♱⃓ 𝔊𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔢 ♱⃓ @l0stglitch - Tumblr Blog

Aug 10

3. Hunting

Platonic yandere Volturi x fem!reader // Platonic Cullens x fem!reader

Warnings — animal death described in detail, Carlisle and Aro are implied to have a shared romantic/sexual history, mentions of polyamory and homosexuality (in case that triggers anyone??)

A/N — Sorry this took a while to write. I had a family member die and then my long distance boyfriend came down to visit for a week so I have been busy!! 😵‍💫

Word count — 6899

Divider credit — @cursed-carmine

Friday 12 December 2003

Demetri has never liked Washington. Maybe it’s the culture of the people here, or maybe it’s the constant downpour of rain, but either way, he’d much rather be elsewhere. The rain isn’t an issue right now, but the snow is. He hadn’t minded it back in Volterra, where the stuff danced like powder in the air, but here, it acts like an entirely different being.

In fact, it can hardly be called snow, for what falls from the sky isn’t soft and delicate like what he is used to. It pelts down in large, icy chunks and nestles deep within his wet, tangled hair.

Beside him, Alec isn’t faring much better. His charcoal cloak is completely soaked through, making it appear almost black. If it weren’t for the boy’s shockingly white face, he’d completely blend into the night around them.

The pair of them have stopped atop a snowy mound, a few miles out from Forks. Demetri knows how far-reaching Edward Cullen’s mindreading is. They can’t risk detection until Alec decides what their next course of action will be.

“Are you certain she is here?” He asks, so softly that the wind almost immediately steals his words. “I can’t smell a thing — the weather makes it impossible.”

Demetri nods grimly in response. He can’t smell anything either, but then again, he doesn’t need to. Echoes of your presence still linger around the forest like distant memories. He can feel the essence left by your soul as you’ve passed through here, melancholy and fearful, though tinged with a small streak of hope. It’s distinctly you. Demetri trusts his gift more than he trusts anyone else on the guard, and you aren’t at all difficult to track. Finding you was as easy as picking out a swan from a flock of ducks.

“Yes, I am certain [Name] is here.” He replies calmly, squinting against the relentless snow. Through the dark flurry and mass of trees, he can just about make out the edge of the small city.

Alec shifts beside him, brushing off some chunks of ice from his sleeves. Demetri can tell that he isn’t entirely convinced. “Perhaps she only passed through?”

He has to refrain from rolling his eyes at Alec. The boy is his superior, and has served the Volturi for around four centuries longer than he has, yet Alec’s faith in the rest of the guard is still sorely lacking.

Master Aro is far too lenient with the twins. Demetri has held the belief for centuries, though he has never once voiced it. Only Masters Caius and Marcus hold the power to criticise Aro, and even then, they rarely do.

“No, she is still here. She must have come seeking aid from the Olympic coven.” Demetri pauses with a perplexed frown, and then adds, “I don’t understand how she could’ve known to come here. She’s never been in contact with the Cullens before.”

Alec turns his face away as if in shame. For a moment he stays quiet and simply stares out into the darkness, before finally speaking, “After the trial, she asked me why Alma and Joseph had amber eyes, so I explained their diet to her.”

Demetri grits his teeth to stop himself from growling in frustration. Of course this would be Alec’s fault. “And then you told her about the Cullens?”

Alec finally meets his eye, looking slightly offended, “No, only Signor Cullen. [Name] had seen him in some of the paintings Master Aro had commissioned centuries ago. She asked if I had ever met a ‘vegetarian’, as they call themselves, so I told her about him.”

“Dottor Cullen — Carlisle is a doctor now.” Demetri corrects sharply. He immediately notices the irritation that flashes across Alec’s face at the technicality, and wisely decides to change the subject. “Did you not stop to question why she was asking about vampires outside of the Volturi?”

Alec shoots him a glare. His eyes, dark from lack of blood, glitter dangerously in the shallow moonlight. “She was curious, Demetri, that’s all there was to it. Master Aro told us that she likely made the decision to leave after Chelsea shattered her loyalty.”

Demetri remains undeterred. “Even so, [Name] wouldn’t have fled here if you hadn't told her about the Cullens.”

“No, you’re right, she wouldn’t have. Instead, she might have ended up falling into the hands of an even more dangerous coven.” Alec replies coldly, turning back to scowl at the dark expanse before them. “I’m sure the Egyptian coven would love to have her for themselves. At least Master Aro trusts Carlisle, even if only a fraction more than he does Amun.”

Demetri stiffens at the mention of his dominus. That was a personal dig, subtle enough to be passed off as an innocent remark, but Demetri knows it’s anything but. Alec had always regarded himself as superior to him, not just because of his higher rank, but also because he is the progeny of a king.

In human terms, he and Jane would be the closest things Aro has to heirs. Or, they would be, if you hadn't come along. An heir created not from shared venom, but a deep rooted devotion felt by all three of the masters.

And strangely, that has never seemed to bother the twins. Perhaps because no one, not even Aro, knows which vampire turned you. You’re a mystery, an enigma — an abandoned fledgling just waiting to be claimed. You have no natural master.

But Demetri does. Despite his disdain for Amun, the bond still remains unbroken, festering like an old wound that refuses to heal. Alec’s disregard for Demetri’s dominus brings to life a flicker of protectiveness, which he firmly ignores. He holds no concern for Amun — Chelsea promised him that all loyalty to his old master is gone. So why does he care?

Perhaps it isn’t that he cares, but that the idea of Amun having you all to himself is utterly repulsive. Demetri realises with a sudden startling discomfort that if Amun did have you, then he would rejoin the Egyptian coven without hesitation.

“Well, she’s clearly not with Amun, she’s here.” He says briskly, “Let’s just go to the Cullens and order them to hand her over. Carlisle is reasonable — he’ll comply.”

Alec turns back to look at him sharply, “Do not forget your place, Demetri. You are here to follow my command without question, not offer up ideas of your own.”

Demetri rolls his shoulders as if preparing to fight. His eyes burn into the faint buildings in the distance, where he knows you’re hiding from them. So close, just a few meagre miles away, and yet Alec still insists on waiting here. “I thought we shared the view that [Name] needs to be brought back immediately. That is why we’re here, no?”

He finally meets Alec’s piercing gaze. The boy’s face is difficult to read, but it’s clear that he’s unhappy. Perhaps not at Demetri this time, but at the situation they face. Does he care so much about Carlisle’s opinion that demanding they hand you over causes him distress? Or is it you he’s worried about upsetting?

“Yes,” Alec finally replies, his expression hardening with a sudden decisiveness, “but that was before we knew that she had sought refuge with the Cullens. We must return to Volterra and report this to the masters.”

Demetri’s gloved fingers curl into his palms, pressing against his firm, unforgiving flesh. He can feel his whole body itching to disobey Alec. Every christalised cell that makes up his being aches with a burning desire to hunt you down, even stronger than the constant, scorching need for blood.

“We were ordered to bring [Name] home.” Demetri reminds him frostily. “Master Caius will be furious if we do not comply, regardless of your judgment.”

Alec scoffs, “Don’t hide behind such a weak excuse. We both know this has nothing to do with Master Caius.”

Demetri narrows his eyes impatiently. This conversation is a waste of time, and Alec is only prolonging it by lecturing him. “If it is my honest opinion you desire, then fine. I do not fear punishment from any of our masters. If offending the Cullens warrants a negative consequence, then I will take that in my stead. As long as [Name] is safely returned to Volterra, I do not care what is done to me, as no torture will ever rival the terror that seizes my heart every second she is not with us.”

Alec stares at him through the relentless snowfall for a moment, as if Demetri’s speech has stunned him into silence. For a second, his eyes flicker with what could perhaps be mistaken for understanding, but then his expression hardens and the boy shakes his head. “Carlisle won’t let harm come to her, Demetri. We shall return to Volterra without disturbing his coven.”

“Why are you so concerned with the Cullens?” Demetri fires back, taking an antagonistic step closer to Alec. A few white flakes fall from his hair as he moves, one landing on his lip and the rest clinging to his fur lined cape. Without breaking eye contact with the other guard, he brushes his knuckles across his mouth and scowls.

“Why are they more important to you than [Name] is? I thought you considered her your sister. Gods — she might as well be your broodmate, yet you still fret more for Carlisle than you do her!”

Alec finally snaps back at him, “I will not sabotage Master Aro’s plans. He wants Carlisle’s boy to join the guard, so we are under strict orders to maintain good relations with the whole coven. Until we speak to Master Aro directly, we will not make contact with any of them.”

Demetri groans in frustration and runs his fingers through his wet, spiky hair. “You’re prioritising Edward Cullen’s potential future with us over [Name]’s safety.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Alec growls, turning his back on the distant city. Demetri watches as he crosses his arms over his chest and stares darkly at the forest from which they came. “I want to bring her back just as much as you do, but let’s not lie to ourselves. She is perfectly safe here with them.”

Demetri hisses through his teeth. “You can’t know that for certain! Anything could happen, Alec.”

He can already feel his thoughts beginning to spiral. Images of you being torn apart by vicious rogues flash through his mind. What if the Romanians discover you’ve fled from the Volturi? Would they kill you? Turn you against your family? Demetri knows how easy you are to manipulate. Too young, too trusting. Such qualities are endearing, but they make him constantly fear for your safety.

How could he not?

How could Alec not?

“If anything were to happen,” Alec begins, his tone laced with impatience, “then [Name] is perfectly capable of looking after herself. Your job isn’t to protect her, Demetri, she can do that herself. All you need to do is track her down — which you have done adequately, so stop fussing.”

Demetri glares at him, but doesn’t argue any further. He’s served the Volturi for so long now that disobeying a direct order from a superior doesn’t even occur to him as an option. To go against Alec’s word would be to go against his own nature. It would be a betrayal of the many lifetimes of service he has dedicated to his masters.

The irritation on Demetri’s face relaxes into something more subdued. He sighs in defeat, trying to ignore the aching need to follow your tenors, and then replies, “There is nothing I can say to make you consider the alternative?”

“No.” Alec answers without hesitation. “Nothing at all. This is a matter that should be brought to the kings.”

It seems like a waste of time to Demetri, for he already knows what they will say. Master Aro is the only one of the three who may actually agree with Alec’s initial judgment that for now you will be safe with the Olympic coven. Neither Masters Caius nor Marcus will likely care about maintaining a cordial relationship with them.

There must be more to Master Aro’s history with Carlisle than Demetri knows; a history that Alec would, by default, be more privy to than him.

Something personal, perhaps.

Demetri isn’t blind, nor is he stupid. He had sensed the strange tension that lingered between his master and their distinguished guest all those centuries ago, but never assumed it transcended physical desire.

To vampires, polyamory isn’t the same unspeakable taboo it is among many mortal communities, and neither is homosexuality. No one had batted an eye at whatever was going on between Master Aro and Carlisle, despite Aro having a mate. Of course, they had been subtle, but there was really no need when the only witnesses were the guards, who would never think to disapprove of their master’s private business.

Demetri had been a witness, but perhaps not to everything. Whatever bond Alec seems to believe still exists between Master Aro and Carlisle cannot be good, especially if it may cloud his judgment.

“You don’t worry that Master Aro’s feeling for Carlisle could… affect his decision?” Demetri asks cautiously, trying to keep his voice as inoffensive as possible.

Alec eyes him suspiciously, “Are you doubting our master’s ability to rule?”

Demetri hesitates, choosing his next words carefully. Alec is close enough to Aro to be able to theoretically influence decisions if he desired to, but he could just as easily rat out any perceived disobedience. “Of course not. All I am suggesting is that I am concerned that his priorities may not lie completely with [Name].”

Alec’s brows furrow as he listens, but he doesn’t interpret, so Demetri takes that as a sign to continue. “You were given the authority to make decisions for this mission. I know you want her home just as much as I do, so why not take her back now? You have the freedom to act as you see fit, why are you making decisions according to Aro’s vision of the future?”

Alec’s face turns incredulous. “He is my dominus, my objectives should always be aligned with his.”

“Even if his objectives jeopardise [Name]’s safety?” Demetri challenges, no longer able to keep the desperation out of his voice.

“They won’t.” Alec replies firmly. “Now I suggest you stop arguing with me, or I’ll have to report you to the masters for insubordination.”

Demetri grinds his teeth together to stop himself from retorting back. He knows that Alec isn’t one to make empty threats, so it would do him good to heed the warning.

“Forgive me, Alec, it would be inconsiderate to drag them into such a minor dispute. I shouldn’t have let my personal feelings interfere with our task.”

After a few seconds of heavy silence, the boy’s posture relaxes a fraction and he nods to himself, clearly pleased with Demetri’s submission. Alec doesn’t acknowledge the apology, which is to be expected, but he doesn’t repeat the threat either. “We’ll leave now then, before any of the Cullens notice our presence.”

Demetri responds with a brisk, wordless nod. The sooner they return to Volterra the better. He can admit that, even if he still doesn’t agree that this is the best course of action.

After casting a final, longing look back at Forks, Demetri turns around and starts to run. His feet barely touch the thick blanket of snow beneath him, leaving no print and making no sound as he forces himself to leave you. He doesn’t check to make sure Alec is following, for fear that even a quick glance will be enough to send him running back to that mound. Back to where your distant presence feels strongest.

No, he will return to Volterra. He will follow orders as he has been trained, even if it makes his whole chest ache with something that feels uncomfortably close to human pain. For now, he will leave you be.

Wednesday 28 January 2004

The air around you quivers with every quiet heartbeat of the prey you stalk. It vibrates through the silent forest, occasionally interrupted by the soft crunch of snow beneath hooves. You’ve been tailing the doe for a few minutes now, watching the way each individual hair bristles in the wind, admiring the plethora of browns that would go unnoticed by a human eye. It’s a shame you’ll have to kill such a beautiful creature — something so pure and free from sin.

The Cullens frown upon your former diet, as if their own doesn’t directly contradict the nature of your species, as if killing an animal is any different from killing a human. At least animals aren’t capable of the same cruelty man is.

You exhale softly through your nose, trying to focus on the task at hand. Carlisle will be disappointed if you return without having fed, and despite what you keep trying to tell yourself, you can’t stand disappointing anyone. Not even this strange coven of ‘vegetarians’, as they call themselves.

The doe wanders slightly closer to where you’re hidden, crouched in a snowy ditch beneath a few naked branches. Her nose twitches, but she still shows no sign of noticing your presence. It’s almost sad how defenceless she is, how utterly unprepared she is for your attack. How many predators has she evaded to survive up until this point? Many, you’re sure. Her species have perfected the art of fleeing, yet all those millions of years of evolution will amount to nothing when faced with a vampire.

It’s cruel, really.

A faint, bleating squeal sounds in the distance, a few miles away, you think. One of the others has made their kill — that’s probably a good indication that you should too.

With a quiet grunt, you slowly emerge from the ditch, locking eyes with the doe. She stares back at you for a moment, frozen, and then bolts. You watch with rapt attention as she darts eloquently through the snow, moving with eerie grace.

As soon as the last flash of brown fur disappears behind a cluster of fir trees, you begin your pursuit. It takes less than a second to reach the doe, but you don’t immediately go for the kill. Instead, you carefully lunge from the side, wrapping your arms around her midsection and sending the two of you tumbling to the ground.

The doe screams and bucks beneath you, though not from pain. You made sure to cushion the fall and avoided landing on any delicate limbs. She’s just scared, as all animals are of vampires. It’s strange, considering most members of your kind wouldn’t even think to feed from anything other than a human.

Animals just aren’t the same. They aren’t rich or sweet; their blood tastes like dirt — earthy and bitter. If it weren’t for the scorching pain in your throat, you certainly wouldn’t have the appetite for a deer. To kill one now feels like a waste, but you know that if you don’t, it’ll be a human you prey on instead.

And that can’t, under any circumstances, happen. Not if you want to stay with the Cullens.

Fighting back your disgust, you dip down and sink your teeth into the warm fur, feeling the struggling beneath your increase as the animal’s panic worsens. Her blood rushes into your mouth, soothing the ache in your throat. It tastes unpleasant, like raw foliage, but right now you don’t care. The rapid pounding of the doe’s heart spurs you to continue, awakening the predator within, and you become completely absorbed in the draining of both blood and life from your prey.

Only when the fur starts to cool and the blood pressure drops, do you finally pull back. You can feel the warm liquid already starting to stick to your mouth and chin. Thin wisps of steam rise from the corpse and a few crimson droplets drip onto the snow.

Caius would be furious if he saw the mess.

The thought of your old master makes you frown. It’s been more than a month since you fled the Volturi, and yet they still consume your every thought, still dictate the way you feed, act and speak.

You are a guard, a soldier, and being here with the Cullens hasn’t erased that the way you thought it would. Your time within the guard has made the outside world feel strange and foreign. It has twisted your sense of community — of family — into something only the Volturi can provide.

Aro must have done that on purpose.

Perhaps that is why you still haven’t had any word from your former coven; they know how lost you are without them. Aro thinks you’ll come crawling back, begging for forgiveness as if what you’ve done is comparable to all of the atrocities they have committed themselves.

He doesn’t deserve the satisfaction.

You grimace, and then stiffen as the wind picks up and blows a familiar scent closer — Jasper. Without even meaning to, you let out a low growl and turn around to glare at where he’s standing a few metres away, lips red and eyes a bright, glowing amber. He raises his hands placatingly and takes a few, cautious steps closer.

“It’s only me,” Jasper murmurs, looking between you and the dead doe. “Feeling better now?”

You open your mouth to answer, only for an unexpected sense of calm to wash over you, masking the primordial need to defend your kill. You want to snap at him for using his gift on you, still wary after Chelsea’s betrayal, but it’s impossible to muster up enough anger to even care.

“I suppose so,” you answer begrudgingly, “though I can’t say that I enjoy the taste of deer.”

He laughs softly, seemingly more at ease now that you aren’t showing any signs of aggression. “Can’t say that I do either. Maybe next time you and I can go hunt some wolves instead.”

Your lips quirk into a slight smile. Jasper is your usual hunting partner, so he knows exactly which animals you find more… tolerable to feed on. “That would certainly be preferable to another deer.”

“Most creatures are preferable to deer,” he agrees, moving closer to where you’re crouched over your meal. There’s a beat of silence as he looks you up and down, taking in the drying blood that paints your maw and stains the collar of your shirt. You’re certainly a sight to behold, practically feral in both your stance and state. Any human that might be unfortunate enough to stray this far into the wilderness would be in for a shock.

You clear your throat and stand up, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “I believe I heard a goat earlier — was that yours?”

Jasper’s face scrunches with disgust and he quickly shakes his head. “I’d rather feed from a rat. It must’ve been Carlisle’s kill you heard.”

You hum quietly in amusement and dip your head, trying to hide your growing smile. The kings were always strict about appearances, you were never to show emotion during trials, so expressing joy so freely now feels wrong. In fact, even just experiencing the emotion itself doesn’t feel right. You’re supposed to look down on all other vampires, for they are inferior to the Volturi, yet the Cullens, for the most part, seem remarkably similar to you. Then again, you don’t consider yourself to be part of the Volturi anymore, so perhaps that is why.

“Where is Carlisle?” You wonder, glancing around the forest. “Has he gone back with the others?”

“Ah, no.” Jasper replies, straightening up. He swings his head back in the direction he came, blonde locks dancing like tassels with the movement. “That’s why I came for you. Carlisle wants a word.”

You stiffen, the smile instantly dropping from your face. “Have I upset him?”

“Upset him?” Jasper looks back at you wryly, “No, I doubt it. Think he just wants to talk without the rest of us eavesdropping.”

The tension in your body eases slightly, though your face remains stern. “You mean without Edward eavesdropping.”

Jasper’s head tilts in mock contemplation, “Does it count as eavesdropping if he isn’t using his ears?”

You scoff quietly and walk over to him, trying to wipe away some of the blood that sticks to your skin. It’s become flaky and dry now, chilled by the winter breeze. You’ll have to have a shower when you return to the Cullens’ home.

Your home.

“I suppose not, though the principle remains.”

“I guess it does,” Jasper muses, his lips twitching into a strange smile, “You know he can’t control it, though. His gift doesn’t work the same way yours does.”

You avert your eyes with a guilty sigh, suddenly very interested in the glistening snow at your feet. Even after six weeks here in Forks, you’re still struggling with Edward’s mind reading. Knowing that he can hear your every thought feels just as violating as knowing that Aro can access every single one of your memories, and no doubt will when you next see him.

Whenever that may be.

“I know. I don’t mean to be standoffish towards him, but it’s difficult for me. His gift is so similar to Aro’s…”

Jasper rests a gentle hand on your shoulder, “Edward is nothing like Aro.”

You grimace and nod. He’s right — you know that, but it doesn’t change the way you feel. Every person you meet and every thing you do reminds you of your time with the Volturi. “Yes, I know. I’m just constantly worried I’ll think the wrong thing.”

He smiles down at you sadly. “There’s no such thing. Your thoughts are your own, you can think whatever you want.”

Somehow, you don’t find that entirely believable. Every day since arriving in Forks, you’ve been terrified that they’ll cast you out of their home. You still think about your old family often, more than someone in your position should. What’s stopping Carlisle from handing you right back to Aro? They’re friends, aren’t they?

Don’t friends help each other out?

Jasper’s hand leaves your shoulder and he takes a respectful step back. “I’ll see you at home then. Do you know how to get to Hoh Lake from here? I think that’s where Carlisle is waiting for you.”

“Yes, Esme took me there a couple of weeks ago,” you confirm with a slight incline of your head. “It’s a few miles south from here, isn’t it?”

Jasper hums, pointing towards a cluster of tall firs a few hundred feet away, “Yeah, over in that direction. You’ll catch his scent soon enough, and then he’ll be easy to pinpoint.”

You nod in thanks before swiftly making your leave. The sensation of Jasper’s eyes burning into you doesn’t go away until you’ve travelled at least a mile. He’s watching you, but why? The thought makes your skin prick with unease, but you try to brush it off. Jasper has always been an unsettling presence, which is probably why he uses his gift on you so often. It’s already beginning to wear off, and you can feel yourself growing anxious as you get closer to Hoh Lake.

It only takes around ten minutes of running through mountainous terrain to find Carlisle waiting for you at the lakeshore. The wind is blowing towards you, so he doesn’t immediately catch your scent, however the sound of your boots racing across frozen snow soon alerts him of your arrival.

Within seconds you’re standing beside him just before the frozen water, staring ahead so as to avoid eye contact. From your peripheral vision, you can see that Carlisle’s posture is relaxed: arms at his sides and face sporting a mild expression. He doesn’t seem upset with you, so why bother summoning you so far out in the wilderness?

“There’s no need to be so skittish — you aren’t in any trouble.” He finally says in a gentle voice.

You glance up at him, and then back at the lake, uncomfortable with how easily he read your mood. “I’m not skittish, I’m just… confused as to why you’d want to speak here, away from all the others.”

Carlisle stays silent for a moment before replying. “I’m sorry, I hadn’t meant to make you anxious. I suppose I forget your past, you’ve settled in so well—”

“I’m not anxious.” You interrupt sharply, shooting him a glare. “I served the Volturi for over a decade, I don’t fear anything or anyone.”

Carlisle’s expression falters for a fraction of a second. “Sorry, that’s not what I was implying. I only mean that this sort of meeting probably wouldn’t usually be indicative of good news in the Volturi, would it?”

You shrug uncomfortably — an old habit you’ve forced yourself to pick back up after years of ‘proper’ mannerisms. The surge of defensiveness you feel towards your old coven is an unwelcome surprise. “Not necessarily. Perhaps for the lower guards, that might be true, but the kings favoured me. If I hadn’t done anything inherently wrong, then I’d have nothing to fear. Oftentimes I’d be summoned merely to keep one of them company.”

The snow crunches as Carlisle shuffles close enough to gently pat your back. It feels unnatural, like he hasn’t yet discovered what works to soothe you and what doesn’t. “Well, you haven’t done anything to get yourself into trouble, and even if you had, I’m not some evil dictator, [Name].” His lips quirk into a smile, as if his own words amuse him. “If you’ve made a mistake, then I — and the rest of the coven — completely understand that. With that being said, I’m not sure you have made a mistake, so there’s nothing to be concerned about.”

You shift your weight between your feet impatiently. Not only does he obviously not understand your worries, but he also still hasn’t revealed what the two of you are doing here. “Yes, but… my thoughts. Edward can hear them and sometimes I worry I’m not thinking the way I should.”

“There’s no right way of thinking,” Carlisle replies softly. His hand, which still lingers against your back, begins to rub circles into the fabric of your shirt. He’s trying to soothe you the way someone would a child. The action should irritate you, but strangely it reminds you of home. Or, what was your home. “You served the Volturi for many years, so it’s completely natural to still be on high alert. All that training won’t just disappear within a few weeks.”

You groan and tug at the roots of your hair in frustration — the unfairness of your existence finally settling in. Why did it have to be you? Why was it you who survived the vampire attack? Why was it you who stumbled across Victor’s coven? Why was it you who Aro set his sights on, and you who realised Chelsea’s manipulation?

“They’ve ruined me.” You hiss through gritted teeth. “I shouldn’t be like this. They trained me like a dog, so that I can only find purpose and comfort serving them.”

“You’re not ruined,” Carlisle says firmly. His hand retreats from your back and he turns to face you with a serious expression. “Your past doesn’t dictate your present, you don’t have to be what they created.”

“I don’t know how to be anything other than a soldier,” you admit quietly. “It’s been so long since I’ve had this much freedom. Even before the Volturi, I still had a duty to my old coven. I don’t— I don’t feel that way here.”

Carlisle’s solemnity doesn’t change. He listens raptly to your confession, as if your words themselves hold divine weight, and then gently cups your face. “I understand, you feel restless, don’t you? That’s why I wanted to speak to you alone, without the others listening in.”

He smiles fondly at the thought of his progenies, though stops when you don’t share the sentiment. “I know you haven’t been with us for very long, but I think it would do you good to attend high school with the others.”

It takes a second for Carlisle’s words to register. He can’t surely mean that. Attend school? Exist among the very creatures you’ve been slaughtering for the past fifty years? The thought almost makes you laugh. What a foolish suggestion! He might as well encourage you to stand on a stage and announce to the whole town that you’re a creature of the night — that you consume blood as they do water and exist as a being that defies what every human believes to be true.

But the way Carlisle stares down at you suggests otherwise. The astronomical trust lingering in his golden eyes reveals that he genuinely believes it to be a good idea.

“Um, I’m not sure,” you reply carefully, stepping back so that his hands fall from your face. “I’m not great at controlling myself around blood, and I’m worried that all of the smells and lights will overwhelm me.”

His lips slide into a sympathetic smile, “I’ve considered that. Alice and Edward are currently posing as sophomores, so I can speak to the school and see if we can get you put into their grade. That way they can keep an eye on you and make sure no accidents happen.”

You scratch the back of your neck with a confused frown, “How old are sophomores supposed to be? I don’t exactly look the same age as those two.”

Carlisle laughs quietly. “Sophomores are typically fifteen or sixteen years old, so you’ll look a little younger than the rest, but I can tell them that you’re exceptionally bright for your age and would benefit from being put in a higher grade.”

His enthusiasm for the idea makes it near impossible to disagree, so you have to be careful with your words. “I haven’t been in education since I was a human, and even then, I believe I dropped out early. The teachers there won’t believe that I’m ’bright for my age’ if I don’t know any of what they’re teaching me.”

“You and I both know that won’t be a problem.” Carlisle’s voice turns slightly condescending now, and you can’t help but feel as though you’re being spoken to like a child. “It won’t take long to catch up, and I’m sure you have a good foundation of knowledge already. The Volturi have always valued science and art, were you given any lessons? I’m sure Aro would’ve taken great pleasure in teaching you.”

A quiet scoff slips from your lips, earning you a confused frown from Carlisle.

“You speak of him as if you’re still friends.”

He grimaces and shoves his hands into his pockets. “I… Well, Aro was hospitable to me when I resided with his coven. I don’t agree with what he did to you, but I can still appreciate certain aspects of his character.”

“Like what?” You challenge quietly, “What do you actually like about him? He’s a tyrant and a snake. I thought you of all people would be smart enough to see that.”

Carlisle just stares down at you with a pitying expression, “He means well, he just has an unconventional way of doing things.”

“Unconventional?” You gawk, “I’d say murdering my previous coven for personal gain is a little more than just ‘unconventional’. And then on top of that, he had Chelsea scramble my brain so that I’d be blindly loyal to the very people who stole my life away from me!”

Carlisle’s brows furrow and his body shifts to the left, as if pushed by the unobstructed alpine wind. “You see things in black and white. Aro may have wronged you, but his existence is imperative for the stability of our kind. The Volturi may be flawed in many ways, but they are a necessary force.”

“What he did was entirely unnecessary,” you snap back. “They didn’t need my gift — Aro just saw me as a shiny new toy to play with. He takes whatever he wants because he believes, as a self-appointed king, that he has the right to. He’s not serving some ‘greater good’, he’s just fulfilling his own selfish desires.”

Carlisle sighs deeply, a troubled look crossing his face. His golden eyes seem to glisten with venom, though you’re certain that he isn’t crying. He can’t be, it must be a trick of the light.

“I’m sorry, [Name]. You’re right, I may consider him a friend, but what he and his brothers did to you is inexcusable.”

The apology comes as a surprise, so much so that you don’t immediately know what to say in response. Stranger still, Carlisle appears to be genuinely remorseful, an emotion rarely seen from the vampires of your past. You aren’t sure how to approach the situation.

“I— I just don’t understand why you consider him a friend, knowing everything that you do. He hides his true nature behind false smiles and meaningless words, surely you are able to see through that!”

“I am,” Carlisle admits, “but you must understand, it isn’t as simple as that. The Volturi were the first civilised vampires I met, and they gave me a home for twenty years. Aro was a… stimulating companion. He was, and still is, unlike anyone I have ever met before.”

Carlisle pauses, as if in search of how to explain himself most clearly. “I value him as an old friend who provided me sanctuary and knowledge when I was at my most vulnerable. It pains me to see him commit acts of cruelty after showing such kindness to me, though unfortunately I find that, despite my own morals, I cannot help but value the connection we have.”

You feel yourself deflate slightly, your previous anger reducing to a quieter confusion. “But you know what Chelsea is capable of. Aren’t you worried that this ‘connection’ you speak so highly of is merely a fabrication?”

Carlisle seems oddly surprised by the question, as if he hadn’t expected your thoughts to move in the direction they have. “I’m not gifted,” he reminds you gently, “Aro has no need to force any kind of friendship or camaraderie between us. Perhaps if we had met at a later time, after I had turned Edward, things may have been different.”

The casual way he speaks about Aro desiring Edward’s gift makes you grimace. “You seem strangely at peace with the knowledge that he might do to your coven what he did to mine in order to obtain your own progeny. I thought you considered Edward a son. Would you give him up if push comes to shove, or would you stand by and allow him to slaughter the grade of your coven?”

“We are not a coven,” Carlisle replies firmly, “we are a family. And I like to think that he would not do that.”

“Well, I’ve seen him do it first hand,” you argue back, “we both know what he’s capable of. All I’m saying is that you should be more careful about who you decide to befriend.”

Carlisle’s brows knit together into what would be a frown, if it weren’t for the close-lipped smile he bears. You aren’t sure what emotion he is trying to convey, but it probably isn’t a positive one.

“I appreciate your concern. It pleases me to see that you care enough to worry about our wellbeing, but you have nothing to fear. Despite the pain he has caused you, Aro isn’t the heartless monster you believe him to be. No one is entirely good or bad, and our actions are just as significant as our motives behind them.”

Carlisle’s insistence on defending Aro is alarming, to say the least, but by now you’ve given up trying to change his mind. Either he has a frighteningly distorted view on what kind of a person Aro is, or he simply doesn’t care that the man is a power-hungry tyrant. You can’t decide which would be worse.

“We’ve gotten quite off topic here, haven’t we?” Carlisle suddenly says with a light chuckle. It’s clearly forced, but you can appreciate the effort.

“Yeah, I guess we have.”

“How about we go home, then?” He suggests in a much gentler tone than before. “We can discuss the finer details of your enrolment with the others, to make sure that everyone’s on the same page.”

You wrap your arms around your midsection and glance down at the dark, fur-lined boots Alice bought you last week. The Cullens have been very kind to you, all things considered, so you aren’t in much of a position to deny Carlisle’s wishes. All the same though, spending seven hours in a building that’s swarming with humans doesn’t sound like a particularly good idea.

“Are you sure this is wise? I mean… anything could happen, I don’t want to mess up the life you’ve built for yourselves here.”

Carlisle removes a hand from his pocket to give your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “You have more control than you give yourself credit for, and the others will be there in case of an emergency. I really do think this will be good for you, [Name]. It’ll give you the purpose you’ve been missing since leaving the Volturi and you’ll finally have the chance to live a somewhat normal life. Don’t you see? You can be human again.”

Tag list: @mentalinsatabilityatitsfineposts @dgwsstuff @oikawaslefttesti @lizz-blizt @hannahshideout @dnevnikketrsblog @sparklybuildingsdesign88 @realifezompire @linaaa15 @pastaanon

#twilight #the Volturi #the twilight saga #Volturi #Yandere #platonic yandere #aro volturi x reader #caius volturi x reader #marcus volturi x reader #felix volturi x reader #demetri volturi x reader #jane volturi x reader #alec volturi x reader #the volturi x reader #cullens x reader #the cullens #jasper hale x reader #carlisle cullen x reader #yandere volturi

Trending Blogs

Recently Viewed Blogs

♱⃓ 𝔊𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔢 ♱⃓