synopsis: Carlisle encounters his mate during his stay with the Volturi. However, his mate is noted as being one of the more 'evil' guard members, yet Carlisle can't help but see deeper and fall for it. The reader isn't so keen on this.
For all the centuries Carlisle had roamed the earth, he had never encountered anyone quite like you. He had seen grandeur in architecture, brilliance in art, and compassion in the tender eyes of mortals. But when he first laid eyes on you, one of the Volturi’s most lethal guards, he was utterly unprepared for the impact you would have on him.
Carlisle’s initial impression was one of quiet awe. You stood poised in the grand reception hall of the Volturi fortress, clad in the distinctive blood-red cloak that symbolized your allegiance to Aro. Long, elegant lines formed your silhouette—every inch of you exuded a kind of potent, dangerous allure that was hard to ignore. Perhaps it was the severe cut of your jaw or the dark gleam in your eyes that made Carlisle’s breath catch. But despite the warning prickle of tension in the air, there was something undeniably captivating in your presence.
“I presume you are the esteemed Dr. Cullen.” you said smoothly, voice as cold and refined as the marble walls around you.
Carlisle inclined his head, forcing himself to maintain calm even though his chest felt inexplicably tight. “Yes. Carlisle Cullen,” he replied politely. “I recently arrived at Aro’s invitation.”
You surveyed him with an intensity that made him feel as though every thought he had was laid bare. Carlisle found his gaze lingering on the sharp contour of your cheeks and the elegant line of your mouth. There was a deadly grace about you, but more than that, a magnetic pull he couldn’t explain.
“Word of your…unique lifestyle precedes you,” you remarked, a slight edge of amusement curling your lips. “I suppose you’ll find Volterra quite different from your usual endeavors.”
Carlisle almost smiled in return. “I suspect I will,” he said quietly. Then he glanced around, torn between fascination and a subtle dread of the Volturi’s rigorous methods. “Though I’m eager to see what the Volturi’s world is truly like.”
You nodded curtly, turning on your heel to guide him deeper into the fortress. The moment you moved, Carlisle found himself transfixed by the fluidity of your steps, by the swish of your cloak. He wondered if you realized how captivating you were, or if cruelty and power were all you cared to claim as your own.
As time slipped by in Volterra, Carlisle discovered the Volturi’s customs and tactics were indeed difficult to reconcile with his beliefs. Yet, even amid that discord, he found himself drawn to you. You were everything Carlisle was not: ruthless, unwavering in your loyalty to Aro, and wholly accepting of a vampire’s predator nature. And yet, it was your contradictions that made you all the more alluring.
Carlisle had never believed in the concept of “opposites attract” until he crossed paths with you in the fortress library. He had been reading an antique medical text by the pale light of an ornate lamp, trying to distract himself from the day’s unsettling events, when he heard the soft echo of footsteps.
“Does Cullen also dabble in the history of human medicine?” you teased as you approached, a crimson sash draped diagonally across your chest. Your posture was perfect, your head held high.
Carlisle looked up, the faintest warmth creeping into his golden eyes. “I’ve devoted my life to saving humans. It’s…a passion.” He paused, watching as you took a seat across from him, uninvited and unbothered. “I’m surprised to see you here. I didn’t realize you had an interest in medicine.”
Your lips curved into a small, wry smile. “I don’t. But I was curious to see what keeps you tucked away in this dusty library night after night.”
Something about your directness made Carlisle’s throat tighten. He shut the old tome carefully, inhaling the scent of aged paper. “And now that you’ve seen me, what do you think?”
Leaning forward, you regarded him thoughtfully, your crimson eyes lingering on the gentle lines of his face. Your gaze was unsettling, piercing, but Carlisle found it shockingly intimate. “I think you’re a man out of place—yet you keep striving to adapt. There’s something admirable about that.” Then your smile vanished. “But I also think you’re naive to believe you can find any goodness here.”
Carlisle’s lips parted slightly. “There must be some measure of order, of morality, if the Volturi have kept the vampire world hidden so efficiently for so long. It can’t be all cruelty.”
“Morality?” You laughed under your breath, a low and dangerous sound. “Is that what you think you’ll find among us?” You shook your head, your eyes glinting. “Aro is cunning; Caius is cruel. Marcus is…numb. Morality is a tool, wielded only when convenient.”
And yet, as you spoke, Carlisle couldn’t help but notice how the lamplight highlighted the sculpted angle of your cheekbone, the richness of your voice, the slender cords of muscle in your neck as you half-turned away. He felt drawn to you, as though in another life, you might have fit in the place he dreamed of—somewhere far gentler.
As the weeks passed, Carlisle had more and more reason to question the Volturi’s practices. He witnessed the methodical punishments, the harsh interrogations, and the unwavering loyalty demanded of each guard. And yet, in quiet moments, he also witnessed small kindnesses from you—fleeting but unmistakably real.
Once, in a secluded corridor, he caught you covertly offering a sympathetic word to a newly turned vampire, shaken and afraid. You hid it behind a stern command, but Carlisle recognized the concern flickering in your eyes. Another time, you saved a mortal servant from the wrath of another guard who had lost control. Though you claimed it was only for efficiency’s sake, Carlisle saw the truth. You possessed a depth of compassion you refused to acknowledge.
You confronted Carlisle one evening by the window of the fortress’s grand hall, where silvery moonlight reflected on the polished floor. He was staring out into the silent streets of Volterra, hands clasped behind his back.
“What are you really looking for, Carlisle?” you asked, voice hushed yet insistent.
“I’m not sure,” He answered honestly. “Perhaps reassurance that I made the right choice coming here—or proof that I should leave.”
You lifted your chin, a scoff escaping your lips. “If you despise our methods so much, why stay?”
Carlisle’s gaze drifted to your face, gentling as he took in the faint lines of tension on your brow. “Because I’d hoped to find something good here—someone I could help redeem. And I…” He swallowed, voice trembling with emotion. “I’d hoped you might join me in that.”
You stared at him for a moment, your expression unreadable. Then, to his surprise, you raised a pale hand to brush an errant lock of hair back from his temple. The touch was achingly gentle, contradictory to your reputation for merciless skill in battle.
“Why waste your compassion on me?” you whispered, red eyes flickering.
Carlisle felt his throat tighten at the quiet vulnerability in your question. “It isn’t a waste,” he murmured, turning his head just enough to press into your hand. “I see your strength, your elegance, and beneath it all, a heart that still cares.”
Your lips parted slightly in a faint expression of surprise, but you hardened your gaze, retracting your hand as though burned. “Don’t romanticize me, Carlisle. You’ll only be disappointed.”
Yet, despite your dismissive words, Carlisle could see the faint quiver of your jaw—proof that not everything in you was made of stone.
Carlisle wanted to stay with you—see the connection between you blossom into that of mates—but as time went on, his resolve to leave the Volturi grew stronger. He couldn’t reconcile his moral code with the violence he saw. The tipping point came when he witnessed an unjust execution—one Aro insisted was necessary to maintain secrecy. Carlisle found himself unable to stand by as a life, no matter how tainted, was extinguished without mercy.
He sought you out in the ancient corridor lit by flickering torches. Stone arches framed you like an immortal sculpture, and for a moment, Carlisle’s heart clenched at how beautiful you appeared—like a painting come to life.
“I’m leaving,” he said softly but firmly, stepping closer than he ever had before. “I can’t stay here and watch this cruelty. It goes against everything I believe.”
Your expression hardened, but your eyes betrayed a flash of pain. “So, that’s it?” you asked, voice low. “You leave because reality offends your delicate conscience?”
Carlisle exhaled shakily. “It’s not about being offended. It’s about upholding the sanctity of life. You know that’s my creed.”
You swallowed, the torchlight catching in your hair, illuminating your features in deep shadow and warm highlights. Carlisle’s gaze flickered over your face, taking in every detail—every elegant line, every subtle contour he had come to find so enthralling.
“I already asked you before,” Carlisle continued, breath trembling. “but please come with me. Whatever bond is between us—whatever this is—I can’t bear the thought of leaving it behind.”
He reached out, gently brushing his fingertips along your jaw. The featherlight contact sent a tremor through both of you. For a moment, you closed your eyes as if steeling yourself against an onslaught of emotion.
“Carlisle,” you murmured, the single syllable loaded with longing and heartbreak. Then your eyes opened, scarlet irises locking onto his golden ones. “I cannot follow you. Aro trusts me. I have earned my place here through centuries of service.”
Carlisle’s lips parted, and his chest constricted painfully. “But what about your happiness? Don’t you see there’s more to life than this endless cycle of violence?”
Your jaw tightened. “This is my world. My choice. I’m not like you. I can’t pretend that moral codes and hopeful ideals will keep me safe.” You lowered your gaze. “You have to go. If you stay, you’ll be broken—one way or another.”
Something inside Carlisle cracked, the pain resonating through every fiber of his immortal body. “So that’s it?” he asked, voice faltering. “You choose them over—”
“I’m sorry,” you interrupted, your voice trembling at the edges. “But you have to leave. Now.”
In a final desperate moment, Carlisle pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, lingering just long enough to feel the slight chill of your skin. You stood perfectly still, your eyes sliding shut in silent torment. Then he stepped back, letting the cold air slip between you as though forming an invisible wall.
You remained where he left you, the slow hush of your unneeded breath the only movement. It took several minutes before you opened your eyes, composure already brittle. You touched the spot on your forehead where his lips had lingered, an ache you couldn’t name thudding in your chest. You had chosen your duty over love—and it stung in a way you hadn’t anticipated.
Carlisle eventually found a new life far from Volterra, building a family and fostering the ideals he cherished. Yet in the quiet hours of predawn, when his coven was at rest and the world was still, he thought of you. He recalled the elegantly carved lines of your face, your unwavering stare, and the fleeting softness you revealed only to him.
No matter the distance, no matter how many centuries stretched between him and that fortress of stone, you lingered in Carlisle’s thoughts—an unhealed wound and a cherished secret. He imagined a time you might leave the Volturi’s shadows behind, stepping into the light he so desperately wanted to share with you. Until that day, he carried the memory of your touch and the haunting depth of your eyes. For in the darkest corners of his heart, he still believed you were worthy of love—and that one day, you might finally believe it too.
here’s a few polyamorous relationship headcanons for kate and garrett. the reader is gender neutral so i’ll try to keep things as ambiguous as possible!
warnings? i don’t know… there’ll be a lot of fluff, i suppose! additionally i don’t really know how to write any smutty hcs without getting too descriptive of the reader’s gender, so that won’t be included in this.
Kate and Garrett both have strong personalities and tend to be somewhat competitive in asserting their dominance over each other (and you, of course). They share the same struggle with submitting to one another’s will, neither is comfortable relinquishing control.
There is a constant power struggle between the two, but your presence has created a sense of balance in their lives. Somehow, you had managed to tame the untamable — a feat difficult for some, but easy for you.
While Kate is more mischievous and sarcastic with you, Garrett has proven himself to be rather boisterous and expressive. They are total opposites of each other, and yet without one another everything would feel incomplete.
Kate likes to play with you ;-) there is a strange fondness hidden beneath nearly every remark she makes. Her humor is sharp and effortless, often delivered with a smirk or an amused glance that makes it difficult to tell whether she is teasing you or testing you.
This woman enjoys provoking reactions simply for her own entertainment, tossing dry comments into conversations and watching the chaos unfold with quiet satisfaction.
Unlike Kate’s sharper, more teasing affection, Garrett’s is warm and unguarded — the kind that comes through in playful shoves, exaggerated praise, and an almost reckless enthusiasm whenever he is around you.
Garrett loves loves LOVES telling you about his war stories, particularly in front of Kate. He takes her presence as an opportunity to boast about the battles he's witnessed and fought in, often igniting competition.
Garrett will always be glancing in your direction mid-story to gauge your expressions in order to see whether or not you're impressed by his soldier's tale. Once he knows you're entertained, he'll shoot Kate a cocky smile, which often earns him a rude hand gesture from the hot-headed blonde.
Both of them have made it a habit of watching you sleep. Seeing you in such a vulnerable state jump-starts their protective instincts. They find it so peculiar how humans need to go into a short-term coma for hours just to function for what little time they spend awake the next day.
Once you fall into unconsciousness, Kate keeps her eyes locked onto your sleeping form, never breaking away unless she hears a disturbance nearby. The warrior likes to watch over you while you're resting, just like how she safeguarded her caravan at night back in her mortal life.
Kate can't remember what it's like to sleep, so she often studies you, counting each breath you take and how frequently you move. There's something so fascinating to her about your state of senselessness that she can't quite explain.
She still wonders how it feels to be engulfed in total blackness, allowing your mind to fall into oblivion.
Garrett lies by your side every night, while Kate sits on the bed's edge. He traces shapes on your face when you have trouble sleeping, the soothing motions being circled onto your skin by his fingertips helping you fall asleep instantaneously.
Kate sometimes lays on the other side of you until you fall asleep, but once she knows that you're out cold she'll position herself into a sitting position. She likes to be up and alert so that if there was any threat to your safety, she'd be able to eradicate it immediately.
In the summer, usually when it's really warm out, Garrett and Kate lay close to you in the bed, with barely anything separating the three of you. Most of the time, you're so desperately hot to the point you're practically begging them to take off every article of clothing that's blocking you from their cold marble skin.
During colder months, Kate will make the bed so cozy and warm for you. Having learned to survive out in the wilderness with her tribe, she knows how to preserve heat with almost instinctive precision — layering furs properly, warming fabrics near the fire before bringing them to bed, and surrounding the space with enough softness that the cold outside barely reaches you.
"Babe, you could just buy me a heated blanket," is something you say to Kate a lot, to which she answers with a scoff and an almost offended look, as though the suggestion itself is ridiculous.
“Heated blankets are pathetic,” she mutters back every single time, already tugging another layer over you anyway. “They go lukewarm after ten minutes and then suddenly you’re freezing again.”
Sometimes she follows it with a sarcastic remark about modern technology making people weak, though the faint smile pulling at the corner of her mouth usually gives her away.
Kate takes a strange amount of pride in being the reason you are warm, often tugging you against her chest afterward with an air of smug satisfaction.
Garrett likes to sing to you, whether it’s to help you sleep or calm you down when you’re stressed. He was quite an anxious child, the man you knew now wasn’t always so courageous and boisterous.
There was once a time where the only thing that could soothe Garrett through his panic was his mother’s voice, her soft melodies easing his erratic heartbeat.
Although he had trouble remembering his own mother’s voice, Garrett still could recall the songs she sang to him, and that alone brought him comfort.
He’s actually really good at singing, and telling folktales. Besides his own war stories, Garrett enjoys sharing little tales that he’d tell to his sister at night by their family’s hearth.
Kate let’s you wear her necklace (idk how to describe what the piece looks like but it’s sort of identical to the one Tanya has).
Necklaces pictured below:
The image featured on the left is Kate’s necklace, whilst the one on the right belongs to Tanya.
There has never once been a time where Kate has ever parted with this necklace, so it was a really big deal when she decided to let you wear it for the first time.
Somehow, this occasion was also a way to symbolize her trust in you, as she was sharing an object that’s important to her.
Garrett has his prized ring that he lets you wear. The metal used to make the ring itself had actually been from the first bullet he was shot with during the Revolutionary War.
Kate sometimes likes to fiddle with the ring when it’s on your finger. It’s kind of her way to self-soothe. On a random morning, just as you’re waking up, you might find her twisting it around your one digit, the blonde’s cold hands wrapped around yours as she looks like a cat playing with her favorite toy.
Camping with them is always fun. Making fires, roasting marshmallows, telling stories underneath the Northern Lights in Denali…. What could be better than that?
Garrett and Kate usually have to get up to their usual antics 🙄 such as: seeing who’s the fastest at making a sufficient fire, who can build the best tent for their little human, who can find/prepare an edible meal for you out in the wilderness.
Who wins? It’s a coin toss, really. All that matters in the end is that you don’t find yourself poisoned by some random mushroom or berry they try and feed you (which has never happened before at least not yet).
You’ve attempted feeding Kate and Garrett human food before. They were willing enough to try it, even though the both of them knew it wouldn’t end well for either of them.
Obviously vampires aren’t able to digest food, but the two were so eager to please you and it was kinda obvious to you that this was giving them just another opportunity to compete with each other….
Who ate their portion of food the fastest?
Who could hold down their food the longest?
Who was able to consume more than the other before finally combusting?
Ohhh it made you sick to watch them force it back up their throats. In a way, the scene was almost like watching a snake throw up an undigested rodent that was too big for it to swallow.
Let’s just say you’ve never offered them your food again.
Anyways, that’s it for now. I’m open to requests if anyone has some, otherwise I’ll just wait until I’m inspired to write more (which is hopefully soon 🥲 my apologies for being so slow at updating)
Can you write a one shot where the Denali sisters find out they share a mate, please?
Three Golden Bonds - Denali Sisters
The denali house sat quiet under the Alaskan twilight, snow falling outside the windows and the fire crackled low, not for warmth, but for the comforting scent.
Tanya rested on the sofa, golden eyes half-lidded as she flipped through an old Russian novel. Kate stood by the window, arms crossed, watching the trees as her mind zoned out. Finally, Irina paced near the kitchen island, her movements sharp and restless.
They had felt it for weeks now. A strange, insistent pull. Each of them had experienced it separately, that tug, that scent on the wind, a heartbeat that somehow synced with their frozen ones. But none of them had spoken about it. Not yet.
Until tonight.
The front door opened with a rush of cold air.
She stepped inside, cheeks flushed from the walk up the mountain path, snow dusting her hair and shoulders.
She had met Tanya first, bumping into her in town two weeks ago. Then Kate, who casually happened to be hiking the same trail as her. And then Irina, who had shown up at her door with a basket of supplies for being the new neighbor.
She had no idea they were sisters and even less had no idea they were vampires.
“Hey” she said softly, brushing snow from her sleeves, walking to take a seat on the couch.
Tanya sat up slowly. Her golden eyes locked onto hers with an intensity that made her stomach flutter. Kate turned from the window. Irina stopped pacing.
The air in the room changed.
She felt it immediately — the way all three of them stared at her. Not just looking.
Tanya spoke first, voice low and velvet. “Come here, sweetheart.”
She hesitated only a second before walking closer. As soon as she were within reach, Tanya caught her wrist gently and pulled her down onto the sofa beside her. Kate moved instantly, sitting on the other side. Irina approached from the front, crouching gracefully so she was eye-level with her.
“Um… is everything okay?” she asked, voice small. “You are all looking at me like… I don’t know. Like something is wrong.”
Kate hand slid over her knee, thumb stroking slowly. “Nothing is wrong.” she murmured. “Everything is… suddenly very right.”
Irina reached up and brushed a strand of hair from her face with surprising tenderness. “You feel it too, don’t you?” she whispered. “The pull.”
Her breath caught. She had felt it. With each of them. That strange warmth in her chest whenever Tanya smiled. The way Kate teasing made her knees weak. How safe and seen she felt when Irina looked at her like she was the only real thing in her long, cold life.
“I… I thought I was imagining it.” she admitted, cheeks burning. “I thought maybe I was just… lonely. Or that I was developing feelings for all three of you and something was wrong with me.”
Tanya let out a soft, relieved laugh. She leaned in, pressing her forehead to hers.
“Nothing is wrong with you.” she said. “You are our mate.”
The word hung in the air.
Irina eyes widened. Kate hand tightened slightly on her knee.
“…Our?” Kate repeated, looking at her sisters.
Tanya pulled back just enough to meet their eyes. “Yes. Our. I have felt the bond since the day I first saw her in town. It has only grown stronger.”
Kate exhaled sharply. “So have I. Every time I caught her scent on the wind I had to stop myself from running straight to her cabin.”
Irina voice cracked slightly. “I thought I was losing my mind. I kept finding excuses to see her. I thought… I thought the bond had finally chosen someone just for me after all these years.”
Silence stretched for a long moment.
“We share her.” Tanya said simply. “The three of us.”
She sat there, stunned, pulse racing. Three incredibly beautiful vampire women were all claiming her as their mate. At the same time.
Kate turned her face toward her with gentle fingers under her chin. “Does that frighten you?”
She swallowed. “A little.” she whispered honestly. “But… not as much as it probably should.”
Irina rose from her crouch and sat in front of her, her knees brushing hers. “We would never hurt you.” she said fiercely. “You are the most precious thing any of us has found in centuries.”
Tanya hand slid up her back, rubbing slow circles. “We have always been close, my sisters and I. We have shared nearly everything. But never this.” She looked at Kate, then Irina. “Until now.”
Kate leaned in and pressed the softest kiss to her temple. “If you’ll have us..” she murmured against her skin, “we will love you together. Protect you together. Worship you together.”
Her breath trembled.
Irina hand settled on her thigh, warm despite her vampire nature. “You don’t have to decide tonight. But know this…” She looked up at you with raw vulnerability. “I already ache when I’m away from you. The bond is strong.”
She looked between the three of them — Tanya elegant confidence, Kate playful intensity, Irina quiet passion — and felt something deep inside you settle.
“I don’t want to choose.” She said quietly. “I… I feel it with all of you. I thought I was crazy for it.”
Tanya smile was radiant. She cupped her face with both hands and kissed her first — slow, deep, and full of centuries of restrained longing. When she pulled back, Kate took her place, kissing with more fire, nipping gently at her bottom lip. Irina was last, her kiss the most tender, almost reverent, like she was afraid she might vanish.
When they finally let her breathe, her lips were swollen and her head was spinning.
Kate laughed softly, resting her head on her shoulder. “We are going to spoil you rotten.”
Irina pressed her face into her other shoulder, inhaling her scent. “You are going to get tired of us kissing you constantly.”
Tanya simply pulled closer against her chest, wrapping her arms around her from behind so she was fully surrounded by them.
“Get used to it, my love.” she whispered against her hair. “You belong to all three of us now.”
And for the first time in their long lives, the Denali sisters felt completely, perfectly whole — sharing the same beating heart between them.
It honestly shocks me that Aro never decided to go after the Denali sisters for breaking the law of secrecy. The whole succubus legend was started because of them. That’s not exactly what I could call “being inconspicuous.”
Y'know that cute little hissy-pop noise kittens make when they're trying to be intimidating in a (for them) terrifying situation where death seems inevitable but all they end up doing is the exact opposite of what that false bravado was meant to accomplish, namely-
