clear that he DESIRES to become like them — even after experiencing the small TASTE of the agony of the change that he had been forced to suffer through due to her own inadequacy.  Perhaps this shall frighten him away from WISHING TO BE A MONSTER, if nothing else.

                            “For me, it was — it was so terrible I believed myself to be in Hell.  Suffering eternally for my sins.  My family was a deeply religious one.  I spent a great deal of time imagining Hell — and it was unfathomably worse than ANYTHING I could have dreamt up.  It was so agonizing I could think of no other explanation but DIVINE TORTURE.”

        Fearlessness wasn’t a fathomable possibility by any stretch of the imagination. No one in the universe was fearless because there was always that one thing ( at least ) that sparked fear into a person. He never thought of himself as living without fear, because he had feared plenty of things from the time of his childhood. Perhaps that he feared the most as of RECENT HISTORY, however, had changed. Death. It was less about his own death ( because, as it were, death would come for everyone somewhere along the line ) than it was about the concept of what would be left behind. Beau did not consider himself vain, for the most part, but when he allowed himself to think about it he feared what Edythe would do when he died. Perhaps what he would do, if she died.

                         A world without Edythe wasn’t a world worth living in.

        Perhaps it was also the idea of being with her FOREVER that was so very compelling. It was the dream of all hopeless romantics who found themselves entangled in what felt like endless love. To be with your beloved until the end of time, never being separated by the finality of death.

        So there he sat, careful to put space between them because he knew well that it was a tender subject. She did not want him to become a vampire, he was willing to become one FOR HER. Heart thudded as she spoke, ongoing lub dub that resonated in his ears and he could feel it speed up as she spoke, could feel the palms of his hands digging into his thighs. Archie had told him that the change was awful, Edythe said that it was HELL. In a distant way, perhaps, he feared the pain, but it was so secondary to the idea of being with her. He supposed that his heart rate picking up was as a result of hearing of her in pain. He could barely stomach the idea of Edythe in pain, let alone hear about it.

        “That sounds —— awful.” There weren’t enough WORDS to describe it.

[bcaufort-blog]

YOUR SOUL IS TRAPPED IN YOUR PALMS:

           Her expression turns more serious, though her eyes are still alight with laughter that indicates the seriousness is for the sake of humor and little more.  For a moment, expression shifts to a soft smile once more when lips press to the smooth, cool skin of her neck, but when he pulls away she is, once more, comically deadpan.

                     “No — I’m afraid I haven’t yet managed to start any wars.  How UNFORTUNATE.”  A dramatic, mourning glance to the ocean.  “They only ever call me in to fight the wars, not to make them begin.  I’ll have to try harder just for you.”

                Considering his track record for attracting DANGEROUS CREATURES, starting a war for him is beginning to seem more and more like a distinct possibility.  Her brows furrow briefly, lips twisting, before she forces her expression to return to something more NEUTRAL.

        Irrational as it may have been he missed the smile on her face, but she was beautiful regardless of what her expression was. His smile, however, remained, face soft with affection and eyes bright with amusement. Fingers dug into the muscle at her shoulder, an absent movement, feeling along the ridge of bone as she spoke.

        “Starting a war just for me? That would be the most major thing anyone has ever done in my name,” he said, bemused and bending his knee, tapping at her thigh with his heel, just barely a tap. “Now that would be an honor, for sure.”

        Instinct told him to be more concerned about the idea of Edythe fighting in general, but he tamped it down because it was all HYPOTHETICAL. Sure, seeing Edythe fight was something panic inducing for the most part, because he hated the idea of her getting hurt, even though he knew she could handle herself. She could more than handle herself.

[bcaufort-blog]

STOKE THE SMOLDERING REMAINS OF YOUR HEART:

                                                                            @bcaufort

                                        the  SWEET  smell always  lingered  within the house  &&  even  faint  outside of it,  offering no  TRUE  safe haven for the  still  adjusting  newborn          no place where she could get away from the  TEMPTATION  of  murdering  her new family’s  pet.  &&  so she sits far as she dares for a little bit of a  BREATHER  before she feels they expect her back,  knees growing  WET  against the damp earth,  fingers dipped in the  cool  stream.                                           but  GOD  it doesn’t last  near  as long as she’d like before  STIFLING  SWEETNESS  rushes over her again  &&  ignites the everlasting  fire  in her throat.  she needed to hunt some of those  SHITTY  TASTING  deer  before she could  deal  with this  CRAP.  &&  she turns slightly,  breath catching in her throat for long as she can  MANAGE  before she must  speak,  voice  STRAINED.  “edythe isn’t  OUT  HERE.”  

        Approaching a newborn vampire that had questionable control and even more questionable morals wasn’t high on his list of good ideas, but he liked to live on the edge. Or maybe his sense of self preservation flew out the window when he started dating a vampire. One or the other, regardless of which reason was most likely, there he was, making a vague attempt to stand upwind, but if the Cullens were to be believed that didn’t help.

                       Never before in his life did he think that smelling good was a BAD THING.

        “Yeah, I figured. Alice said Edythe went hunting an hour ago so I was thinking that I could wait for her out here,” he tried his best to choose his words with care, speaking at a moderate pace and still standing apart from Bree. The shreds left of his self preservation instinct were screaming at him, because it was Not Safe to be around Bree without someone else nearby, but he squashed the thought. “If you don’t mind me waiting out here, anyway”