hey!! i just found your blog and iâm obsessed with how you write the volturi đâšđ would you maybe write something for alec? maybe headcanons about how he acts when he actually falls in love for the first time after centuries of not caring about anyone
Alec Volturi falling in love for the first time
âą Alec has spent over a thousand years feeling almost nothing but apathy, cold, calculated detachment. Emotions are for humans and newborns vampires. Then you appear, and for the first time in his immortal existence, something cracks inside his chest that he doesnât know how to handle it.
âą At first he doesnât even recognize it as love. He thinks itâs curiosity. Or maybe irritation. Why does he keep watching you? Why does his gaze linger when you speak? He tells himself itâs observation. Nothing more.
âą The first sign is protectiveness. Not the casual Volturi loyalty, but something fierce and personal. If anyone even looks at you too long, his gift flickers unconsciously, and it bothers him that he lets himself loose control.
âą He becomes painfully aware of his childlike appearance for the first time in centuries. He wants you to see him as ancient, powerful, worthy , exactly like the Volturi see him â not the eternal boy with the angelic face. He starts carrying himself differently around you, shoulders straighter, voice lower.
âą He gets jealous in silence. When you laugh at something Felix says or spend too long talking to Jane, his expression doesnât change, but the temperature in the room drops and a faint haze of his gift appears. Later he will deny it completely.
âą Touch is difficult for him at first. Centuries of distance make casual contact feel overwhelming. The first time you brush his hand, he freezes like he has been burned again. But he starts seeking it out, in obvious ways.
âą He becomes strangely gentle. He will carry your things without being asked. Adjust your chair. Stand between you and any perceived danger without explanation.
âą Internal conflict eats at him. Love is weakness. Aro could use it against him. Jane would see it as a distraction. But he canât stop. For the first time, he has something that belongs only to him, and the possessiveness terrifies even him.
âą He starts speaking more. Not a lot, but more than his usual few words. Quiet questions about your day, your thoughts, your favorite things from your human life. He listens like every word is precious information he is a toring away for eternity.
âą When he finally admits it (to himself, not you) it hits him like a blow.
âą His version of flirting is subtle and old-fashioned. He brings you rare books from the Volturi library. Leaves small gifts on your pillow, and honestly just wait for you to find them and then deny that he left it there.
âą He gets anxious when you are away too long. Not pacing or obvious, just quieter than usual, eyes distant, fingers tapping restlessly. When you return, the relief in his eyes is impossible to miss.
âą Physical closeness develops slowly. He lets you rest your head on his shoulder first. Then one night he pulls you into his lap without warning and simply holds you, face buried in your hair, breathing you in like he is afraid you will vanish.
âą Jane notices immediately. She teases him mercilessly in private, but she is also protective and jealous, the idea of her twin being in love is both amusing and concerning to her. Alec warns her to stay out of it.
âą He worries constantly about your mortality. The thought of watching you age and die makes him feel something dangerously close to panic. He push you to change and probably force it.
Alec Volturi x Vampire/Hybrid Reader (Gifted with Pyrokinesis)
You are entirely committed to destroying Alec's peace and quiet, but it seems the stoic guard is the only one who can make you behave.
Chaos announces itself this time with smoke.
Not thick, suffocating smoke, no, you have taste. This is thinner, curling lazily along the high ceilings of one of the Volturiâs private library halls, carrying the faint scent of something definitely not meant to be on fire.
Alec knows before he even steps inside.
He finds you standing on top of a long wooden table, several ancient scrolls pushed safely aside (credit where credit is due), while a small, controlled flame dances in the air above your palm like a living thing you are teaching tricks to.
âYou cannot possibly need this many dusty things,â you say to no one in particular. âIâm doing you all a favour, really. Streamlining.â
A nearby guard looks like he isnât sure whether to intervene or accept his fate.
Alec doesnât raise his voice.
He says your name.Â
The flame flickers.
You turn immediately, a bright grin already forming. âOh, there you are.â
Alecâs gaze shifts briefly to the faint scorch mark forming on the edge of the table. Then back to you.
âBehave.â
You look down at the fire in your hand, then back at him.
âI am behaving.â
The flame flares slightly, as if in protest.
Alec steps closer. âYou are standing on a table.â
âElevated perspective,â You say easily.
âYou are holding fire in a library.â
âItâs controlled.â
âYou said that last time.â
âAnd I was right,â You shoot back.
Alec stops at the edge of the table, looking up at you, not impressed, not angry. Unwavering.
The guard in the corner visibly relaxes now that Alec has arrived, though he does not dare leave.
You tilt your head down at Alec, studying him like you are deciding how much trouble you want to be in today.
âAre you going to make me get down?â you ask.
âYes.â
You smile wider. âOr?â
Alec doesnât blink. âOr I will come up there and remove you myself.â
That, predictably, delights you.
âIâd like to see that,â you say.
Alec moves. Fast enough that the air barely has time to notice.
One moment, he is below you. The next, he is standing on the table. Close. Very close.
The flame in your hand wavers, not from fear, but from the sudden shift in your focus.
âOh,â you say softly, amused. âYou did come up here.â
Alec doesnât indulge your tone.
âPut it out,â he says.
You glance at the flame again, then back at him. âMake me.â
Alec exhales slowly through his nose. This again.
He reaches out, not to grab you, not to force anything, but to close his fingers loosely around your wrist.
Not restricting.Â
Grounding.
Your fire reacts instantly, shrinking, flickering uncertainly. Not extinguished.Â
Just⊠listening.
âYou are testing limits that do not belong to you,â Alec says quietly.
You hold his gaze. âAnd youâre stopping me,â you repy, just as softly.
âYes.â
The room feels smaller. The guard in the corner has gone completely still.
Your expression shifts, not losing its brightness, but softening at the edges where only Alec ever gets to see.
âYou always do,â you murmur.
Alec doesnât deny it.
The flame flickers once more. Then goes out. Just like that.
Silence settles back into the library, heavy and immediate.
Alec releases your wrist.
âDown,â he says.
You make a face, but step off the table anyway.
âThat was harmless,â you mutter.
Alec steps down after you, adjusting nothing, as if he had never been out of place at all.
âThat is not the standard,â he replies.
You glance sideways at him as you both start towards the exit.
âYour standards are very strict.â
âThey are effective.â
You huff a quiet laugh.Â
âYou like me anyway,â you say.
Alec doesnât look at you.
âYes.â
Immediate. Certain.
That earns him a softer smile.Â
You slip your hand into his without asking.Â
He lets you.
You walk in silence for a moment before you speak again.
âIf I set something on fire later,â you say casually, âyouâll come find me again, right?â
Alecâs grip tightens just slightly.
âI always do.â
You seem satisfied with that.
âGood,â you say.
Then, brighter, âIâll try to make it interesting.â
Hey! i really love your twilight content đ could you share some headcanons about alec volturi? anything you have is fine â his personality, how he acts around the other volturi members, what he does in his free time, modern world stuff, or even soft/angsty headcanons. iâm obsessed with him lately hehe
Alec Volturi Headcanons
âą Alec is calm and soft-spoken. He rarely raises his voice â even when he is about to strip someone of all their senses. That quiet politeness makes him more unsettling than the loud ones.
âą He is deeply pragmatic. Emotions are secondary, loyalty and efficiency come first. Jane is the only person who can make him visibly react.
âą Dry, subtle sense of humor. He could make a quiet, almost polite observation about someone impending torture that sounds innocent until you realize how savage it is.
âą Around the Volturi members his personality doesnât change much, to be honest. He is still Alec.
âą With Aro he shows a complete respect and obedience, but there is also a slight detachment. Alec knows Aro uses them as weapons and is fine with that role.
âą When it comes to Jane itâs different. Slightly. They are a unit, communicate with glances and small gestures. If Jane gets too excited with her gift, Alec is the one who quietly reins her in or covers for her.
âą With Felix abd Demetri he is just polite. Alec is not one for friends. They work well together on missions. Alec finds Felix brute strength useful and Demetri tracking impressive, but he keeps emotional distance.
âą In his free time, when he doesnât have any duty or mission, he reads a lot â mostly history and philosophy. Old books calm him.
âą Likes sitting on high places (rooftops, towers) just watching the world. The silence and distance appeal to him.
âą Occasionally plays chess with Jane or Caius. He is not competitive because he is terrifyingly good at strategy games.
âą He hates modern stuff. You wonât catch Alec with a video game or phone or any of that.
âą He is into classical music and refuses to listen to any modern one.
âą Finds social media bizarre and distasteful. He once watched Felix scroll through it and just said âWhy are they all screaming?â in the most deadpan voice.
âą He still has memories of being human âthe trauma, the fire⊠He is deeply traumatized and his emotional detachment comes from that.
âą Secretly likes when people are brave. He wonât admit it, but someone who doesnât beg or scream holds his interest longer.
âą Has a very small protective streak toward certain humans who remind him of who he and Jane could have been if they hadnât been burned as witches. He usually ends up ending them quickly and painlessly if he can.
âą When Jane is in a rare soft mood, they sit together in silence for hours. Itâs the closest he gets to feeling peace.
âą He knows he and Jane were children when turned and that Aro exploited that. He doesnât resent it exactly, but there is a quiet emptiness about it. Sometimes he wonders how it would have been to be a normal teenager.
âą The idea of finding his mate terrify him, being so emotionally tied to someone feels dangerous after centuries of relying only on Jane.
Alec returns to the castle from his mission. You are waiting for him, ready to tell him how much you missed him.
The castle doors open without ceremony.
They always do.
No grand return, no announcement, just the quiet shift of guards stepping aside as Alec Volturi walks back in, untouched, composed, exactly as he had left.
Missions rarely change him.
That was the point.
He moves through the halls at a steady pace, already shedding the remnants of it.Â
The tension, the purpose, the distant focus.Â
It would settle back into stillness soon enough.
It always does
UntilâŠ
âALEC.â
The shout cracks through the corridor like lightning.
He didnât have time to react.
You collide into him at full force.
Not an attack. Not even close.
An impact of pure momentum and zero restraint. Arms wrapping tightly around him, nearly knocking him a step back as you cling to him like you have no intention of ever letting go again.
âYouâre back,â you say, breathless, like youâve been holding it for hours. âYouâre actually back.â
Alec goes still for half a second.
Then, his arms come up automatically, steadying you before you could lose your balance.
âI said I would return,â he replies.
âYeah, well,â you mutter into his shoulder, tightening your grip, âpeople say things all the time.â
Your voice isnât loud.
That alone told him everything he needed to know.
Alec glances down at you.
You didnât even try to pretend otherwise, face pressing against him, fingers curling into the fabric at his back, as if he might disappear again if you loosen your grip.
âYou were gone for three days,â you add.
âIt was two,â he corrects.Â
âFelt like five.â
âThat is not how time works.â
âShut up.â
Thereâs a beat.
Your hold tightens again.
âI missed you,â you say, quieter now.
Simple.
Unfiltered.
No chaos. No teasing.
Just truth.
Something in Alec shifts.
Not visibly, but enough.
âI was not in danger,â he says.
âI know that.â
âThen there was no cause for concern.â
âI didnât say I was concerned,â you scoff, pulling back just enough to look at him. âI said I missed you. Different thing.â
He studies your face.
There was faint signs of restlessness, like youâd been pacing, waiting, burning off energy with no-where to put it.Â
But, your eyes were steady.
Focused on him.
âYou did not remain occupied,â he observes.
âI tried,â you say. âJane got annoyed at me after, like, a day.â
(Which was, honestly, impressive.)
âAnd the rest?â
You shrug. âEverythingâs less interesting when youâre not here.â
Alec raises a brow slightly.
âThat is unproductive.â
âItâs honest.â
Before he could respond, you step forward again, this time slower, and wrap your arms around him once more.
Not crashing into him.
Choosing it.
Your cheek rests against his chest, your grip firm but less desperate now.
Grounded.
Alec hesitates for only a moment this time.
Then, his hand settles against your back.Â
Steady. Deliberate.
âYou are very attached today,â he says.
âMhm.â
âThat could be considered a weakness.â
âOr,â you counter, voice muffled slightly, âa very good reason for you to come back.â
He pauses, then shifts his hand slightly against your back, a small, absent movement, almost a reassurance.
âI would return regardless,â he says.
âYeah,â you reply softly. âBut now youâve got someone waiting.â
Silence stretches between you.
Not empty.
Heavy.Â
But comfortable.Â
You pull back just enough to look up at him again, your usual spark returning, but softer around the edges.
âYou smell like outside,â you say suddenly.
Alec blinks once.
âThat is accurate.â
âI like it.â
âThat is irrelevant.â
âNothing about me is irrelevant,â you shoot back automatically.
He pauses again.Â
âThat is also accurate,â he admits.
Your grin breaks through then; bright, chaotic, familiar.
âI missed you.â
âI was gone for two days.â
âStill counts.â
You couldnât help yourself, âDid you at least think about me while you were gone?â
Alec looks at you.
Really looks.
âYes,â he says.
No hesitation.
That caught you off guard.
âOh.â
Your expression softens, genuine, a little surprised.
âGood,â you say, quieter now.
Then, just as quickly, the chaos slips back in.
âBecause I definitely thought about you. A lot. Like, an unreasonable amount. It was borderline embarrassing.â
Alec Volturi x Vampire/Hybrid Reader (Gifted with Pyrokinesis)
Alec is on guard duty, but that doesn't stop you from trying to get to know him.
If there was one thing the Volturi valued above power, it was order.
And if there was one thing you seemed personally committed to destroying, it was Alecâs ability to have a quiet shift.
âYou donât talk much, do you?â
Alec did not break stride.
âNo.â
You kept pace beside him anyway, hands clasped behind your back, walking half a step too close and entirely too loudly for a place built on silence.
âIs that, like, a rule? Or a personality trait?â
âA preference.â
âBoring.â
A flicker of amusement touches Alecâs expression, but only briefly. âYou are not required to be here.â
âAnd yet,â you say brightly, âI am.â
He turns down another corridor. You follow immediately.
âI am on duty,â he adds.
âYeah, I gathered that from the whole âintense brooding patrol walkâ thing youâve got going on.â
âIt is not,â
âIt is,â you cut in, pointing at him. âVery dramatic. Ten out of ten. A little intimidating. I respect it.â
Alec stops walking.
You take two more steps before realising, then pivot back to face him, grinning like youâd just won something.
âYou stopped,â you say.Â
âYes.â
âBecause of me?â
âYes.â
âProgress.â
Alec stares at you.
âYou are a distraction.â
âThank you,â you grin.Â
âThat was not a compliment.â
âIt is in my world.â
He resumes walking.
You fall into step instantly.
âOkay, serious question,â you continue, undeterred. âWhat do you actually do on these patrols? Because from what Iâve seen, itâs a lot of walking and glaring.â
âWe ensure order is maintained,â Alec responds.Â
You nod thoughtfully. âSo⊠walking and glaring.â
âAnd observing.â
âOooh,â you say, impressed. âMulti-tasking.â
A guard at the end of the hall straightens as you both approach.
You wave.
The guard does not wave back.
âYour co-workers are weird,â you stage-whisper.
âThey are not my co-workers.â
âThey absolutely are.â
âThey are subordinates.â
âThatâs even worse.â
Alec ignores that.
You turn another corner, deeper into the quieter parts of the castle. Fewer torches. Fewer people.
You glance around, then lean in closer.
âDo you ever get bored?â you ask.
âNo.â
âThatâs a lie.â
âIt is not.â
You study his face, searching. âYou donât look bored,â you admit. âYou just look⊠permanently unimpressed.â
âThat is accurate.â
You laugh.
A small spark flickers at your fingertips, absentmindedly, restless. It dances there as you talk, rising and falling with your energy.
Alec notices.
âControl,â he says without looking at you.
âI am controlling it.â
The flame pops slightly, growing an inch taller.
Alec stops again.
You groan. âOh, come on, that was barely anything.â
âIt is unnecessary.â
âItâs expressive.â
âIt is fire.â
âDetails.â
He turns to face you fully now, his presence settling over the space like a quiet weight.
He says your name.Â
You still.
The flame dims.
âFocus,â he says.
You hold his gaze for a second, then sigh dramatically.
âFine.â
The fire vanishes.
âThank you.â
âYouâre welcome,â you mutter, then brighten immediately. âOkay, next question, how old are you, actually? Because youâve got this whole âancient vampire teenagerâ thing going on, and I need numbers.â
Alec blinks once.
âNo.â
âNo?â
âNo.â
âNot even a range?â
âNo.â
âRude.â
He resumes walking.
You follow.
âAre you always this difficult?â you press.
âYes.â
âI like that.â
âI am aware.â
You grin sideways at him. âYouâre getting used to me.â
âI am tolerating you.â
âSame difference.â
âIt is not.â
âIt is to me.â
Silence grows.
ThenâŠ
âDo you like anything?â You ask suddenly.
Alec glances at you. âExplain.â
âLike, anything. Food, obviously not. Sunlight, also no. Hobbies? Interests? Secret passions? Do you, like, collect things? Read? Judge people recreationally?â
âI do not judge people recreationally.â
You give him a look. âYou absolutely do.â
âThat is not a hobby.â
âIt is if you enjoy it.â
Alec exhales softly.
âDo you intend to continue this?â he asks.
âOh, definitely.â
âFor how long?â
You beam.
âUntil you tell me something real about you.â
Thereâs a pause.
âYou have not stopped talking,â he points out.
âAnd yet, you havenât made me leave.â
That was true.
Alec slows slightly, not enough to be obvious, but enough that you donât have to match his pace as carefully.
âI am working,â he says.
âYeah,â you reply, softer now. âI know.â
For once, your voice didnât fill the entire corridor.
It stays close. Contained.
âDoes it bother you?â you ask, âMe being here.â
Alec looks ahead.
âNo.â
You blink, surprised.
âReally?â
âYes.â
A small smile tugs at the corners of your mouth.
âCool,â you say quietly.
The silence that follows isnât forced this time.
It stretches between you, not empty, just different, comfortable.
what are your favorite photos of the Volturi? specifically bts stuff! I think that photo of Demetri in your {vanish into you} is my favorite hehe I just love the coloring and his hair đ€
I love bts pics of the Volturi, but i gotta agree the one picture you are talking about is *muah* chefs kissđ€đ». (I remember how i said in the past that scene where that picture comes from makes me think of a victorian man seeing a women's ankle, that small exposure of chest! they knew what they were doing making him look like that)
But here are some of my favorite pics!
Not all of these pictures are mine, these are mostly ones i have pinned in pinterest or ones I think of when i think Volturi
ABOUT: When your friend Leonardo Da Vinci finally captures and chains the Monster of Italy, you - the former secret courtier of Count Girolamo Riario - are tasked with providing relief, certainty, and love in a time of overwhelming apprehension. Inspired by the "I Tried So Hard" Riario edit on YT. [ riario x fem!reader. big big angst, hurt/comfort ]
TW: Mentions of/allusions to suicide, violence, & murder, biggg religious angst
WORD COUNT: 2.8k
A/N: I simply cannot get enough of this man. He's a badass pious freaky passionate mf and I just HAD to get the essence of this video and song in writing. No joke I am sooo in love with Blakey, especially when he's playing Riario. The thought of him melts my heart. Hope you enjoy :)
DISCLAIMER: The gif is not mine!
~~~
A man with stringed hair awakens you late at night. In the darkness, you immediately recognize him as your closest confidante, Leonardo Da Vinci. Where you lay sleeping, he grabs your shoulder and shakes you until you rise, grumbling and wiping your eyes with tingling fingers.
"Good Lord, Leo," you remark, your voice an uncharacteristic drawl. "What's the hour? What's happened now? Is it the Turks?"
"No," Leo answers quickly. "I - please be quiet, we needn't wake the whole of Florence - I've got the killer."
You straighten, jaw dropping, eyes peeling wide. For a moment, you stare at him in disbelief. Even in the light of a single golden candle aflame in the corner, his brown eyes twinkle as they always have. You tilt your head to the side, a strange smirk crawling to your lips.
"Pulling my leg?" you ask, heart rate quickening. You pray the answer is yes, but at the same time, you want badly for this horror to be over.
Leo shakes his head, staring at you with his usual unflinching directness. "Not in the slightest. You really think I'd joke about something like this? After all the bodies piled up in the Vatican? If I'd known how disastrously you underestimate me, Y/n, I -"
"You really have him?" you ask, reaching for his sleeve with a trembling hand.
Leo steadies you with a single palm pressed firmly to your shoulder. He nods. "Indeed. I have him chained in the upper section of my workshop." You move to rise from your bed, but Leo holds you down. "Y/n... you should know that he... he's someone you would not have believed capable of these crimes. But he isn't himself. He is ill, poisoned of the mind. I am doing all I can to heal him."
Frightened by his sincerity, you nod. "Take me to him."
But nothing could have prepared you to look upon the Monster of Italy in the flesh.
It is him. The man for whom your heart has longed. The man for whom your soul has ached, for as long as you can recall.
Girolamo Riario sits against a pillar near the stone wall of Leo's workshop, his sleeping figure slumped in a white stream of moonlight through the window above. He is covered in dirt and blood you doubt is his own, muscular frame draped in a dark gray tunic, ripping at the seams. His black hair is ruffled, wild to shield his sharp facial features. He is vulnerable, defenseless, and his arms are bound by dark metal chains. A stream of what looks like blood trails below his closed eyes.
At the sight of him, your knees buckle. You drop to the floor, hands covering your parted lips, eyelids fluttering as your mind attempts and fails to grasp the reality of what you're seeing. Girolamo twitches after your movement, but does not wake. Your eyes blur with tears. It cannot be him.
"Leo," you plead in a whisper, "tell me... tell me it's not..."
Leo places a warm hand on your upper back. He says nothing.
Reaching for the man you always believed to be your soulmate, you dissolve in silent tears on the floor of Leonardo's workshop.
~~~
At Leonardo's insistence, Girolamo begins to remember things he wishes - oh, he prays to God Almighty - never took place. He remembers things he wishes more than anything to forget.
Leonardo's antidote has taken hold, for the temporary. But a shadow still lurks in the back of Girolamo's mind. A temptation, a quiet poking. A whisper from the darkness. A laugh, a chuckle. He turns away from it, back to the light where Leonardo tells him of all the people that very shadow has killed. Girolamo begins to feel as if all the world has crumbled around him. The very thought of God has been manipulated into a vessel of evil.
"My heart," he says to his old nemesis, "must be so black." A single tear slips down Girolamo's blood-streaked cheek. "My soul so riven with cruelty. I..." A lump catches in his throat, but he speaks anyway. "I cannot be saved."
Leonardo falls to his rear before Girolamo. Cocks his sly, intelligent head to the side. "You saved me," he responds. "And I know someone who may be able to save you in return... should my devices fail."
Girolamo's eyes, a gray-stricken green, widen. His head falls back against the pillar, warm skull meeting cold stone. He shakes his head, tears blurring his vision. "No," he whispers. "You cannot. I will... I will ruin her."
A faux smile, an expression of pity and rebellion, overtakes Leonardo's face. "She is the only other person in Florence who knows the truth. And she is not ruined. Not yet."
Girolamo scoffs, looking up to the window, glass glowing and fogging in a distant hum of daylight. He swallows hard, thoughts drifting to you. Such a beauty, such a delicate wonder he has known only in the form of Y/n. God granted him a love to absolve him of his sins, and instead of take the opportunity, he has thrown you away. And for what? The flimsy excuse that he was protecting you? Such a small, unfeeling lie rips away at the most tender part of his heart - what is left of it, a single blackened organ beating a death march in the prison of his chest. He has given you up, and yet you remain. An angel as pure as starlight to rival the unforgivable devilry of his sins.
"While you rested," Leonardo continues, "I brought her here. To see you. I feared she might not surpass the shock of your identity."
Riario turns to look at him once more, eyes glistening with a fresh wave of grief.
"She fell to the floor and wept," Leonardo explains. His face is stony and calm, but not without his own fair share of emotion. "Mumbling Giro, Giro, over and over again. Words on the edge of her breath I have not the strength to repeat. She started to pray when she saw you here, raised her hands up to God and pleaded that you be spared, if at any cost." He pauses, takes a shaky breath. "You must know I have never seen her pray, not in all my life."
Girolamo swallows and says, "The Holy Father threw her from the Vatican's services because she refused to pray." Against the heavy weight in his heart, he smiles. "I despised her lack of faith, but I admired her dedication to truth."
Leonardo nods. "She is truly a force," he agrees. "When I tried to pry her from the floor an hour later, she slapped me away. Said God had not yet answered her prayer."
Girolamo straightens against the pillar. He listens earnestly for every sign of you he can process.
The artista shakes his head, finally smiling. "She finally stood up after the sun rose, this very morning. I asked her if God had answered, and she walked out of the room. Not a moment later, Riario, and you awoke with lucid words in your mouth. Even now, I'm tempted to believe it was a miracle."
"Miracle," Girolamo repeats, exhaling sharply. He looks down at the flesh of his forearms, at the deep scars just visible beyond the edges of the metal cuffs. He had felt so hopeless then, so directionless. As if all the world had gone dark.
But in this room, you collapsed on the floor and prayed for perhaps the first true time in your life. And it had been for Girolamo's saving.
He feels unworthy... but his heart has broken free of the darkness.
"I must see her again," Girolamo finally says to his old nemesis. "I am in no position to ask for favors, but..."
The artista smiles. "You need not ask."
~~~
Your hands sweat as you wring them together. Dressed in your best looks, you believe yourself still not enough. Still not adequate. Still not prepared and ready.
Leo leads you up the creaking wooden steps, up to the room where your lover sits chained to a stone pillar like a common thief. You think of him and your eyes are already wetted with tears - blinking furiously, you push away your grief and sorrow. You must face him with dignity, courage, and grace.
After all, he may have left you alone, but he kept his promise. He did it to protect you. And should you have been at his side in Rome earlier this month, you'd have surely been strung up on the walls of the Vatican with your innards hanging out for every pious man to see. Girolamo may have broken you, but he saved you nevertheless from a much worse fate.
You owe it to him now at least to listen. To listen and to care. If you cannot forgive, then you must at least understand.
Before you cross the threshold, Leo turns back and looks deep into your eyes. He knows. He asks you a silent question.
You nod. Then you take a breath and step inside the workshop.
When he sees you, his dry lips part. His eyes, a beautiful green speckled with stormy gray, go wide. His chest ceases all movement - he is holding his breath. Speechless, breathless, in shock. In awe.
You purse your lips, blinking away the tears as they return stronger.
"Y/n," Girolamo whispers. You had forgotten the tender passion of his voice, had only been able to recall it in the wild fantasy of your dreams. Now, you realize your dreams are nothing against the truth of his tone. "I feared you had... you had forgotten me."
Forgotten him? You haven't lived a single day free from the mere thought of him. The sacred memory of his deepest love. His gentle touch, his warm flesh, his heart beating like lightning whenever you were near. The way he spoke to you, the way he caressed you in the moonlight, the way he would kiss and worship every inch of you like you were made of crystal. His smile, his soft laugh, his breath on yours like a fresh breeze from the sea. The way his eyes would sparkle when he looked at you, like you were Donatello's masterpiece.
When you speak, you are unable to shake the crackle from your voice. "One does not simply forget that which changes the course of their entire life," you tell him.
Girolamo bites his lip, face scrunching as he tries to shield his hurt from you. "I tried," he confesses in a broken plead. "I tried so hard... Y/n... I only wanted to keep you from harm's reach. That was my... dearest... intent."
Your heart breaks all over again. He truly means it.
You step forward. He straightens against the pillar. Your eyes scan his form, every visible part of the man you love. He awaits your word, your decision. The loving care you came to bestow upon him. The affirmation of your affections. Unshed tears sparkle in his eyes, just as you remember.
Finally, you speak. "Lock the door," you say to Leo, though your gaze never leaves the man chained before you.
"Y/n," Leonardo argues, "we don't yet know if the antidote took its full effect. I cannot let you -"
"If you wish to keep him chained like a dog," you snap, "then you must chain me as well. He is of clear mind... at least for now." You turn to Leo, staring deep into his brown orbs. "Please. Grant me this one peace. Grant him this one mercy."
Leo hesitates. Then, with a single stiff nod, he steps beyond the threshold, doorknob in hand. He disappears a moment later, the door clicking behind him.
Once he is gone, you realize truly that you are alone with Girolamo.
You say nothing - at least not yet. You cannot manage words while your heart longs so relentlessly to offer care to your lover. Keeping your eyes away from him, you retrieve the keys from the table by the locked door. You approach Girolamo once more, and this time allow your gaze to meet his.
"You need not free me," he says in a near-whisper. "I know very well what I have done. What I am capable of."
You hesitate for a moment, then shake your head and drop to a kneel next to Girolamo. Your fingers work at his cuffs, where the key finds its place. A click, and the cuffs slide off his wrists.
"They may call you a monster," you tell him softly, taking the cuffs and placing them to the side, "but I see no real reason to fear you."
He gazes at you, stares deep into your eyes and into your soul. Lays his head back against the pillar as he watches you hold back yet another wave of tears. In quiet restraint, you reach for one of his hands. When your fingers graze his skin, he flinches for a fraction of a moment, as if frightened his touch will hurt you. But you do not fear him - your heart burns brighter in his proximity. You take his hand in yours, flipping his arm to trace the lines of his open palm.
You had not seen his scars.
"Girolamo," you breathe, heart rate rising, "what happened to you?"
He glances down at the inside of his wrist, green-gray orbs glistening with a waterfall of emotion. You wish you had not asked, but you need to know. You need to know the truth.
"I thought," he tells you under his breath, "I might have been able to save the world. From myself. That if I..." He holds back a sob. "If I removed myself from existence, that God might forgive me. I hoped you would hate me for leaving... enough that you would be exempt from the pain of losing me."
His words are the purest, most honest of any he has ever spoken. You can feel it in your bones, and it breaks you. It cuts you deeply, rips you apart in an anguish you have not the strength to name.
You lean down and press your lips to his scar, once a fatal wound, now a thick red line across the inside of his wrist. It still tastes of blood. Of despair.
"I could have helped you," you say to him, meeting his eyes as you raise yourself up again. "If you had only let me."
Girolamo raises his free hand to your face, and met with the warmth you have missed for years, you lean into his touch. Your eyes flutter shut, like the wings of a bird that has flown for far too long. Girolamo pulls you closer, and your forehead presses to his. You can feel the desperation, feel the heat, smell the sea breeze on his breath. After all this time, he is still yours.
"I needed to keep you safe," he says. His thumb brushes over your bottom lip, a comfort you know will only last for so long.
"I would have found absolution for you," you tell him. "I would have traveled to the ends of the earth to help you find your salvation. To keep you from turning your back on life. I would have done anything to keep you with me." Your words catch in your throat. "Why did you keep this from me, Giro? Of all truths?"
He caresses your face just the way he used to. You open your eyes to find him searching you for every fragment of love he can get. "I did not want you to hurt," he answers simply, words broken by emotion.
You raise your hands to his face and press your lips to his, a desperate search to quell the longing within both of you. He responds instantly, wrapping his unchained arms around you, pulling you deeper into his safe embrace. He tastes of salt and pine - you dive into him, finding comfort in his presence now. His fingers twist in your hair, tugging gently on strands of you, remembering things long forgotten in the shadow of the past. Memories of wild embraces in the dark of night, sinful screams wrapped in the soft silk of Giro's bed, clutching each other with a vicious passion no one on earth has known. He has worshipped you as an angel sent from God, and you have revered in him, sought him as a permanent state of peace in the chaos of your life. In him, you have found hope and meaning. The pursuit of an impossible dream, an impossible happiness. The wide-eyed wonder of what it means to be truly loved.
As you pull away, lips yearning for more, you speak softly to him. "I hurt no longer," you say, "because I have you at my side."
His eyes are rivers, but he smiles against the sorrow.
If you only have this one chance, you will do your best to keep this love intact. It is your greatest wish.
Because I studied landscape architecture for a while I was curious how many floors the Volturi home could be, considering itâs built underneath the current Volterra city and was started being built in the Etruscan era. Unfortunately I did not have access anymore to arcgis so everything is based on free access maps, articles and pictures of the city. That I went there last may helped too.
The map
There would be three entrances and because of the sewers, the first floor would start at least 3 or 4 metres deep. The soil is mostly clay but the hill is made out of sand and calcarenites. Structures in clay tend to fall apart, so I kind of believe the volturi structure would almost only exist in the sand section. Which is btw still around 75 metres thick... lots of possibilities. I added the necropolis as well because that is where the Etruscans buried their dead. There are also tunnels and tombs there, so why wouldn't the kings have built a tunnel there? If you want to know how Etruscan structures look like underground: I found a website that has pictures. This is where our beloved volturi vampires live.. maybe they structured it a bit more over the centuries. Adding libraries and training grounds with a bit of fantasy. Here is a website that shows how the acropolis looked like if you are interested.
The entrances:
And then I was also looking for good spots for the entries of their home. The palazzo is a tourist spot, a town hall and has no basement, not quite ideal! Here are my suggestions:
Not the main entry but a way for the Volturi lower guards to leave the main area and guard the city easily. A restaurant showcased an archeological site underneath their floor. Itâs supposed to be an old path and entry to a house from the Etruscan era. What if several houses are owned by the volturi that have such entries? Guards could easily leave the underground area to guard the city. Most houses had basement floors that were clearly unused. Of course there canât be too many or they would have a risk with so many entries.
There is an archaeological site on the hill where the remains lie of the acropolis. Many parts were closed off because, according to the information there, you could fall down several metres deep. Itâs deep and they cannot explore it because of the vulnerability of the rocks. What if one of these are an official entry for guard duties? They simply need to jump or climb and open it. At night there are no humans around and there arenât street lamps around either. (Ignore my shoes lol)
Just outside of the walls I found a war monument. Itâs a bit of a quiet spot with a beautiful view, you can see a lot of the area there. There is a sewer underneath those tiles and it seems to go pretty deep. I was thinking this could be a modern entry for an older tunnel they had built. And this would be the official known entry for other covens to visit the Volturi. Just like in the books, they would have to walk through a sewer, or climb down a tunnel inside the sewer. Bonus: itâs big enough for Felix to enter :)
Other important notes:
In the books and the movies the throne room is built in the tower. That is impossible if you would use Volterra as how itâs really built. Instead, the throne room would be ancient and deep underground. Etruscan writings on the walls and definitely Etruscan structures. In that case; Bella, Edward and Alice would be led into a secluded area where no light or air would ever come. Aka, Bella wouldnât be able to breathe there and die before she would even get close to arriving there. Cough, cough, dusty kings.
Same goes for the queens. There is no tower big enough to have a room. You could have them live in one of the houses but I would say the kings keep them in a secluded room somewhere deep underground⊠poor women.
As for Heidiâs tour: I have found abandoned buildings in the Volterra area. It is technically possible for a tunnel to be built leading towards the city. Several archeologists in articles have explained that the Etruscans were constantly building tunnels of which most are not yet found. Realistically, I would say they have a space built underground just outside the city, leading a tunnel towards that. The humans get eaten there and their bodies are disposed of or destroyed at the abandoned building. No accid needed! In the modern times I would think Heidi has them killed in the abandoned building, has guards put their blood in pretty jars and bottles and then delivers those to every guard and the kings. With so much surveillance and technology nowadays she maybe even just orders blood or they own blood banks..
Additional
There is so much information available about the Etruscans and their structures. I bought books and I haven't read everything yet. Most of the knowledge is gone so there is so much we don't know. Several articles have stated that there are structures beneath the city of Volterra we will never find or get access to! It is super interesting. I haven't even talked about the amfi theatre⊠If someone wants to add their thoughts or knowledge, please do!
Used sources
My own pictures from my visit there.
Books I bought there:
Volterra miniguide history, monuments and art
Guidorama The Etruscans
Guidorama Volterra
Websites:
Access to the section for consulting the available cartography.
Gemiddelde hoogte: 228 m ⹠Volterra, Pisa, Toscane, 56048, Italië ⹠Visualisatie en delen van gratis topografische kaarten.
Topographic Map of Volterra, Pisa, Italia. Elevation, latitude and longitude of Volterra, Pisa, Italia on the world topo map.
the discovery of a Roman amphitheater in Volterra is getting seriously exciting. hereâs the latest news
The excavation works in the Acropolis have brought back to light an area dedicated to religious activities: starting from the 6th century BC
Outside the fortification are the Necropolises of the Main Gate, Badia, Ulimeto and Ripaie, which have been under excavation since the 18th
centuries of numb routine, of duty and shadows, of watching others fall in love while never truly understanding it.
and then you came along, and suddenly, forever didnât seem so long.
he doesnât believe he deserves you at first.
youâre warm in a way heâs never been. you smile like the sun has personally greeted you.
the volturi castle is cold, unfeeling marbleâexcept when youâre there.
your laughter echoes in the halls like sunlight, and even jane, in her sharp-edged way, softens when youâre around.
when he finally accepts that he wants forever with you, it scares himâbecause heâs never wanted anything before.
he spends months watching you quietlyâmemorizing the way your hands brush over old books, the way you stop to smell flowers even though they hold no scent for you in the castle air, the way you lean against him like heâs a safe place.
the moment he realizes he wants to marry you is small: youâre brushing his hair out of his eyes after a long day, whispering, âyou always look so serious, love.â and he thinks, i want to be hers in every way the world will allow.
alec doesnât want a grand gestureâhe wants intimacy.
he wants to give you a memory that only the two of you will ever hold. so he waits until youâre walking together at dusk, far from the volturiâs looming halls, where the sky blushes and the world feels softer.
alec isnât extravagant.
he is quiet devotion wrapped in eternal stillness, but when it comes to proposing to you, his centuries-old heart canât help but beat just a little fasterâfiguratively, of course.
he plans everything with precision.
he practices the words alone in the libraryâquietly, almost like a prayer. âwould youâno. youâre already mine. thatâs not⊠quite it.â
alec carves out a private space just for you in the gardensâfar from the guards, from the politics, from aroâs looming presence.
a hidden courtyard where the moonlight pools in silver across the stone, where roses still bloom under your touch. thatâs where heâll do it.
he hides the ring in a worn leather book he noticed you reading onceâpride and prejudice, because you laughed when you called him your âmr. darcy with a cloak.â
the ring isnât overly extravagantâitâs elegant, timeless.
it has a piece of onyx in the center, smooth and dark like his eyes, surrounded by delicate silver vines, like the ones that crawl along the stone walls where you first kissed.
he doesnât kneel. alec doesnât need to.
when he holds the ring between his pale fingers and says, âi donât remember what life was like before you, but i know i never truly lived until you touched me.â itâs more reverent than any tradition.
his voice doesnât waver, but his crimson eyes are wideâlike heâs still stunned that someone like you could love someone like him.
you start crying before he even asks.
he looks startled at firstâworried heâs done something wrongâbut then youâre nodding through the tears and pulling him down into your arms.
when you say yes, alec just exhales a tiny soundless breath, as though your answer has uncoiled some tightly wound part of him.
alec kisses your hand after he slips the ring on. not onceâthree times.
the base of your finger. your knuckle. and finally, the inside of your wrist, where your pulse beats warm against his lips.
he presses his forehead to yours. âyou have given eternity meaning,â he whispers. âand i will spend every moment of it loving you better than the last.â
alec just holds you there like heâs trying to memorize the shape of this moment.
jane watches from a balcony above with the smallest smirk. âabout time,â she mutters, before walking away.
that night, you lie in bed together, wrapped in soft sheets and one another.
his head rests against your chest, listening to the rhythm of your heartbeat like itâs a lullaby meant only for him.
he doesnât stop touching youâfingers brushing your wrist, arm around your waist, knuckles grazing your jaw. he needs the reassurance that this isnât a dream.
he doesnât need sleep, but he lets his eyes close because it feels like a dream anyway.
when you start to drift off, he pulls you closer, whispering sweet things against your skin.
âif there is a soul in me, it belongs to you.â
aro insists on a grand celebration and alec barely tolerates it.
you make it worth enduringâespecially when you hold his hand the whole time and whisper that heâs yours in front of everyone.
alec isnât much for wedding planning, but he lets you do whatever you want.
if you want roses down the hall? heâll find them. want a mortal ceremony? fine. want to elope in the middle of the woods under moonlight? even better.
he doesnât care who knows. let the whole castle see.
heâll stand by your side at every formal event with his fingers twined through yours.
if anyone looks twice, alec meets their gaze with that quiet intensity that says, sheâs mine. and i would tear the world apart for her.
alone, he carves your initials into the wall behind your shared roomâsubtle, secret, but eternal. ânow the castle knows you belong here. with me.â
- Jane likes watching movies with you, even horror, but as soon as itâs something to do with witch burning she refuses
- Jane didnât have much of a childhood and lived where people feared her so you always try to do more fun and wholesome things with her
- Winning her prizes in a claw machine. She pretends itâs silly but really she treasures it so much!
- Takes her a while to let her guard down but you become the one person she tells everything to
- Sheâs surprisingly good at braids and itâs one sweet thing she loves doing for you
- Difficult for her at first to accept she has a mate but you go slow together
Demetri
- Demetri loves camp versions of vampires, Dio is his favourite
- Always tries to find fun things for you to do together at night that isnât just clubs and dinners. Markets, outdoor movies, camping etc.
- Lavish gifts, from perfume to jewellery and clothes
- Lots of whispered praise and hand kisses
- He gets really turned on when you start learning Italian if you donât already know it
- Making vampire jokes and he actually loves them, makes him laugh a lot
- Staying up late together exchanging stories
Felix
- Love the headcanon that Felix was a gladiator and honestly he would role play that in the bedroom. Youâre his prize for his victories
- So many piggybacks and shoulder rides everywhere!
- He is your guard dog. From grocery shopping, to concerts, no one is hurting you
- Puts his coat around you all the time
- Loves when you steal his clothes
- Absolutely hates historical inaccuracies in movies and will let you know. Takes you twice as long to get through movies sometimes because he goes on rants
Alec
- Loves taking you to different museum expos and telling you about his life at that time
- Alec is usually pretty quiet but once heâs comfortable with you he loves to tell you stories
- Always has to act tough but honestly loves being praised and taken care of by his partner (both sexually and not)
- Donât ask me why but I can see Alec secretly loving old cinema, from westerns to blonde bombshells
- Keeping an eye out for old movie screenings to go to together
- Finds himself always reaching for you
- Will fight anyone in the castle who thinks you donât belong
love the idea that the Volturi collect newspapers from all over the world so they can watch out for rogue vamps. bc they're not out there doing that shit. really, some poor intern/human-wannabe-vamp is just running around sifting through the daily papers like an editorial assistant working the slush pile at a trad publishing company. underpaid, overworked, crying on lunch breaks, chugging cold burnt coffee, desperately trying & failing to unionize, etc.