ALEC IS PROTESTING BC HIS BOYFRIEND IS ABSENT. i’m working on it. but i’m still here ! if you want to plot something, hit me up on my multi ! ( @toerr )
cherry valley forever
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her

Janaina Medeiros
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Andulka
Peter Solarz

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Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
Xuebing Du
d e v o n
KIROKAZE
Cosimo Galluzzi
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
ojovivo
Mike Driver

#extradirty
art blog(derogatory)

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@nulliius-blog
ALEC IS PROTESTING BC HIS BOYFRIEND IS ABSENT. i’m working on it. but i’m still here ! if you want to plot something, hit me up on my multi ! ( @toerr )
i’ve not lived a good life, my love, but know that it was softer with you in it
washing out war (o.q)
❛ F A T H E R ------------- ❜ a pause is taken, though brief, as he lets the word settle on his tongue. it was still STRANGE to say. but he knew it made his master HAPPY ; alec wasn’t above at least attempting to grant someone happiness if minimal effort was required. ❛ when will heidi return ? ❜
@maliitiosi
it’s come to my attention that i should pROBABLY roleplay with someone other than just @mixedbloods . sO. like this for a starter ? or for me to come plot with you ?
hands grasp his form, and it feels like the ocean itself; weighs its entirety over his skeleton… crushing it down, crippling the bone under such a pressure that he’s sure he’d feel relief in the moment which they would break. only, that moment never comes. because his bones aren’t breaking, his bones aren’t under any strain but that of which his own body brings it. muscles pull taught, stretching skin tight across joints like his jaw and shoulders. the pain distorting features once cherubic to something scorned; red with his own blood, and with skin rubbed raw by the salt of his own tears.
he sees no pride in the way he is now, writhing in the grasp of the masters that he wonders… what they must think; oh, one (a guard) has voiced themselves, and charlie’s eyes strain to look towards them— but his attention, oh it’s not long kept as pain steals him away from the attack his mate, had made upon the other member of the guard.
caius is there, with a palm to his forehead; feeling the extreme heat which radiates through the boy, maybe to the point where it even rivals the warmth which his beloved wolves steam from their forms. for oh, the venom is eating through him like a bad case of the flu. ruining his system, causing havoc in his lungs and heart. he wants to give up, to shut his eyes— but he hears their voices, hears them speaking … and hears the crack, that is felix’s arm, being pried from his shoulder; a sickening crack, that resounds clear as is charlie’s own thunderous heart.
the worst thing however, is he doesn’t know what to make of it— there’s too much going on at once. with his vision tinging red, and his shoulder beyond recognizable with pain … he can’t tell if that’s his own arm breaking, or someone else’s. it might as well be at this point, with the way he contorts once more; back arching off of the ground as liquid fire runs through his veins.
god(s) he can’t even scream, his throat hurts, everything does— and he wants it to stop— stop, but he can’t even get himself to muster alec’s name to his tongue… though his mind screams for him; enough to pass through to caius, whose red eyes, divert from pained brown ones… towards the boy shouting orders. orders, which charlie finds relieving his pain as, as they are spoken… the mist begins to seep towards charlie…. grasping him and swaddling him in a numb feeling, that he greets with a sigh, as his back drops back towards the ground; and the contorting of his body ceases.
brown eyes, blink— long dark lashes, kissing pale cheek bones as they flutter open and close, at an impossibly slow rate; life only coming to return, as a cup of blood is pressed to his lips. with aid, his head is held up and the cup is tipped and it’s contents enter his mouth. a hand strokes his throat, convincing the muscles there to move as to swallow it down. a trick charlie had known himself, to work with stubborn sickly dogs who won’t swallow pills. and maybe he is no better than a sick dog. a dog that needs to be put down. but as the numbing takes further hold … his mind manages to clear; the blood pouring into his mouth and down his throat, encouraging a form of rejuivination that brings color back to his skin.
however the wound on his shoulder, looks no better than it had to begin with. very clear imprints of alec’s teeth are there, dug into the flesh… revealing dark red, that still wells upward with streams of blood that gently trickle down porcelain skin and even into his hair; as it had pooled to the bed ( that he’d been laid in at some point ) below his head.
‘what have you done’, caius voice booming once more; that is once alec had reapproached, only for charlie’s hand to fall from the bed…. lifting upward, towards alec’s as if he might be able to reach it… fingers barely reaching alec’s, skin skimming skin only long enough for a single sentence to be passed along the connection.
‘it’s okay…’
he doesn’t stop his whispering, even when caius’ voice is raised. he can’t TELL them why he attacked charlie. he never admitted it. aro would have to pry it from him. so he raises a numb hand to his primary master && eyes him with brilliant crimson’s. aro takes hold && focuses for a moment before scowling slightly at the scene that unfolds in alec’s memories. ❛ we’ll send your twin when she returns. ❜ his offer is met with a soft ‘ no need. ‘ it’s then that he feels charlie’s hand ;; too hot. his fingers jerk away instinctively, afraid the fire was returning to his bones.
❛ look after him. you caused the blood, you will clean it. ❜ marcus is BORED with the situation at hand. ❛ take care to ensure word does not return to the cullens. ❜ the sentiment is echoed between the three masters. alec doesn’t speak. doesn’t look at any of them. what can he say ? he’s made all of their lives immeasurably more difficult.
they leave, helping felix to his feet && reattaching his arm. alec stares ahead of himself, whispering once more ;; though he’s able to comprehend what he’s been saying -- it’s pagan. the language he spoke when he was human. it’s a prayer for safety. he doesn’t remember ever learning it. { it’s something his mother recited over their family quite frequently when the twins powers grew too fearsome. } the bloodied mess of boys are left in the quiet, save for his gentle whispers into the air. ❛ it’s not okay. ❜ it’s not spoken in english -- but he’d taught charlie a bit of his language once.
to be prey, oh— charlie had only felt like HE WERE PREY, once before in his life… and it were the day on snowy field, where his father had placed his THEN SMALL form, onto the back of A WOLF; that he felt this way… he felt like the crowd of red eyes, watching his form disappear on the back of a shifter; were there only to see him BURN. to RIP little limbs from a small torso. to TAKE his head from thin shoulders, and throw him into the fire.
being prey, …. oh, BEING PREY had been terrifying. and just like it were terrifying then, it is terrifying now. more so, even. but charlie convinced himself he DESERVED it— for his foolish heart, thought he could make a DIFFERENCE, while his mind knew it couldn’t. and so as alec LASHED out, the boy had little opportunity to strike back; however nails did manage, to scrape across the vampire’s face, removing STONE-Y FLESH in the process. this didn’t do anything to AID charlie though, no he were pressed into the extravagant mold of the fame of his bed either way… the wood, DIGGING into his spine as teeth met the flesh of his shoulder—
charlie was quick to decide which hurt more… the bite, or the way his back, were forced against the nearest surface. and by far, it WERE THE BITE… he’d felt alec’s teeth in his thighs many a time. but THE VENOM, never got to him; alec wouldn’t let it. he were always SO CAREFUL, to keep it from charlie’s blood stream. as if it might do something, when the chances of that… were supposedly next to NOTHING. but they were wrong. it did something— it HURT HIM. it wrapped up that human part of him in acid, and burned him raw; stripping him down to the bone, it felt like his heart would COLLAPSE in on itself… but despite it all, the pain and the venom; it KEPT BEATING…
it kept fucking beating, and it spread the pain from the tips of his toes; to the top of his head. he couldn’t get rid of it, he couldn’t get ALEC out of his neck— and god he was trying, his SCREAM caught silent on the back of his throat, as hands placed themselves flat on alec’s chest… pushing with all the strength that he had, in order TO FORCE the being away.
it were like alec was a NEWBORN all over again, and like charlie’s own inhuman strength… stood no chance. like charlie’s blood, POURING DOWN his shoulder and messily into alec’s mouth— were the opposite of superman’s kryptonite… like he were RATHER the sun fueling his powers. and god, he MIGHT LAUGH at the comparison… if he weren’t trembling against the side of his bed; barely able to lift his arm, in order to grab at alec’s hair in feeble attempt to pull him from his shoulder. for in the end alec were no superman. HE NEVER WAS. maybe once he was a little boy. but now he was something else… and the sooner charlie understood that what he had, had… was FABRICATED ( or so he thinks ) the sooner this would hurt less.
in fact, it does… it does, because alec’s PRIED HIMSELF from charlie’s bloody shoulder, and the boy has barely recognized this … as the venom, his body allows to BOIL inside of him, distracts the DHAMPIR from such a realization. oh, he’s merely twisting; contorting his body, in ways he didn’t know he could as it wrings through HIS FRAME … unable to affect his shape in any other way but by PAIN. there were no turning what he was, no there was only killing it; and maybe it would kill him. it felt like it would. and god despite it all, he’s still calling ALEC’S NAME in the end. not for his mother, not for his father, or even the pack. but for alec, for caius… for the two of them because it HURTS, and he wants it to stop—
he’s calling for help before he even realizes it’s his own voice. WHAT DID YOU DO. what did you do. caius’ voice is what’s heard before he can even rationalize what he’s actually done. there’s a SNIDE REMARK by felix about how he ‘ didn’t know alec hated him that much. ‘ && then alec’s ON the much taller male, nails on his throat before the mist has consumed the brute, taking him to the ground with a loud thud. his arm is detached without anyone making a move to STOP him. no one DARES.
none of them know proper dhampir care. but they do know that anytime he was hurt before, more blood seemed to alleviate it. porcelain fingers are digging into felix’s neck when he hears the discussion between the masters -- remembers his MATE is in PAIN. && he can help that. so he releases felix from his mist, moving back to charlie && quickly wrapping him in a thick cloud of translucent mist, STEALING AWAY HIS SENSE TO FEEL.
&& then he’s BARKING orders in the first language that comes to his mind ;; he’s not even sure what it is. but they go -- leaving the vampire { who’s skin was STAINED in the boys blood } to his work. he’s whispering in another language, crimson hues flickering over the male to make sure he wasn’t in any kind of pain. his throat burned with the NEED to taste his blood again. he dared not even lick his lips. he shouldn’t be here -- showing so CLEARLY that he cared far more deeply than he had allowed at first. but he won’t leave him to anyone else.
when blood is brought, he allows caius to give it to charlie, feeding it to him while charlie couldn’t move. if he were mortal, his hands would be shaking. if he were mortal, his eyes would never dry. but he’s not mortal. the entire lower half of his face is painted red, staining his tunic shirt && hands. it’s under his nails. his body HURTS from his earlier panic ;; back slowly healing from the wall && face && neck healing from charlie’s hands. his voice wavers as he continues to whisper to himself -- language so ancient he’s not sure anyone knows it. caius won’t go until charlie dismisses him, while also forcing alec to take away his powers. but he returns near to him, needing to at least know he’s BREATHING.
he doesn’t hear him at first ;; doesn’t see him. not that it MATTERS. the second he hears anyone – senses anything coming towards him, he’s crawled backwards – speed immeasurable to a mortal. his back hits the wall – ROCK ON ROCK in a BANG. no one will check on the noise – why should they ? he can’t get the images to stop ;; they’re burning his mind from the inside out. he doesn’t care that his back HURTS like he’s cracked his skin it with the force of his own actions.
he can’t see charlie ;; just goading faces glad to see him burning. he can practically FEEL the flames in his bones from the v i v i d display his mind is using against him. is this PUNISHMENT for what he’s done to charlie ? some cruel joke his human life is using against him ? he feels like the smoke is in his lungs – && in truth, his own mist has caused his problem ;; it’s twisting around him like a coil, stealing his sight from him && filling his lungs like a TOXIN. events like these have happened naught since he was a new born ;; when the pain was fresh in his mind.
❛ stop it ——— please stop ;; it HURTS. ❜
his whispers match those from his memories – how he BEGGED. just let jane go. he’ll suffer FOR her. how he’d screamed for his mother before he watched them kill her in their revelry. ❛ MOTHER… make it s t o p. ❜ oh, what a time for jane to be out of the castle – for she’s the only one who was able to comfort him. fingers move to his throat, clawing at the porcelain like the mist will break free. but it’s not for the mist. it’s for the AIR he thinks he needs. breathing then meant taking in pure SMOKE. smoke that smelt of his twin’s flesh. how he’d tried to hold his breath. his chest aches along with the burn in his throat, both from the mist && from his hunger. how badly he’d wanted to kill everyone in that village right then && there. these memories do nothing but fuel that.
leave him, the voice is strong in his head— as it COMMANDS him to do everything that alec deserves. to leave him IN HIS SUFFERING, like alec had left him. charlie may not know fire upon his skin, but he did know what it was like to have that little red thread, SNAPPED. the one holding their lives together, the one that represented THEIR BOND. he’d known nothing more cruel, than that letter. than that PAIN in his heart, when he realized that alec was gone. that he had LEFT HIM, to a house that… despite his mother’s BEST EFFORTS… were not a home. his family, they loved him— his grandfathers, his grandmothers, his aunts and uncles. they loved him. and so did THE WOLVES. but it was his father that made him feel most ISOLATED. and alec, his savior from that feeling— left him to it. left him TO edward’s gaze, and the way he spoke. like charlie weren’t the same little boy, the volturi had taken. he wasn’t charlie, the LITTLE BABE he’d pulled from his mother. but some being wearing his face.
that feeling, decimated him in many ways. HIS HOPES, to rekindle a relationship with his father; stomped out, by finely tailored shoes.
and so as he sees alec there, crying out like a babe for his mother— part of HIS MIND, the one that fights HIS HEART… says to leave him, to find caius; and ignore the cries of his WOULDBE lover. the one he’d let have his heart, without so much as asking for one in return. it was a mistake, a FOOLISH MISTAKE made by a little boy who didn’t know what the REAL WORLD was. he only knew his books, and the inside of volterra. and everything they had fabricated for him, were just a fairy tale. one he BELIEVED whole-heartedly with alec there, to keep the vale of lies over his eyes. then he pulled it free, and everything he thought he knew WAS WRONG.
his heart however, his heart aches for the way alec cowers— and it foolishly pushes him FORWARD; despite the pleas of a rational mind, telling him to stay his distance. for oh, that would be the smart thing. the thing that would KEEP HIM from getting hurt. but his heart doesn’t care if it gets HURT, not like his mind does… because it’s already been hurt, it’s been STOMPED on and CRUSHED; but he’s piecing it back together… slowly but surely. this might ruin the progress of the restructure; but his heart would have it no other way, for his mate is hurting.
fingers reach out, ghosting over alec’s elbow; slowly curling around it, in attempts to pull the vampire’s nails from his throat where stone skin, chips from THE EXPANSE of his neck. he’s hurting himself, and charlie WINCES… whether it be from the internal struggle that is his mind versus his heart… or from seeing alec in SUCH SHAPE, the boy can not quite discern. he does know however, that what he feels in his chest; is pain. and it hurts.
❛ alec? ❜ followed by a THUMP-THUMP, of a roaring heart; does the boy speak, his tone soft like a lullaby. ❛ — stop, you’re hurting yourself … ❜
a snake is a creature that is majestic to observe ;; terrifying to encounter in the wild. a snake is raised to know prey versus predator -- && to know it can challenge BOTH. hiding in plain sight, a snake has time to track what it wants -- to appear peaceful && calm. the moment you think you are safe is the moment you become prey. alec has been this way since birth -- READY to pounce, but never visibly fixated in an intimidating posture. jane was the one who was easily spotted -- but it didn’t matter ;; once she was mad, it was over. alec drew out his attacks from the shadows. he got you when you were not expecting it. you were prey.
BUT CHARLIE IS N O T HIS PREY.
that distinction might be known to a man who was not sure he was burning alive at the moment ;; to a BOY who was not scared of a death that had failed to claim his life so many years ago. but that boy is the one curled against a wall, whispering for a woman whom is no more than dust to save him now. never in his right mind would he hurt charlie. he could never bring himself to do so. but he is not the alec charlie has grown to know ;; he’s the boy that was FERAL from the start of his immortal life. && just like a snake, backed into a corner && touched without his consent, HE STRIKES FORWARD WITH A HISS.
his teeth are BARED like an animal that’s been starved to death. in truth, that’s what he is. his hands are pressed into his biceps, eyes BLIND to what he’s doing. his mind sees nothing but the villagers who DARED hurt the twins. focused on the chance he could have gotten if aro hadn’t taken them down for the twins. he doesn’t know what he’s doing. && in a flash of pearly whites, his teeth CLAMP down onto his exposed collarbone, tearing his skin with the ease a human would have of biting through bread. blood spills down his skin, easily claimed by starved tongue that laps it from the wound. VENOM meets dhampir blood.
it’s not his sight returning that causes him to realize what he’s done. it’s not the boys VOICE. it’s the taste of his blood. never in his life has blood ever tasted so intoxicating that he’s had to PRY himself away. after so long in his undead state, the killing was more fun than the blood. so he knows. he knows who he’s attacked. he knows the sound of the heartbeat that he’d once allowed himself to think was his own, now beating just under his lips. SENSE returns in a rush as he forces himself backwards, back hitting the wall once more as his hand clamps over his mouth, trying to force back his desire to finish what he’d started. the bloodied mess in front of him is NOT a sight he wanted scarred into his mind. his jaw drips blood from each sharp edge, curling around his wrist && down his arm. CRIMSON hues burn brighter than ever as he stares at the boy, fear from before now fear that he’s actually become to monster to burn.
mixedbloods:
he were a light sleeper without alec’s nullifying ability; it was why there was such a problem, when he was first REINTRODUCED to the cullen house hold. it were far smaller than castle volterra, and far more busy. the OLYMPIC COVEN, spent their time amongst each other; talking, speaking, and at the time… it were all about him. driving his young mind wild, as they spoke OF HIM from the other side of the cottage. oh, how he’d wanted to block them out. but he hadn’t had his practise. not WITH ALEC, and the way he spoiled him so.
alec would take away his ability to hear; until all he could feel, were THE THUMPING of his own heart… the rhythmic beat-beat-beat, enough to bring pale eye lids, drooping shut. and then HE WAS GONE, and all he had were their voices. speaking of him, speaking of alec. like they knew alec would leave him. like they knew it WOULDN’T WORK, or that it were all a trick— far before charlie had EVER EVEN thought of the possibility. ah, it were like a slap across the face; an ‘i told you so’, when he knows it were NEVER meant to be that way.
closing his eyes this time around didn’t help, and even when he did fall asleep— ALEC WAS THERE, his smile turning from something kind to something cruel; twisting dreams, pleasant and light… to DARK and FOREBODING. ah, for years he wondered if he deserved it; if it were a lesson he needed to learn in order to grow. but oh, how painful of a lesson it were. one that he didn’t recover from. not like a normal child would. for teens have their hearts broken seemingly EVERY OTHER WEEK. but when charlie’s were broken… it weren’t the same, and it was noticed by his family. even by HIS FATHER, who deemed him a stranger, with his son’s face.
his mate in a way REJECTED HIM, and none of his family had ever experienced that. and so after their dozens, if not hundreds of attempts to aid HIS PAIN; they had left it for time to heal, and maybe time would’ve healed it. if charlie weren’t dragged back to the place where it all started. and if he weren’t AWOKEN, by the sound of a body hitting the floor. it startles him, the ‘child’ jostling from his resting form to sit up in bed. his hair a mess of WILD CURLS— and his eyes, brown like liquid umber; wide as he stares down to the form trembling on his floor.
it’s alec, it’s alec, it’s alec; HE CAME BACK.
charlie CHOKES ON AIR, unable to form words at the fear that emanates off of the vampire’s form. so clear, like it were crystal and a thing so solid that he could touch it. oh, he’s never quite seen alec like this… BLACK EYED, and horrified. he looks like a child, a little boy CAUGHT in the boogeyman’s grasp. and that part of charlie that loves him screams for him to move forward, to take the back of his head in his grasp AND LULL him out of it. while the other tells him to STAY PUT… god, the two sides of his heart prove to be at war with one another for he doesn’t move… not at first; and then he’s DAMN NEAR falling out of bed himself; moving slow, hesitant, and even afraid himself… towards the male’s side.
❛ … alec … ? ❜
he doesn’t hear him at first ;; doesn’t see him. not that it MATTERS. the second he hears anyone -- senses anything coming towards him, he’s crawled backwards -- speed immeasurable to a mortal. his back hits the wall -- ROCK ON ROCK in a BANG. no one will check on the noise -- why should they ? he can’t get the images to stop ;; they’re burning his mind from the inside out. he doesn’t care that his back HURTS like he’s cracked his skin it with the force of his own actions.
he can’t see charlie ;; just goading faces glad to see him burning. he can practically FEEL the flames in his bones from the v i v i d display his mind is using against him. is this PUNISHMENT for what he’s done to charlie ? some cruel joke his human life is using against him ? he feels like the smoke is in his lungs -- && in truth, his own mist has caused his problem ;; it’s twisting around him like a coil, stealing his sight from him && filling his lungs like a TOXIN. events like these have happened naught since he was a new born ;; when the pain was fresh in his mind.
❛ stop it --------- please stop ;; it HURTS. ❜
his whispers match those from his memories -- how he BEGGED. just let jane go. he’ll suffer FOR her. how he’d screamed for his mother before he watched them kill her in their revelry. ❛ MOTHER. . . make it s t o p. ❜ oh, what a time for jane to be out of the castle -- for she’s the only one who was able to comfort him. fingers move to his throat, clawing at the porcelain like the mist will break free. but it’s not for the mist. it’s for the AIR he thinks he needs. breathing then meant taking in pure SMOKE. smoke that smelt of his twin’s flesh. how he’d tried to hold his breath. his chest aches along with the burn in his throat, both from the mist && from his hunger. how badly he’d wanted to kill everyone in that village right then && there. these memories do nothing but fuel that.
it were true that nothing in his chamber had changed, from books- dozens of them, unchanged… to music. a phonograph sits in the corner of the room, the kind with a lead painted funnel from which music would pour. vinyls laid stacked on a satin covered bench, and his easel; still covered in stains from paints of many kinds- stood leant against the far right wall… he’s sure if he goes through the chest at the foot of his bed; he’d find all of the things he had left behind. clothes, treasured items, and sheet music.
charlie isn’t sure how long he walks through the room, and he isn’t sure why he does… for everything in it, has some tie to the male that caused the pain in his chest. whether it be the piano, the paintings ( some of which were of the vampire ) or of the phonograph. alec would bring him discs, from which new music would play. most of it were classical, and came from the vast collection the volturi had accumulated after so many years— but it were still in the mind of a child caged, a gift… almost everything came from alec, or at least were given to him by his hands… and part of the teen says to burn it all.
the part of him that were angry. the part of him that bleeds, like he were an open wound. and he hates his heart for that. hates that when alec let him feel, that it had to be in his arms… that it had to appeal to the beating organ; as it ached in his chest, for the feeling of alec there at his side once more.
fist hits bed side table, cracking wood; as he thinks of all of the things they had done… of the nights where alec would lull him to sleep… and help him stay there. he would drown out the screams. he would block out everything— and leave charlie to his dreams… and then there were moments, where no sleep happened at all; not that night… hours of something he isn’t proud of. of their limbs tangled and their mouths joined. he feels his body flood with heat, and determines it to be from his anger… when he knows it were anything but.
surprisingly however, sleep comes to him easily— the moment he lays down, it seems minutes later he’s drifting. oh, the flight had taken the energy out of him; to adjust to the time difference would take weeks… but he’d get it eventually, like he had to when he’d first been taken. only this time were different, this time he didn’t fight back. this time, he wouldn’t let anyone else either. he were going, and he went willingly. it’s what he dreams of in fact, his mother’s tears and her anger. his father’s steeled expression, his eyes never quite finding charlie’s. for things never really changed, even when alec left… edward still didn’t look at him. and charlie got used to it. got used to the fact he’d never be the same little boy that his father loved, and had stolen away.
but what he couldn’t get used to was alec being gone. was the letter that he hears repeated in his head over… and over. if he’s a goddamn mistake, let him be the best one. oh, that’s the part of him that loves alec speaking… the part of him that hates him, says to watch all of these things that held their memories… burn.
he’s not sleeping peacefully. he can tell by the way his eyes flutter. the way his fingers twitch at his sides as if looking for something to anchor him in place. he’d been able to comfort him once. maybe if he just looked into his mind he’d be able to see if he were open to the comfort once more. he knows he shouldn’t ;; but he’d be lying if he didn’t feel compelled by the boys very BREATH to do anything for him.
so he’s at his side in a graceful move, cold fingers just barely touching the tips of his fingers. the onslaught of pain the boy is experiencing is enough to choke up the immortal -- charlie didn’t deserve to suffer the way he had. alec had all but convinced himself that leaving would make everything better for him ;; it had to. alec was the problem -- remove the problem, save charlie. but it would seem the problem ran deeper than he’d originally seen.
but then his mind is filled by one very clear image ;; himself. their nights together were something he too remembered vividly. { something he knew his twin had to know. she was no fool. } but then that PLEASURE && LOVE is replaced with FLAMES ;; smoke && ashes && pain. if there’s a stark difference between the two twins, it’s their relationship with fire. while jane allowed herself to be consumed by the flames -- to take them into her veins and burn anyone who spited her. he tried to escape them ;; FEARED their wrath && fled. allowed the smoke to FILL HIS LUNGS with every scream. their powers manifested from there. as he sees the flames && smoke wrapped around things that alec had LOVED && given to charlie -- he can’t help but see himself wrapped in the same fury.
so his hand RECOILS like he’s being burned, a sharp gasp leaving his lips as his eyes take on a FEAR he hasn’t allowed himself to feel in so long. he hadn’t even noticed his powers had dissipated in his catatonic state. his mind is filled not by charlie’s thoughts, but by distorted memories of his human death ;; fuzzy && mostly fueled by aro’s retelling of the event -- CRUEL FACES CHEERINg as he && jane SCREAMED for their lives. flames licking up bare legs && searing off skin like he were nothing more than a rag doll. he’s never been so badly triggered by the sight of flames. no, it’s because it’s CHARLIE that thought it. he’s not even noticed he’s fallen onto the ground, mind too consumed with the onslaught of torturous memories to take stock of his surroundings. he was always more susceptible to these RISKS when he was starving himself. he was nearly at the brink where he was forced to feed.
the problem with charlie is he is an ALL TOO FEELING boy. with a heart too big for his chest. and hands TOO SMALL, to touch all the lives he wishes he could. one of which, held him now. one who had lived, and had died, and lived again for A TIME inhuman. yet, the circumstances of CHARLIE’S BIRTH… brings him no fear of this. no awe, and no shock. he knows alec. knows very well in mortal minds that he SHOULD be a skeleton, buried SIX FEET UNDER. but the truth is, he’s not and charlie… is glad that he isn’t.
THAT BEING SAID, he can touch alec now. only it seems the vampire had other ideas, and had enough of charlie’s rage and his spite… and had ROBBED HIM of his sense of feeling. a thing, that made up MOST of what charlie were. he felt so many things…. more than just the physical. he were an angel, born FROM DEATH and from the blood of a monster. A MONSTER, who too… like alec, had once lived and once died… only to live again.
the difference now, is his father… WOULDN’T DO THIS. he may be cold, and distant… he HAS been, ever since charlie was taken to volterra. but he wouldn’t do this. no, he refused to use his power on charlie. refused to read his mind, EVEN WHEN charlie needed him to. to know that he WASN’T OKAY. to know that he needed help. he shut charlie out entirely. where as alec, used his gift and swallowed THE DHAMPIR whole. STEALING everything his heart wishes it could feel.
and then it was back… not all of it, but some of it, and he could feel an arm under his knees; another at his back, cradling him to their chest… which DEFINED the person to be male; and… hopefully (he spits at his heart for THE TREACHERY) it were alec. because in THE END charlie is very much…. still in love, with someone he now believed to never have loved him. oh, such a TRAGIC TALE… it would send those weak hearted to end their lives— but not charlie… he were alive, and very much so despite what alec HAD DONE. and because he was alive, he were here…
here in alec’s arms where his screaming had ceased, and his whimpering had calmed… the boy knew where he was, was safe. for NO PAIN resonated through his bones. no, only the feeling of cold flesh to his own; a familiar feeling, for most HE KNEW were in fact dead… along with the person, the first person- he had given his heart to. the one who ripped it out, threw it to the floor… and CRUSHED it beneath his foot.
ITS FOR THIS REASON that charlie shouldn’t forgive him, but here in his arms; he wants to. he wants everything to be over. FOR EVERYTHING to go back to the way it were… but as he feels himself being set down, he knows this moment of INTIMACY is over… and if he could whine he would; one last ‘alec’, slurred past PETAL TONED lips— his eyes coming to open, only minutes after when naught even the phantom of his presence remained.
how did he even know it was real?
❛ ….come back— ❜
HE HEARS HIM. of course he does ;; his ears have become so in tune with the sound of charlie’s voice. seven years did not lessen that for the immortal. he would always know every little sound charlie made ;; every breath, every whimper, every time he ever said he loved him. it never left his mind. it was why he REFUSED to let aro touch him -- how he just BERATED the father figure with accusations of how he must not trust alec if he HAS to see his memories. to trust alec is to trust a snake in the grass.
alec can’t go to him right now. jane wanted his attention. it wasn’t worth upsetting her again ;; it had taken far too long to get back into her good graces. he rakes a hand through his hair in agitation with himself. he has to focus on jane -- so he relaxes himself, allowing his presence to be with her. eventually she’s called, && he dismisses himself on the premise of needing some time alone. that much, he’s DEMANDED be respected.
when he goes back to him, it’s late. he can hear the gentle breath that once quite nearly lulled the immortal to sleep for years. how he craved sleep -- an eternal exhaustion had consumed him many a decade ago. mist sweeps under the male’s door, easily finding the dhampir && stealing away his sense of sound as he once did nightly. it was the easiest way to make sure he was comforted && had no reason to wake. he enters the room, dark hues adjusting easily to the dark. the boy is sound asleep -- it makes it easier to be around him. he’s not looking at him like he’s the devil reincarnate. how he wants to rest beside him && look after him. but he stays in the dark corner, sure that the moonlight from outside will not touch him. this does nothing to assuage his feelings -- take away his desire to FIX everything.
down and back he falls, like a bag of bricks ; as feeling LEAVES HIM— and as if the world were pulled out from beneath his feet. GOD, he hates the darkness. he hates it, and how DEAFENING it is. how it seems to swallow him whole, and the fear it brings him. especially in a moment like now when he can’t feel if alec has CAUGHT him or not. if he’s hit the ground, or is pressed to an icy chest. he’s numb, and he’s blind; and he CAN’T hear his own voice. it’s DISTORTED when he speaks, his words fumbled and stuttered as he tries to form them when he can’t feel HIS OWN lips. he doesn’t know if he’s talking— and it’s the MOST POWERLESS feeling in the world. a terrifying abyss of nothing, to be trapped suspended within.
❛ alec— ❜ his name is slurred like a drunk man’s vocabulary. and GOD is the boy’s head a mess of PANIC. of trying to get his fingers to work. the effort is there, and it strains the boy as he attempts to fight off the fog which holds him under MURKY WATERS. waters which he sees now in his MINDS EYE. as if he were submerged, the thought process is clear… he’s DROWNING, and yet he can breath. but cannot surface.
he’s stuck below BLACK, murky depths, looking upward to the barest flicker of light, and each second is a struggle. a struggle to lift his arm, and reach for the light TAUNTING him from above charcoal waters. it’s drifting FARTHER AWAY, and charlie screams. both AUDIBLY in alec’s world, and in charlie’s own mind. only one is louder than the other, and the loudest of them all is in HIS MIND.
for oh, his mind had been a colorful place;A LIVING PAINTING, forming itself in different colors and images each second. it were never still, and it were never silent. his thoughts, brought with them FEELING and EMOTION. the only emotion alec receives now is a loneliness so deep and covered up by those that had been around him in FORKS, that it’s almost IMPOSSIBLE to see. but once it is felt, it is suffocating. he misses alec, even now while in his arms— as if this moment made the VAMPIRE farther from him than any other time. as if that light he were REACHING for were happier times, where here as the murky liquid that traps him below…. were the times he lives now.
❛ alec … ❜
the SCREAMING does little to unnerve the vampire. these hallowed halls are FILLED with the shrieks of the pained. he can’t help but drown it out ;; even if the one coming from the boy’s MIND is enough to drive him insane. it’s not the scream that draws a touch of CONCERN to his porcelain countenance ;; it’s the fact charlie is able to say his name -- HE is who he calls out to when he thinks he’s been left alone to suffer. it’s not for caius or aro, or even for his mother or his wolf.
he has to steel himself against it. he can’t let it be known how WEAK he is for this half-human. he’s sworn to jane && the others that it was merely a PLOY to get under the cullen’s skin. that charlie meant nothing to him in the least. but that was easily said when he was across the planet from the dhampir. right now, he’s in his arms -- warm && ALIVE && terrified of alec. as he should be. that was how their lives had to be. there was no BEAST && BOY love story to be told. just pain && regret.
the second time charlie speaks his name, alec’s jaw clenches like he’s been punched -- again. it’s so GENTLE ;; so innocent. scared. how he craved that tone in his victims. charlie was NOT his prey.
he speeds himself up so that he can reach the male’s room ;; he couldn’t let himself be so exposed to the coven awaiting his return. he hurries inside && contemplates his move. then he does what he SHOULDN’T. he sits onto the edge of the bed with the other on his lap, cold arms wrapped around him ;; COMFORT. he can’t feel it. oh, but CAN ;; for alec’s unknowingly allowed his power’s grip to lessen just slightly -- enough to know he’s being held, at least. his focus was JARRED by his words. he can feel the way his hand brushes the back of his neck && brushes his hair.
but then he can HEAR jane asking where he is. he can’t stay. so he lays him onto the bed && presses the most FAINT kiss he can to his forehead. he might as well have felt like wind. he’s gone && far down the corridor before he releases charlie from the mist, returning his senses.
expression reels, like he’d BEEN HIT himself— struck across the face by alec’s words; before the features of his face, steel. his stance becoming RIGID and STIFF, his spine straight and shoulders TAUT. charlie thought he knew what he was. he was different, but his mother said different wasn’t bad. that HE WERE special, and that special were good. he WAS the life that his father never knew he were capable of making. the breath in HIS LUNGS, the light in his eyes. he were such a thing, for naught only his father. but mother, aunt and uncle. for THE COVEN, and the wolves as a whole.
charlie-carlilse, were A BEACON when he was born. a bloodied babe, born from his mother’s LAST breath while she lay there dying. but was a beacon none the less. a light so bright and untarnished. he had been CHERUBIC, with every smile. his eyes, bright like two snow globes with THE WORLD held within each one. but now he’s fractured. only time will heal him. which unfortunately he has plenty of. too much time to make HIS WOUNDS either better— or worse.
this place however, DAMNED THEM to grow wider, to fester and grow with gangrene. there were no safety here. no hope. nothing but the BLACK VOID which alec rendered himself. a void, charlie thought he had PIERCED years ago when he saw a light so FAINT, that he thought it were only an illusion. alec’s heart beat, when it was said to be dead— and charlie let himself believe a CHILDREN’S fairytale, of a beast and a boy and a happily ever after.
CHILDISH SPITE builds in his lungs like smoke from a fire; mutt, mutt, mutt, mutt— he’s no mutt, he’s a wolf. and charlie doesn’t have to A DAMN THING alec tells him to. he could step closer, force him TO HEAR the sound of his heart beat and look him in the eye. so he knows what he did, and doesn’t forget. he made something DARK in something once IMPOSSIBLY BRIGHT. for though volterra could not ruin him, alec’s words surely with time could.
❛ …. no. ❜
ANGER is boiling in his veins ;; daring to make him LASH OUT like a coiled snake. he’s angry at the dhampir for coming back here ;; for making him feel what he did not wish to feel. but he’s angry at HIMSELF, too. angry that he’d allowed himself to become to VULNERABLE to something so idiotic as love. disgusted with himself for the fact that DESPITE the knowledge given that he did love this male, he knew he could still tear him limb from limb with only SLIGHT remorse. he’d truly become a thing to FEAR. how proud caius would be.
charlie’s STUBBORNNESS is infuriating. just GO. make yourself SAFE ;; god knows you’re not safe in alec’s presence. he couldn’t even trust himself to not harm to boy he’d once called his lover. ❛ you’re stubbornness will be your downfall, ❜ his voice is cold. he has to be emotionless. can’t let him know he’s battling his own mind. the side of him that wants to say he’s SORRY for everything && fix it against the side of him that has known the light of day FAR LONGER ;; the side that was nothing more than a voided killer.
so he does what he MUST ;; allows the fine mist to brush from his fingertips down to the floor, curling around charlie’s ankles && rendering him victim to the darkness. no senses. just the darkness that alec allowed himself to call home. he’s quick to catch the other when he falls, a scowl curling his lips as he smells every scent lingering on the boy ;; WOLVES. CULLENS. OTHERS. he lifts him up into his arms, very aware that charlie wouldn’t know he was being TOUCHED, much less CARRIED.
his room isn’t far. it would take him seconds to get there if he ran. but he doesn’t -- just walks. he won’t give up his one chance to be close to the other, even in a way that was against the boys will. he’d return his senses once he was alone in his room. till then, he just carries him, far too aware of the fact he was holding skin ;; how his jaw sets at the images that become his own mind.
anger oh, how it boils inside of him— turning his insides RAW, and his heart a BLEEDING red. for with each pound of the organ, he swears he can feel it tearing itself apart. the ferocity of each thump, SHAKING HIM down to the marrow of his bones. for if anything, charlie is an ever-feeling boy. with TOO BIG of a heart, to fit inside of his body. and right now? he feels like it were an open wound, festering with each NEGATIVE emotion; that eats away at the GOOD.
for charlie were a fragile thing; made of stars, of sunlight and flower-laden fields. he were a SPRING BREEZE, and trickle OF SUNLIGHT through the branches of trees. he were angel-incarnate. yet now he was fractured… and breaking at THE SEAMS. as if the porcelain skin he bares, were not STRONG ENOUGH to keep within all that it holds.
like he were a GLASS DOLL dropped to cold ground below, he feel’s as if he were laying BROKEN at the end of a steep drop. pieces of bone-white china, scattered around; and bleeding the red ink, which painted ROSE-TINTED lips. and oh, no one is helping him. they’re walking over his pieces with an audible crunch, THE SOUND of each step resounding in his ears, SHARP and never ending.
for his mother was his cure and the wolves his comfort. NEITHER OF WHICH he has to protect him from this. though their scent still lingers strong on his collar.
❛ SHUT UP— ❜ fingers threaten to take hold of the front of alec’s cloak, threaten to shake him silly and scream ‘WHY’, to get an answer from his cherubic form; that looks at him with eyes, that had once gazed upon him so fondly— yet now look at him with THE HARSH REALITY, that is his cruelty. ❛ you don’t know anything, shut up. ❜
❛ ANYTHING ? says the MUTT of creature that’s hardly lived a FRACTION of my life. ❜ his words taste like BILE. ❛ i know you. i once had direct access to your mind, REMEMBER ? i know what makes you TICK. ❜ he can’t allow charlie to remain in volterra -- he can’t bear to have him here. to be reminded of how DARK of a creature he’d become in comparison to the ANGEL that was charlie cullen.
yes, charlie was FRAGILE. it made it all to easy for alec to break him in two. ❛ you’re ANGRY because i didn’t CARE. but the fault is on you, little one. you put your trust in me. in THE MOST HATED VAMPIRE IN THE WORLD. because you thought you saw a LIGHT ? that light has been snuffed out. it’s been that way for a millennium. i don’t know what you saw. ❜
none of those words are forced. it’s been the only thought on his mind for years now ;; how STRANGE it was for alec to have self-depreciating thoughts. he’d once had an ego bigger than anyone’s. { save perhaps jane. } but now he had a comparison point. one he’d CARED for. now there was light in him ;; if only from the hole carved straight through his chest.
❛ i won’t repeat myself. go to your room. go back to washington for all that i care. just stay VERY far away from me. ❜
annoying? — oh he were a MISTAKE, this he can accept; seeing the pain he brings his mother & father, enough proof of it. but to be annoying? SEEMS to be, as if alec wished to add salt to his wounds. wounds that FESTERED in his heart, as the words in his letter, were carved into his the bleeding organ; as if to remind him, that he were only A CHILD… and that children, know nothing of love. he was blinded by HIS YOUTH, blinded by the promises of what he’d read IN BOOKS. and he trusted the wolf, that the axeman should have SLAIN.
FIST strikes out fast— far faster than he would have years ago (hitting alec in the jaw). for to this day, he is growing. maybe not physically, NOT ANYMORE— but as his power grows, so does HIS strength, and HIS speed. his nails are sharp, as are his teeth and his heart. for though it warms, and it softens for the WOLVES, for his MOTHER, and mortal grandfather. it goes hard AS STEEL in a place like this. that reminds him of a time, he given no choice but to be happy with HIS CAGE.
however, with his return happiness is no longer. this place brings to him SHADOWS of regret. GHOSTS of a time he thought to be true, but were false. they were lies, and he can hear jackal’s as if they were GROWLING right into his ear. for that’s what these people are. jackals, picking at the carcasses of those they had DECIMATED.
❛ i HATE you. ❜
if there is ONE THING alec is not USED to, it’s being struck. NO ONE DARED. everyone feared him ;; for good reason. most who even raised a hand to the little prince were decimated where they stood. he never gave anyone a chance to be close enough. but then came along this little BOY. { he’s nothing but a TODDLER to the immortal. a toddler who’s idealistic view of the world would cut a hole into his chest. } to be STRUCK by someone such as charlie is insult enough ;; but with their history ?
TIME SLOWS for just the second that the first connects to his jaw ;; sharp emotion is FORCED into his mind as he takes in the boys own mind. how painful it felt -- such a burst of emotion is enough to blind the vampire ;; what with him not allowing even the smallest of emotions to break his focus these days. the punch knocks him back two steps -- if not be physical force, then emotional. his face contorts -- eyes wide with more { SHOCK } than pain. perhaps the words would wound someone else further. not alec. if anything, they’re what give him the resolve to stand up tall once more.
❛ was that meant to HARM me ? ❜ his jaw SETS in defiance to the punch. he can handle himself. handle the way his heart CRAVES skin-to-skin contact so that he can peer into the boys mind. ❛ pathetic. ❜ he can’t allow charlie to think for even a moment that he’s actually affected by his presence. so he must become like the STONE he’d once been before this child cracked him open.
CHARCOAL HUES glance away from the dhampir, unable to bring himself to acknowledge his pain. the dark purple under his eyes digs into his cheekbones, making him look TIRED – marring the cherubic fragility of his countenance. nothing so perfect should look this drained. he moves to cross his arms behind his back. had it truly been so long ? how little time meant. ❛ would you like for me to show you to your room ? ❜ his hostility is met with ICE – accent COLD && DEVOID of the warmth he’d once spoken to the boy with.
charlie still looks like AN ANGEL— the warmth of his anger, fueling the warmth in his heart. for though it aches for the howling OF WOLVES, and for the TENDER TOUCH of his mother’s hands. he knows, in the end it beats faster and harder for one thing— for one person, AND one person only. and it beats now, so fast in his chest. charlie hates this fact, hates that he can’t stop it COMPLETELY, to keep it silenced from alec’s ALL-HEARING ears; but he isn’t dead, no he’s living. and he’s breathing. he is near everything that alec was ONCE, but can never be again. human. if only half.
❛ — i know where it is, ❜ but the room, it’s STAINED with alec; stained by the two of them, and the memories they made. whether it be with the countless books, or GRAND PIANO. they walked these very halls, talking. just talking. and then there were other things, things charlie can’t DARE to speak; for he would choke on air thinking of such things, for they would bring him regret. and pain. SO MUCH of it, that he wouldn’t be able to feel anything else. not without his mother, to guide him free.
how he WISHES he could ignore the sound of charlie’s oh so HUMAN HEART. he doesn’t want to remember how it sounded whenever they were near to each other ;; or the way he could FEEL human when holding his hand -- how charlie’s heartbeat became his own. none of these things are worth the pain that also came with these memories. he knows all too well what images are moving through the boys brain. what he must be feeling. alec has grown all too used to feeling nothing once more. to have him back, just out of reach ? he feels as though a vice grip has clamped is talons around his throat.
❛ then go to it. your heartbeat is annoying me. ❜