#for felix

[the-volturi-diaries]

oh my gosh, surely you have anymore secret headcanons for felix you’re willing to divulge deeper into… for us?? 🛐

^that is me silently begging for crumbs

Anon just asked for headcannons so I went with whatever came to mind in regards to him *ahem*

(some NSFW stuff ahead so keep reading below the cut)

In case you haven't read my Wild Swan fic, I HC that Felix had green eyes as a human and often wears green contacts for that very reason. He also occasionally adds glasses to a human disguise.

While Demetri is afraid of being alone (and has stopped believing that he'll ever find love), Felix never doubted that love would come to him...no, his greatest fear is failure, that as mighty as he is, he will fail to protect that love and it only makes him more protective over you.

He loves roses, cypress and willow trees, and the ocean.

And snow! Felix loves the snow, especially since the cold doesn't bother him anymore. On snowy days/nights, he'll just start wandering and keep it up forever, on occasion, Demetri has to be sent to find him (cue image of a bare-chested Felix, walking through the snow on a moonlit night, and you all bundled up beside him, thinking him glorious).

He loves to show off for you, be it a battle of fits or the battlefield itself, fucking you after a victory is the most sacred tradition for him.

On that note, he's fooled around with Demetri in the past and would not mind if you did the same, be it a threesome with Demetri or his dear friend warming your bed while Felix is away/busy and cannot see to your needs (but he really wants to listen on the phone to it).

Towers over everything and everyone and he LOVES it, especially when it comes to you (*cough* size kink *cough, cough*). Teases you endlessly about, insists on reaching for things just out of your reach (but who put them up there Felix??? Who put them there, because it wasn't Y/N!!), and loves the way you look on his arm...the big, hulking giant and his beauty.

He has degrees in History, Archelogy, Paleontology, and Literature and that's barely touching the subject, Felix is an incredibly intelligent man (cue image of Felix in his personal library, glasses perched on his nose and a slightly un-buttoned shirt, sleeves rolled up to expose his scarred forearms), not just the big/terrifying/bloody executioner people portray him as (I mean, yes, he's all of those things, but there is so much more to him!!!)

No matter how many times he sees them, he will never tire of the sunrise, sunset, and the stars. They never cease to be beautiful to him.

He occasionally keeps a diary but, honestly, rarely writes in it. His life if rather mundane and he has a perfect memory anyway, so what's it matter? The day he meets you is the day he starts writing again, your love story poured out onto the pages. Should the two of your cease to exist, one thing will remain to those who find his writings: Felix Volturi loved you.

And to end: huge fingers that fit perfectly inside of you and a huge, fat cock that fits even better🖤 thank you for reading.

[sweetwickednemesis]

The fact Smeyer wrote vampires to never have to sleep is so incredibly rude. You are telling me if I was a vampire, I wouldn't be able to see my mate snoozing? A little snore here and there, maybe some drool if they slept well? I'd never hear their little murmurs as they spoke in their sleep? No messy bedhead and confusion after a really good nap?

Absolutely unacceptable.

[half-fae-demon-hunter]

Outside looking at the sculptures thinking

(After Atti and Kwan went inside)

(For @behind-happy-smiles )

[secret-realm]

I started reading the other stories on Fictic to collect more stars and buy the paid options on Felix's story.

But then I spent some stars on Howie's story, and now I'm sooo into buying one of the options from Nicky's story

HELP ALDNAMSBKA

Nononono

I need to save the stars for Felix

[lixseu]

I want to tell Felix how much i love him

And cuddle him

And kiss him

And pinch his cheeks

And just-

GIVE HIM LOVE

[qcrip]

Sometimes you just have to stare out the window of a moving car and like think about osmosis jones

[stickyrunawayangelsworld]

Not Another Love Poem i can see it now; us running from our demons. my god, how they’ve grown into the people we love, into the things we know. we’re on the front porch of my old house, my legs on yours. lit cigarettes and i pull you in close. we are not in love. this is not a love poem. i promise. this is about trying to find something important enough to live for. this is a poem about us trying to cling to the earth despite its determination to exile us. this is about that time someone touched me and took a piece or three of me. this is about how i’m still trying to find that piece of me. i’m still trying to fill the empty gap. this one is for the boy who talks to me once a year and spends the remainder of the year at the bottom of a bottle. he’s been this way a few years now, but he holds all the blame. happy birthday to me, right? this one’s for him because no matter where he’s moved to now, i am still dying but i am surviving and i guess we all have to start from somewhere. this one is for the boy who’s heart i broke a few months ago because i was bored. i’m still sorry and i hope you find real love. this one is for the boy who could never read this because he’s six feet under. the incident that started me on this downward spiral of breaking hearts and breaking my own. the incident that started my drug abuse and my alcoholism. baby, it’s not your fault. i wish you were still here. this one is for the girl who built me up and tore me down. we just clashed on so many different levels, and i wish it could’ve been better. all of slamming doors and fists on walls and all the screaming fits and blocked messages. you’re passed out on xanax in my bed right now, but you still scare me sometimes. this is for the boy who i let in just for him to leave. he’s back again, but like everything with him it will be temporary. that’s how i feel with you, too. this is for nights like tonight, where i trace my scars and remember what it’s like to make more. the hours spent running my fingers along my skin picturing blood, wondering if my body could even handle all the wreckage i want to shove upon it. this one is hoping that i will go years without making more, and maybe to even never wonder again. it goes out to hopes of one day learning how not to hate myself and how to not crave a cold blade. this ones for me and the hopes that i have of finding and loving myself. in hopes that i won’t black out on xanax and that i won’t need substances to feel alright. this one is for me and every picture i ever took that i hated because i just wasn’t enough. one day i will be and i will not drink myself sick and mix prescriptions to feel alright. this one is for my little sister who i swear is perfect. i hope she never feels like the poems i write. this one is for you. for being my lighthouse without even knowing it. this is a thank you to everyone who has ever loved me, and a thank you to everyone who has ever let me love them. and an apology to you, and everyone else who deserves one.

Tuesday, May 9th 2017. 1:23 am. Hopefully the last thing I’ll ever write for you.