What is Stephanie Myers's problem making her background characters more interesting than the mains. How am I supposed to pay attention to the guy who died from the Spanish Influenza when twins who were burned at the stake for witch accusations are there. Or the 1920s queen who killed her rapists one by one. Or the guy whose father was a vampire hunter. Or the
Omg I will be so excited wen part 3 of the only common sense character in Twilight comes out I need more please never stop
OH, COME ON! I'M JUST STATING THE OBVIOUS PT. 3
platonic! the cullens﹠gender neutral reader
LINK TO PART ONE AND PART TWO
authors note: I did it. I FINALLY MANAGED TO MAKE A PART THREE FOR THIS SERIES! As you can see, it's quite long and I apologize beforehand if the fic isn't formatted right. This has taken so much time and with snippets being added at later times, consider it some sort of fucked up collage. Anyways, I had fun writing this and hopefully the next part, which will cover Eclipse, will come out soon! Enjoy!
The first thing you did after leaving Forks was pull out your phone and then casually throw it into the ocean. The silence that followed was beautiful. Then you jumped after it.
Not because you were suicidal. You were a vampire. The fall was more of an inconvenience than anything. No, you jumped because for the first time in months, your mind was free to focus on the truly important questions.
Questions that had plagued you for decades. Questions science refused to answer. For example:
If drinking human blood was essentially the vampire equivalent of a carnivore diet and drinking animal blood made you guys the supernatural equivalent of vegetarians...Then what would a vampire be called if they solely drank the blood of sea creatures?
Pescatarian? Could a vampire even survive exclusively on sea creatures? And if so, would that transformed you into some sort of fucked up mermaid?
These were important questions and you intended to find answers.
Months later, you still hadn't. You did, however, discover several other things. Firstly, Dolphins were evil. You didn't know why humans thought they were cute, but after spending three days around them, you were convinced they were the psychopaths of the ocean. Whales, however, were significantly nicer.
Sharks were surprisingly straightforward. Squid were judgmental and sea turtles had somehow mastered the art of looking disappointed.
It was, honestly, one of the best vacations you'd ever had.
Eventually, however, even paradise got boring. Which was why nearly five months later you found yourself returning to Forks. Not because you missed anyone. That would just be embarrassing. You simply wanted to check on things.
Maybe visit Charlie. Maybe see if Bella had finally used the therapy sessions. Maybe punch Edward if he was around.
Normal things.
However, the moment you stood outside the Swan house, something felt off. You couldn't explain it, but the vibe was just depressing. "...Jesus Christ."
Then you walked inside and immediately wished you hadn't. Because Bella was curled into a ball on the couch. Not reading, not sleeping, not watching television. Just existing. "...What the fuck."
You checked for a pulse. And, hurray, she was still alive. "Bella?" Nothing. "You good?" Nothing. "Blink twice if you've been possessed." Nothing.
Jesus Christ. This some scary shit.
You were about two seconds away from quietly backing out and pretending you never came when a damn bird flew through the open window. It flew overhead for a second before it attempted to take a shit on your shoulder.
"YOU FILTHY LITTLE—"
Bella's head snapped toward you. You froze. The bird wisely fled the scene.
Then Bella stood up. Her eyes looked unhinged, like somebody had removed all the lights and forgotten to put them back. You took a cautious step backward. "Nope." Another stop. "Absolutely not."
And then she launched herself at you.
"What the fu—"
You barely had enough time to brace yourself before she slammed into your chest. Her arms wrapped around you. Tightly, way too tightly. "You're back." Not liking the physical contact, you tried to push her off, but discovered something horrifying. Bella was stronger than she looked. Pushing, shoving, and even an elbow to the ribs didn't grant you sweet release.
You stared at the ceiling.
This was somehow worse than the comatose phase.
After several minutes, in what felt like a hostage negotiation, you finally managed to pry her off. Taking a seat on the couch, Bella immediately filled the spot beside you. Far too close for comfort, mind you. And, more concerningly, she never stopped staring. Not once. You'd seen bears look at food with less intensity.
"....So, where's Charlie?"
"At work."
"Good."
Pause.
"Where is the rest of your family?"
There it was.
You sighed. "Vacation."
"Vacation?"
"Yep."
"Where?"
"No clue."
"When are they coming back?"
"No clue."
"Do they miss me?"
You stared at Bella as the silence stretched to uncomfortable levels "Girl," you pointed at her. "What have you been doing for the last five months?"
Bella shrugged. The gesture irritated you immediately. "Nothing really. I've just been...here."
You looked toward the ceiling, searching for strength, yet found none. "Okay but like..." You gestured wildly. "Anything else?"
Silence.
Your eye twitched. "A hobby?" Nothing. "A friend?" Nothing. "A new crush?" Nothing. You slowly sat up straighter. "...Therapy?"
Bella immediately looked away.
You felt something inside you snap. "ISABELA MARIE SWAN." She visibly flinched. "Oh my God." You stood up. "OH MY GOD."
"It wasn't—"
"I PREPAID AN ENTIRE YEAR."
Bella shrank into the couch. "I know."
"Do you know how expensive that was?"
"I know."
"Do you know how hard it is to find a therapist who won't immediately kick you out the door after hearing vampire-related nonsense? And you didn't go?"
"I was busy."
"Busy doing what?! Auditioning to become furniture?"
Bella looked offended. "I was depressed."
"THAT'S WHAT THE THERAPY WAS FOR!" You began pacing because if you sat down again, you might actually lose your mind. "I left resources. I left support. I left professional help. I LEFT A NOTEBOOK."
Bella quietly mumbled, "I used the notebook."
You stopped pacing, hope flickered in your eyes. "...Really?"
She nodded.
Your shoulders relaxed slightly. "Okay." Maybe there was progress. Maybe things weren't as bad as they looked. "That's good."
Bella hesitated then added, "Most of it was about Edward."
The hope died instantly. You dragged both hands down your face. "Unbelievable."
And somehow, against all reason, you already knew you weren't leaving anytime soon. Because somebody clearly needed adult supervision, and unfortunately, you were the closest thing available.
"Okay," You pointed a finger at her. "First thing tomorrow, we're getting you a hobby."
Bella blinked. "A hobby?"
"Yes."
"What kind?"
You thought about it then shrugged. "At this point, I don't care. Knitting. Karate. Tax fraud. Something."
You had honestly expected her to choose something boring like journaling. You had not, however, expected the universe to hand her Jacob Black. Which, in hindsight, was exactly the sort of thing the universe would do. And honestly? You liked him immediately.
Not in a “oh, I endorse this relationship” way. More in a “compared to Edward, this kid feels like a green flag” way.
Jacob was blunt. He was loud. He had the general energy of a golden retriever that had learned how to be sarcastic. He called Bella on her nonsense, talked to her like a person instead of a fragile glass ornament, and, most importantly, did not spend his nights lurking outside someone's window like a supernatural creeper with abandonment issues.
Which was deeply refreshing.
On your end, you made her eat. You made her shower. You made her change clothes that no longer qualified as clothes and more as crime scene evidence. You made her go outside, even if it was just to stand on the porch and glare at the sky like it had personally offended her. And somehow, through all of it, Jacob had wormed his way into the routine too, offering her rides, bad jokes, and a level of emotional maturity your brother Edward could only hope to have.
And then, because the universe apparently hates peace and you winning in life, Alice came back to ruin everything. You were sitting on Charlie's couch when the front door opened, and there stood your sister with an expression of utter disbelief.
"Alice!"
The amount of happiness that flooded Bella's face was honestly alarming. Before you could blink, Bella had launched herself across the room and wrapped Alice in a hug.
For a moment, you actually pitied your sister. Because damn, that human was strong. Months of hauling motorcycle parts around with Jacob had apparently paid off as Alice staggered backward slightly from the force of impact.
"You're here."
Alice hugged her back automatically, though her expression remained completely bewildered. After a moment, she pulled away just enough to stare at Bella's face.
“Would you like to explain to me how you’re still alive?! I saw a vision of you, jumping off a cliff. I knew I’d be too late but—” Her expression sharpened into pure outrage. “Why the hell would you try to kill yourself?!”
Bella eyes widened. “I didn’t. I was cliff jumping.”
“Why?”
Bella hesitated, then gave the most unconvincing shrug of all time. “Um…fun?”
Alice’s expression twisted in disbelief so complete it was almost impressive. “That was fun for you?”
“Until I hit the water.”
“I have never met anyone more prone to life-threatening idiocy in my life.” Then she wrinkled her nose in disgust. “And what is that hideous wet dog smell?”
“Oh, probably Jacob. He’s a werewolf.”
"Great, you manage to—" Alice abruptly stops, eyes going hazy, which is a clear indicator that she's currently receiving a vision. You straightened on the sofa, but didn't dare approach her, as last time you did, she backhanded you so hard you crashed through Carlisle's antique bookshelf.
She still owed you an apology by the way.
The longer Alice remained still, the more you grew concerned. Concerned in the sense that if this turned into another family crisis, you were going to return to the ocean and stay there indefinitely.
Alice inhaled sharply. Her eyes snapped back into focus, and for the first time since arriving, she looked afraid. "Bella, Edward thinks you're dead."
The next minutes were spent with Alice informing Bella about what her vision entailed, and honestly, you stopped listening at the mention of the Volturi.
No. Just no.
You knew about the Volturi.
Ancient vampires. Ridiculous power. Enough influence to make kings kneel. And one of them, if old stories were to be believed, had the personality of a medieval tax collector.
No thank you.
You valued your life or at least your continued existence. You had no desire to meet the vampire equivalent of Vlad the Impaler and his equally terrifying coworkers.
At some point you must have started dissociating because the next thing you knew the house was eerily quiet. You looked around and realized that your sister and Bella were gone, along with the car previously out front.
“…Huh.”
They left without you. Good. Excellent. Wonderful. You made yourself more comfortable on the couch. Problem solved. Then, the front door slammed open and you barely had time to react before tiny vampire hands grabbed your arm.
“Get up.”
“No.”
Alice pulled. You didn’t move. She pulled harder. You remained firmly planted on the couch. The couch, however, groaned in protest.
“Get up.”
“No way in hell am I going all the way to Italy just because Edward decided he wanted to become a damn drama queen. I already fixed Bella to the best of my abilities. I ain’t no genie.”
Alice stared at you with the same expression she always got when she was seconds away from either winning or committing a crime. “You are coming.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are.”
“No, I’m really, sincerely, deeply not.”
Alice’s jaw tightened. “Y/N.”
You folded your arms and sank deeper into the couch like a stubborn cat with a grudge. “Alice, listen to me very carefully. I have spent months dragging Bella out of a depressive swamp because your brother thought being emotionally devastating was a personality trait. I have done my civic duty. I have fulfilled my obligation to the vampire community. I have contributed. I am done. This is the end of my shift.”
Alice made a noise in the back of her throat that meant she was losing patience, which was honestly rude considering you were the one being inconvenienced.
“Edward thinks she’s dead.” she said, a little more sharply now, as if that was supposed to change your mind.
You deadpanned. “And? That is a he problem.”
“He’s going to Volterra.”
“Sounds like a him-and-the-Italian-police problem.”
Alice’s eyes flashed. “He’s serious.”
You shrugged. “Natural consequences.”
"He's going to kill himself!"
“And whose fault is that? The man has existed for over a century and apparently never learned how to use a damn telephone.”
“He’s grieving!”
“He’s stupid!”
“He’s emotional!”
“He’s Edward!” You threw your hands into the air. "I'm not stopping you or Bella from saving him, although he kinda deserves it, but I'm also not joining."
And you stayed true to your word.
You didn’t go to Italy.
You didn’t stand around in ancient marble hallways while vampires with inferiority complexes made speeches about blood and fate and whatever other miserable nonsense old immortals used to fill the centuries. You didn’t watch Edward and Bella have whatever emotional disaster of a reunion that was bound to happen.
You went back to your rented apartment, kicked your shoes off by the door, and for the first time in what felt like forever, let silence sit with you without demanding anything in return.
It was glorious.
You made tea you didn’t need. Sat on your couch like a king who had survived a coup. Opened a book, read the same sentence four times, and still counted that as a win. There was no Bella crisis. No Edward crisis. No family meeting. No one collapsing emotionally in front of you and expecting you to catch them.
For maybe five whole day, your life was peaceful until there was a knock on your door. Frowning because you rarely had visitors that were not family, you stood up and opened the door.
“…Jasper?”
Your brother smiled in greeting, and before you could stop yourself, you threw your arms around him. “Dude, I missed you. Like—I don’t say this often, but I did.”
Jasper laughed softly, returning the hug. “I missed you too.”
And there it was.
The reason Alice’s emotional blackmail worked every single time. Because if she was your sister, Jasper was your platonic soulmate. Your brother from another mother. The person who understood silence as fluently as conversation.
“Get in here.”
Jasper entered your apartment and stopped. His golden eyes traveled over the space. The ocean maps. The marine biology books. The suspiciously large amount of waterproof equipment, and the whiteboard.
Written across it in large letters was:
DO VAMPIRES BECOME MERMAIDS IF THEY DRINK FISH BLOOD??
Jasper turned to you confused. “…What?”
You immediately lit up. “Oh, I’m so glad you asked.”
Three hours later, Jasper was sat on your couch listening patiently while you explained your adventures beneath the sea. You told him about wrestling sharks. Losing to octopi and discovering that dolphins were evil.
“They’re organized,” you said gravely. “Too organized.”
Jasper nodded solemnly. “I believe you.”
“THANK YOU.”
“Nobody else does?”
“They called me paranoid.”
Jasper frowned. “You are, but dolphins are unsettling.”
You pointed at him dramatically. “Exactly! This is why you’re my favorite.” A pause. “…Don’t tell the others except Edward. He doesn't even make it on the list.”
“I won’t.”
You relaxed then narrowed your eyes. “Wait.” Jasper froze before you pointed accusingly. “You didn’t come all this way just to visit me.”
He looked away.
Bingo.
You gasped dramatically. “YOU HAVE AN AGENDA.”
Jasper looked almost guilty. Which on Jasper meant he looked vaguely uncomfortable. “Carlisle asked me to find you.”
You slumped. “Of course he did.” You buried your face into a pillow. “I’m not coming back.”
Jasper sighed. “I figured you’d say that.”
“Good. Then mission accomplished.”
“It’s important.”
“No.”
“Y/N.”
“No.”
“Bella’s holding a vote.”
You stopped and slowly lowered the pillow. “…What kind of vote?”
Jasper hesitated. “The family’s voting on whether she should become a vampire.”
Silence.
Then sat up straight. “Oh.”
Well, that changed things. Not because you particularly cared about vampire politics. No, but because Edward hated the idea of turning Bella into one of your kind. A grin spread across your face.
Jasper immediately looked concerned. “Why are you smiling like that?”
You stood. Grabbed your jacket and smiled wider. “Jasper.”
“Yes?”
“Take me home.”
SMALL TIME SKIP
The drive back to Forks felt like walking into a storm you’d already survived once, but this time you had your own reasons for being there. Not Edward. Never Edward. If anything, Edward was just a bonus source of irritation.
By the time you reached the house, everyone was present.
Esme, looking worried and gentle. Carlisle, composed but tired. Rosalie, looking like she’d rather bite someone than participate in sentiment. Emmett, looking entertained by the drama of it all. Alice, vibrating with anticipation. Edward, pale and tight-jawed and already looking like he wanted to object to the concept of free will.
And Bella, at the center of it all, looked nervous but determined.
You took your place without ceremony, shoving your hands into your pockets and surveying the room. “Wow, you people really know how to create a joyful atmosphere.”
Alice smiled at you. “You came.”
“Against my better judgment.”
Edward’s eyes narrowed. “I thought you were done with all this.”
“I was,” you said. “but then I got invited to watch your misery in current time."
Rosalie snorted.
Bella glanced at you, some of the tension easing from her shoulders. “You really came back.”
You shrugged. “Jasper guilt tripped me.”
Jasper lifted one shoulder, guilty and unapologetic all at once.
Carlisle began speaking, explaining the vote again, though everyone already knew what it was about. Bella would become one of them, if they agreed, if they trusted her choice, if the family decided this was the right step.
You didn’t say much while the others talked. You mostly watched Edward, because it was hard not to. He looked furious at the idea, even as he kept trying to frame it as concern. He was miserable in that way only Edward could be. Like a man being asked to suffer by the universe and somehow blaming everyone else for the weather.
Bella took a breath.
Then she looked at everyone and, with the kind of steadiness that had become a little more impressive now that she was standing on the edge of becoming immortal, she said what she wanted.
And when eyes turned to you, you already knew what you were going to say.
You didn’t hesitate. “I vote yes.”
Edward stared at you like you’d betrayed some sacred blood oath. “Why?”
You smiled, all teeth. “Because you hate it.”
Emmett barked out a laugh. Alice was grinning. Bella stared at you, a little startled, a little touched. Edward looked deeply, personally wronged.
You folded your arms and kept going, because honestly, this had been building for months.
“She wants it,” you said, glancing at Bella. “And after everything she’s been through because of you, I’m not going to stand here and tell her she has to stay human just because you can’t handle the idea of consequences.”
Edward’s jaw tightened.
“Oh, don’t make that face. You spent months treating Bella like the center of your universe and then acted surprised when that universe exploded. If she wants to stop being fragile, let her. Maybe then she can survive your nonsense.”
You pointed at him.
“And before you start, no, I do not care that this isn’t what you wanted. You got your way every time this family caved for months. My turn.”
Edward muttered something under his breath that definitely was not polite.
You grinned.
Yeah, Bella becoming a vampire was probably a terrible idea in the grand cosmic scheme of things, but it would make Edward miserable. And after everything he’d put this family through, it's what he deserves.
Warnings: body horror, torture, suicidal thoughts, animal death mentioned, psychological abuse, physical abuse, emotional abuse, description of injury, smoking
Fic summary: your reunion with the volturi after your ‘kidnapping’ goes in an unexpected direction
“My sweet dear” Aro greeted as he perched on his marble throne alongside the rest of the volturi, genuine glee filling the eccentric man's face as he and the two other men look down at your figure that had been covered by your family's presence “how we’ve missed you”
You want to scream. You want to cry. You want to burst into a laughter of madness that no other fit could ever outshine. You just wanted to die and rot back into the ground, a fate you would welcome with a bared neck and open chest cavity at this point.
Everyone in the room stares at you in a way that shows they want something from you. The volturi wanted the truth from you, the cullens wanted you to remain quiet and hoped no one would notice the freshly healed over cracks on your skin that hasn't had just the right amount of time to fade completely, and the spectators to your situation just wanted something to satiate their greedy needs of entertainment. And you?, you just wanted to fade into the ground and sink slowly into the depths of your own exhaustion and paranoia.
The process of putting you back together again was pure agony, similar to gluing a porcelain cup back together piece by piece. Carlisle had not stopped at breaking just your hand off, he shattered away every limb below your neck off one by one, leaving you a tortured torso that screamed and begged for an inch of mercy but you weren't granted that.
Carlise was nice enough to do the damage quickly instead of drawing the process out and risking accidentally sabotaging the delicate healing process. It seems the cullens sadism was outshined by their combined saviour complexes as they tried to make the healing process as comfortable for you as possible and took their turns ‘caring’ for you.
They laid you in the softest of beds and used washcloths to dab away the excess of tears that poured from your eyes, bringing you cups of blood with a cute straw to help you drink without the accessibility of your limbs. But laying in the silk sheets and drinking the finest blood did nothing to limit the horror of your situation.
To heal the broken off limbs, the cullens strapped your torso down to the bed before laying the limbs in the original positions and allowing the vampire healing factors to work their unexplainable magic. Your limbs pulled themselves back together in a hellish process, similar to having your skin slowly stitched back together and bones forcibly fused. You screamed the entire time as you watched your porcelain textured skin reattach and you became whole again, the clattering and clicking of the process never able to be drowned out as you felt yourself slowly growing madder than the hatter.
It took three days for the bones to reform, an additional week for you to be able to use them fully again but not long enough for the cracks to fade and certainly never long enough for you to not get a phantom pain when you heard the clanking of porcelain or you see the cracks adorning your limbs.
Carlisle had wanted to let you rest at home longer, but the Volturi were not known for being patient and sent word for you as soon as they had heard their gentle heart had returned to her nest. And they were granted their wish as you stood before them, but this version of you wasn't the one they remembered.
“She’s missed you too, Aro” Carlisle offers after your silence goes on too long, the man can withstand committing violent acts of torture but couldnt handle a slight impoliteness or ongoing awkward silence “She’s just more quiet, after her little situation”
Aro eyed your figure in a suspicious manner, gaze meeting the hints to the cracks on your skin that had been hidden beneath conservative clothing you’d been dressed in, your chest had gone back to being forcibly bound once again. Physically you looked almost identical to the girl he remembered, but the added horror in your eyes was a new touch.
“Lucky for us all, I can see everything i need to know from a simple touch of my sweet girls hand” Aro states in a sweet tone as he comes closer but he only invites you to move further back behind the figures of your family “dear, don’t you want me to know of your journey, so i can make it better?”
You want to believe that the volturi will free you, that aro will free you and bring you to a safe environment away from the cullens where you could fix the irreparable damage they had caused your soul, but that was all just a fantasy. They knew what pain the cullens had done in the past and could do nothing to help you then, why be foolish enough to believe in childish notions of saviours now you had experienced the scorching hot pain of helplessness and disappointment. Instead you choose to cower behind your captors because the hundreds of years with them had made you accustomed to what they are, and you now believed it was safer to stick with the devil you know rather than choose a new path that only prolongs the pain and brings you to the same conclusion.
“She isn’t fond of being touched these days, by anyone other than her family that is” Carlisle answers for you once again, a subtle jab to the Volturi that has you hearing cracking sounds from Caius’s marble throne, a sound that makes you flinch slightly due to the familiarity of the sound “and we’ve discussed that she doesn't wish to relive what happened, it's just too much for the girl to bare”
“Then have her tell us” Caius demands as he stands from his throne and is only stopped by Aro’s raised hand and your further retreat behind the Cullens “what did those rogues do?”
“You are safe now, dear” Marcus reassures from his throne with a concerned expression on his face, you want to scoff at the word safe as you doubt you’ve felt safe since the day you were turned into the monster you are now “you can confide in us”
Your eyes look at them but your figure continues to shrink into itself as the hairs on the back of your neck prickle up at the sense that the Cullens were watching you, dissecting your every move and waiting to pounce once you said the wrong thing or you gave the wrong look.
“Speak, child” Caius demanded out of frustration as he rose from his throne and strided forward to you, his intention wasn't to distress you but to know what had been done to you in your absence “or did the rogues take out your damned tongue?”
You back away at his sudden presence and feel yourself gulping air that your body didn’t need. Caius is taken aback by this reaction, you had not feared him in decades as you were one of the very few he allowed to see him soft, this was not the girl he remembered so fondly, this was a husk of the gentle soul he had once known.
“Enough, Caius” Aro yells as his hand lands on Caius’s shoulder to stop his demanding approach, the Cullens surrounding you hiss at him aggressively “the poor girl is shaking, leave her be”
Guilt is an emotion that Caius wasn’t used to feeling, sometimes he doubts he’s even able to do so. You prove he can when his eyes land on your trembling figure and widened eyes
“Perhaps it's best if the child waits outside in the gardens while we discuss what happened” Marcus offers as he senses the pure unease and the shift in yours and Caius’s dynamic “if the subject is too much for her to recount”
There is a shift in Carlisle’s demeanour, unable to be caught by people other than your family. There is a glint of victory in his eyes as he senses an opening, a way to shift the narrative into what his delusions have convinced him is the truth. He can tell the story without the pesky intrusions such as your opinion or the truth.
“Excellent idea” Carlisle flashes his charming smile once again “Alice, Jasper, go take her to the gardens-”
“No” Aro interrupts, shocking the Cullens as he waves them away “Jane and Alec will escort her, give them a chance to catch up”
“Aro” Carlisle says warningly, his hand holding onto your shoulder tightly “she's fragile, she should be with family-”
“It wasn't a request” Aro says with a tight grin “loosen the leash Carlisle”
Carlisle sighs and lets go of his tight grip on your shoulder, giving you a final warning look that’s only met with your dead eyes and a nod. Jane and Alec are at your side instantly as they guide you out the room, the door closing behind the three of you
“Now, Cullens” Aro speaks as all three of the Volturi kings look at the family with menacing expressions “tell us what happened to our gentle girl”
The Cullen family couldn’t help but feel nervous at the new sense of suspicion that entered in your absence, trapping them in place.
———————————————————————
Jane and Alec try to talk to you once you reach the gardens, Alec mostly carrying the attempts as Jane observes you with her usual cold, stoic expression yet to the trained eye, traces of concern were etched into her gaze.
You didn’t speak much in return, offering mumbled out yes or nos and small hums in response to their words. It was a strange sight for the two, usually your lovely voice would fill the voids of silence the two siblings had between each other but now you were like a songbird who had lost her voice and now sat sadly at the bottom of her golden cage.
“The night is quite lovely out here tonight” Alec commented as he stood beside you on the balcony overlooking the gardens, the moonlight shining down softly but his words were only met with a small nod from you.
“I’m sure there are some birds around here you could control” Jane offers in her usual stoic tone as her eyes search the treelines for any wildlife “an owl perhaps”
“I don’t really do that much anymore” you mumble out quietly, this news taking the two aback slightly due to them knowing how much you loved your gift and how effortlessly you were usually able to connect with the nature around you “Can’t really find a connection”
You choose to leave ot the fact that any animal you choose to find a connection with chooses to die rather than share your bond, birds flying into windows to avoid singing for you and smaller animals starving themselves rather than to sit at your side.
Your response is only met with silence from the siblings as they’re thoughts race at the revelation, eyes darting to take in every little detail of your demeanour, your dead eyes and tense shoulders as if you were expecting pain to be inflicted at any moment.
“Will you tell us what happened to you, dearest friend?” Jane asks as she stands before you, blood red eyes meeting yours in hidden yearning, desperation “confide in us what has been done to you?”
You still at the question, it's hard to answer questions about the supposed nightmare of your absence without admitting its the most freedom you’ve ever experienced in your life and how much you wish you could magic yourself back into that shared motel room with James and Victoria.
“It's not what you think” is all you offer through a hushed whisper as you avoid their intruding gazes
“Well what can we do to fix it” Alec demands as he intrudes on your personal space in order to bring him a glimpse of the girl you were “to fix you”
Alec had certainly picked up on more of Caius’s habits than either of them would admit, both being hot headed when it concerned you and both blunt when looking to find the cure for you.
“Alec” Jane attempts to calm her brother but he’s already passed his emotional threshold, years of being in the high guard had made them both accustomed to getting their own way so your lack of usual sweetness and cooperation seemed to grate on Alec
“We can get you whatever you need to feel better” Alec offers in a slightly desperate manner “blood, animals, revenge, whatever it takes to heal your mind and to soothe you”
“Freedom” is what your mind screams but your mouth does not allow to speak “freedom is the only thing to fix me, and the one thing you cannot give”
“Just speak it and we can make it happen, dearest” Jane tries to encourage as she notices your mouth open and struggle to find the words
“I…I wish to be alone” you struggle to ask but you look at the siblings with those big eyes of yours, and manage to give them a glimpse of who you once were “please?”
The siblings look at each other before Alec sighs and Jane nods her head, both of them leaving you alone without a word, sensing that pushing you further would only cause more hurt and distress.
You're left alone to stare off the balcony, looking down at the bottom and wondering what kind of fall that would be. You closed your eyes as you envisioned yourself climbing over the balcony and dropping to the bottom, would your body crack like a porcelain doll like how carlisle broke your hand off or would it splinter off like wood like when Emmett pushed your hips too hard into the ground. The thought brings James to mind and the pure guilt causes you to let out a sigh.
“The fall wouldn’t kill you” Your eyes flash open at the sound of a man's voice, turning to find a handsome blonde vampire stood beside you with a cigarette between his fingers and a stoic expression “not unless you knocked down one of the lanterns with you, still a risky move that'll probably only end with you missing a limb though”
You wince slightly at his words, your eyes looking down to your cracked skin and sighing.
“Sorry” he apologises in a way that doesn’t sound very genuine, exhaling the smoke from his lit cigarette “too soon?”
You frown at him as your gaze narrows at his mocking words, eyes landing on his hand that cradles his lit cigarette.
“Does that even do anything for you?” you mutter out curiously, a light scoff emitted from your throat
“Not much” he admits with a careless shrug “but i enjoy the smell”
Your nose crinkles slightly in disgust but you offer him a silent nod as he exhales his smoke.
“So, is making suicidal plans the way you spend your time nowadays?” The vampire asks with a raise brow as he leans against the balcony carelessly
“Do we know each other?” you ask with a frown, confused on how he can speak to you so brazenly
“You and I have been scandalously acquainted for some time now” the vampire states cryptically “just never face to face”
You're about to enquire on whatever that means, a blur of red in the corner of your eye captures your attention instead as you turn your head quickly in the hopes of catching a hint of Victoria and instead finding just a red haired volturi member passing by instead, your shoulders slumping at the revelation.
Your mind had constantly run through scenarios of what had happened to Victoria and where she could be now. Though you doubt that wherever she was that she’d want to see you again, the guilt of James death weighing heavy on your heart-
“She doesn't blame you, y’know” the handsome vampire speaks beside you, interrupting your thoughts once again “stupid to think she would be, wasn’t your fault”
“How would you know?” you ask with a light scoff
“Because I watched everything that happened and I see everything that will happen” the vampire speaks cryptically once again but his blunt tone takes you aback “she still looks for you y’know, not that she’ll find you again with those freaks looking after you-”
“Why are you speaking to me like this?” you interrupt with a frown, partly out of frustration and partly out of confusion as someone speaks of the Cullens disrespectfully.
“Because I know a thing or two about living under the thumb of those who have robbed you of what was yours and expect a thank you for it” he scoffs out before taking a drag of his cigarette “I know the dark place your mind is in, been there once or twice myself”
A heavy silence sits between the two of you, the only sound being the owls in the trees
“...how did you escape them?” you ask quietly as you copy his stance of leaning against the balcony “your captors”
“I played the long game, let the treat me like an animal and spit in my face and thanked them for it until I had the chance to commit my revenge” he explains stoically “I waited for the perfect moment”
“Didn’t work out well for me” you remark bitterly but you're only rewarded with a scoff from the vampire “what?”
“You didn’t do it right, you waited for others to join you before you committed to the idea of revenge or freedom outside of dying” the vampire scoffs out “granted you played the long game but you played it so long that you grew too content with the idea that death was the only way out”
“I tried-” you attempt to interrupt but the man turns to you suddenly and looks you in the eyes
“You were weak, you waited on others to save you” the man states bluntly “nobody is coming to save you, either do it yourself or accept the Cullens as your forever home”
Your eyes widen at his words and blunt demeanour and the truth he held, the truth that others had shielded you from and that you’d buried within yourself to avoid facing. He didn't coddle you or sugarcoat his words for you, he spoke to you like you could handle it and treated you almost like an equal.
“I’m not saying it to be mean” he states calmly “but no one ever speaks to you plainly, your not a kid and you can handle the truth”
“What's your name?” you ask suddenly, an act that has the vampires eyes widening in shock
“Alexander Johnson Ward” he answers with a narrowed gaze, he was expecting tears, not personal questions “people call me Johnny”
“Thank you, Johnny” you say genuinely as you look up at him in light curiosity “for the advice”
“No problem” Johnny responds with a slight huff of amusement as he puts his cigarette out “I better get out of here”
“I’ll see you around?” you call after his retreating figure with a curious tone
“Like a shadow” he calls back before leaving you alone on the balcony, your eyes following his absence.
You hear the gentle sounds of an owl in the trees nearby, closing your eyes and summoning it closer. The owl perches on the edge of the balcony in front of you, being able to connect with an animal without it dying for the first time in a while. You stroke the owl gently and listen to its gentle song as your mind tries to form your next plan.
Nobody is going to save you, you need to save yourself this time.
How do y’all like the update you’ve been wanting for nearly two years? 😅
Pairing: Caius Volturi x Reader
Summary: Aro's niece returns after decades of traveling, only to find interest in a certain King she hadn't met yet.
Warnings & Themes: slight age gap but ur vampires so it doesnt rly matter i guess, caius slow burn!!!, sexual tension, aro adding fuel to fire LOL #girlboss, reader basically bugs caius into being her man, caius is kind of mean as usual </3, SEXUAL TENSION X2, eventual brat taming
You were Aro's beloved niece.
Sometimes, you were all the King talked about. Photos you'd sent of places you'd been, people you'd met, people you'd eaten (though Uncle Aro didn't typically encourage reckless behavior, it was quite impressive). Besides, you always cleaned up your messes.
And eventually, you always returned home.
And here you were, after close to 70 years. Pushing the doors to the throne room open, a bright beaming smile on your pointed teeth. You dropped your bags onto the porcelain floor with no shyness, looking straight up at your uncle. You ignored the other two on the thrones, not bothering with introductions. After all, your uncle had never allowed you to formally meet them. Not until you got old enough, of course.. Ironic considering how ancient you truly were.
"Dear Y/n!" Your uncle nearly squealed with delight, erupting off from his throne in flight. When he reached the floor, you pulled him into a tight hug.
Caius Volturi remained on his throne, arching a snowy eyebrow. Hugs. Aro typically despised them. He'd throw someone's head against a wall for even attempting to make contact with his pure velvet cloak.
He studied you while you greeted. You certainly looked the part. Long, black hair cascading down your back. Bright red eyes. A jaw droppingly gorgeous face, made to be a very alluring monster.
Aro held you at arm's length, his crimson eyes sparkling with genuine delight. "Seventy years, and you look more radiant than ever, my dear! The world agrees with you, it seems."
"The world is a fascinating buffet, Uncle," you replied, your voice a melodic hum that echoed pleasantly in the vast chamber. "But even the most exciting buffet grows tiresome. I missed home." Your gaze finally drifted from Aro, sweeping over the other two thrones. Your eyes lingered on Marcus for a moment, acknowledging his eternal, melancholic silence with a slight, respectful nod, before they landed on Caius.
And stayed there.
He was exactly as Aro had described in his letters: severe, pale as a marble statue, with an aura of pure, unadulterated frost. His white hair was like a crown of ice, and his golden eyes held a permanent, simmering irritation. He looked… challenging. And you had never been one to back down from a challenge.
Aro, ever the perceptive showman, saw the flicker of interest in your eyes. A slow, cunning smile spread across his lips. "Ah, but where are my manners! Y/n, you have been away so long, you have not been properly introduced to my dear brothers. You know Marcus, of course." He gestured vaguely. "And this," he said, his tone dripping with theatrical importance, "is Caius. The sharp edge of our justice. The fire to my… intellect."
The same kind of smile snaked across your lips as you analyzed Caius further.
You took a step forward, your movements fluid and utterly un-intimidated by the imposing throne room or its icy king. "Caius," you repeated, your voice tasting the name. "My uncle has written so much about you. Though, I suspect he left out the best parts."
Caius did not move. He simply stared down at you, his expression one of profound boredom laced with a hint of contempt. "Did he," he stated flatly. It wasn't a question.
"Indeed," you continued, undeterred. You circled slightly, your eyes tracing the lines of his throne, his posture, his face. "He mentioned your… fervor for order. Your distaste for chaos. He failed to mention how the light catches your hair. It's like freshly fallen snow."
A faint, almost imperceptible twitch at the corner of Caius's mouth was your only reward. Behind you, Aro made a sound somewhere between a cough and a chuckle, quickly disguising it by clasping his hands together.
"Caius, my brother, do not be so stern! My niece has just returned. She brings fresh perspectives from the outside world," Aro chimed in, the picture of innocence. "Y/n, you must tell us of your travels. Caius is particularly interested in the… disciplinary measures of other covens. Aren't you, brother?"
Caius’s golden eyes narrowed slightly, shooting a silent warning at Aro. "My interests are in effective rule, not tourist anecdotes."
"But discipline can be so… nuanced," you purred, stopping directly before his throne and looking up at him. The height difference was significant, but you held your ground, your stance confident. "In the East, I learned a technique for interrogation that involves a single, precise needle and the slow drip of venom. It’s not about pain, you see. It’s about anticipation. The mind breaks long before the body. I thought it might appeal to your… sensibilities."
For the first time, his gaze shifted from one of pure dismissal to one of analytical consideration. He was, if nothing else, a connoisseur of punishment. He leaned forward ever so slightly, the movement so minimal it would have been missed by a human eye.
"Anticipation is a worthless tool if the subject lacks the imagination to be terrified," he countered, his voice a low growl.
"Then you find a way to inspire their imagination," you countered smoothly, a sly smile playing on your lips. "It's a art form. Perhaps I could demonstrate sometime."
The sexual tension in the air was now as thick as the ancient stone walls. Aro looked like a cat that had gotten not only the cream but the entire dairy. He had thrown a spark into a room full of kindling, and you were happily fanning the flames.
Caius leaned back again, the brief moment of engagement over. He looked away from you, as if you had suddenly become a mildly irritating stain on his vision. "Your travels have made you bold, child. And talkative."
You laughed, a sound like chiming bells that seemed horribly out of place in the grim hall. "I'm centuries old, Caius. Hardly a child. But if you'd prefer I act like one, I can start by pestering you relentlessly until you pay attention to me. I'm told I can be very persistent."
You turned on your heel, your long hair swishing behind you, and picked up your bags. "It's been a delight, truly. Uncle, I'll be in my usual chambers. Caius," you said, throwing a final, challenging look over your shoulder. "I look forward to… boring you with more of my anecdotes soon."
As you swept out of the throne room, leaving a trail of disruptive energy in your wake, Aro floated back to his throne, humming with satisfaction.
Caius finally spoke, his voice cold and hard. "You brought that here on purpose, Aro."
Aro's smile was wide and unapologetic. "My dear brother, the castle has been so dreadfully quiet. I merely thought it needed a bit of life. And who better than my dear, persistent niece to provide it? Do try to play nice."
Caius said nothing, but his knuckles were white where they gripped the arm of his throne. He stared at the spot where you had stood, the ghost of your impertinent smile and the echo of your laugh seared into his mind. It was going to be a very, very long eternity.
It became your new favorite game: finding Caius. He was a creature of rigid habit, and after a week, you had his schedule memorized. Your favorite place to ambush him was the ancient, cavernous library, where he would often review centuries-old decrees.
You found him there, silhouetted against a towering stained-glass window, a scroll in his hands. You didn't speak. Instead, you drifted to a shelf nearby, pretending to browse. You selected a heavy tome on medieval torture methods — a subject you knew he respected — and leaned against the shelves, reading aloud a particularly gruesome passage about the Judas Cradle.
Your voice was low, melodic, giving the horrific description a sensual, rhythmic quality. You let your scent, a unique blend of night-blooming jasmine and cold, ancient stone, waft towards him. You felt the air shift, a subtle tightening that indicated he was listening, despite his perfectly still posture.
After a long moment, he lowered the scroll. "The historical account is inaccurate," he stated, his back still to you. "The angle of descent was steeper. The point, blunter. It was not about slow impalement, but about the explosive rupture of internal organs. The author was a romantic."
You smiled, closing the book. "A pity. I rather liked the slow, theatricality of it. But I defer to your expertise." You took a step closer. "Perhaps you could give me a private lesson on the correct application? I'm a visual learner."
Caius finally turned. His golden eyes were like shards of topaz, cold and hard. "I am not a tutor for bored nieces with too much time on their hands. Go pester your uncle."
He turned back to the window, dismissing you as completely as if you’d vanished. The rejection was absolute, a door slammed in your face. But as you left the library, you didn't feel defeated. You saw the way his fingers had tightened on the parchment, crinkling the edge. He had heard you. He had corrected you. It was a start.
Next, you found him walking the perimeter of the inner courtyard, a nightly patrol he undertook alone. The moon was full, bathing the stone paths in silver. You fell into step beside him, not saying a word for several laps. The only sounds were the soft fall of your feet and the distant chatter of the guard.
"You know," you began, your voice soft against the night, "in my travels, I met a coven in the Amazon. They believed that walking in silence with someone under a full moon created a bond stronger than blood. That their souls would intertwine."
Caius didn't even glance at you. "Superstitious nonsense."
"Perhaps," you conceded. "But it's a beautiful thought, isn't it? That without a single word, you could become tied to another for eternity." You let your hand brush against his cloak as you walked, the faintest whisper of contact.
He stopped dead. The air around him grew frigid. "Your attempts at seduction are as subtle as a thunderclap," he snarled, finally looking at you. His gaze was furious, but in the moonlight, you caught something else, a flicker of raw, primal awareness. "You smell of desperation. I have no interest in bonds, beautiful thoughts, or the childish games of a fledgling who has seen too much of the world and understood too little of it."
You smiled in his face innocently, your eyes peering up at him unbothered.
He turned and strode away, his form disappearing into the shadows of the castle walls. The insult should have stung, but it only made your unbeating heart thrill. Furious was better than bored. He was feeling something. You had gotten under his skin.
Finally, you tried once more.
This was his most sacred space. The map-strewn table, the battle plans, the seat of his power as a military strategist. You entered without knocking, finding him leaning over a map of Northern Europe, his brow furrowed.
"Aro said you might need a fresh perspective on the Balkan situation," you announced, moving to the opposite side of the table.
His head snapped up. "Get out."
"I know the terrain," you continued, ignoring him and pointing to a mountain range. "I spent twenty years there. The local covens don't fight by your rules. They use the humans as shields. They—"
"I said, get out!" he roared, slamming his fist on the table. The stone cracked under the impact. The sound echoed through the room like a gunshot. He was across the table in a blur, his face inches from yours, his features a mask of pure, unadulterated rage. "You think your pretty face and your stories give you the right to invade my space? To speak on matters of strategy? You are a distraction. A nuisance. Aro's indulgence is the only reason you are still breathing in my presence."
You didn't flinch. You held his fiery gaze, your own expression calm. The sheer force of his anger was intoxicating. This was the real Caius, the storm beneath the ice.
"You can yell all you want, Caius," you said, your voice as cold as steel. "But it doesn't change the fact that I'm the only one in this castle who isn't afraid of you."
For a long, charged moment, you stared at each other. You could see the conflict in his eyes, the desire to simply snap your neck warring with something else, something he refused to name. With a sound of utter disgust, he turned and stormed from the room, leaving you alone with the cracked table and the scent of his fury hanging in the air.
It was his strongest resistance yet. You were sure you had lost. In fact, you were ready to switch your attention to something else.
Caius was gorgeous, yes. A prize. Something you had your eyes set on more than anything else.
But there were other men in the world. Not as beautiful or interesting as Caius, but.. Close.
For days, you let him be. You were either exploring the mountains of Italy, hunting human prey, reading the millions of books that your uncle had to offer you, or ordering expensive silks and velvets from the tailor to boost your self esteem (not that you needed it much.)
It was past midnight when a silent presence at your door pulled you from your thoughts. You opened it to find Caius. He wasn't raging. He wasn't cold. He looked… weary. And resolved.
He didn't wait for an invitation. He stepped inside, closing the door behind him with a soft, final click. The room suddenly felt very small.
"I have resisted you," he stated, his voice low and rough, as if the words were being torn from him. "I have insulted you. I have threatened you. I have banished you from my sight."
"You have," you agreed, your heart a still, silent stone in your chest, waiting.
He took a step closer, his golden eyes burning in the dim light. "You are a plague. A persistent, maddening, insufferable plague upon my existence."
You said nothing, simply watching him.
"And yet," he continued, his gaze dropping to your lips for a fraction of a second before meeting your eyes again, "I find my thoughts are of nothing else. Your voice. Your scent. Your infernal impertinence."
He closed the final distance between you. He didn't reach for you, not yet. He simply stood there, allowing you to feel the full force of his presence, his centuries of power, his surrender.
"The bond under the full moon," he murmured, his voice barely a whisper. "A foolish superstition."
"Utter nonsense," you breathed.
His hand came up, his cold fingers gently tracing the line of your jaw. The touch was electric, a shockwave after so much resistance. "Then it seems our souls will have to intertwine the old-fashioned way."
And finally, after weeks of chasing and four brutal rejections, Caius Volturi bent his head and captured your lips with his. It wasn't a gentle kiss. It was a conquest and a surrender all at once, a release of seventy years of tension. It was full of anger, and frustration, and a raw, undeniable need that had finally, irrevocably, caved.
A sound, half-gasp, half-moan, escaped you. The challenge in you, the one that had teased and provoked him, sparked to life one last time. Your hands came up, not to pull him closer, but to push against his chest. It was a futile, reflexive act of defiance.
A low growl rumbled in his chest, a sound of pure, predatory triumph. He captured your wrists in one of his large, cold hands, pinning them easily against the stone wall behind you. The movement was fluid, effortless, a stark reminder of the immense power he’d always held back.
"Did you think your games would end with a gentle caress?" he snarled against your mouth, his breath a frosty whisper. "You begged for a monster, little one. Now you have one."
He used his free hand to fist in your hair, tilting your head back to give him deeper, more brutal access. This wasn't about pleasure; it was about possession. It was about marking you, branding you as his after so long denying the claim. His teeth scraped against your bottom lip, not enough to draw venom, but enough to make your entire body jolt with a sharp, electric thrill.
You being systematically dismantled. Each dominating kiss, each restrictive hold, chipped away at your defiance, melting it into a pool of raw, submissive need. Your struggles ceased, your body going pliant against his. A whimper, genuine and utterly surrendered, vibrated in your throat.
He released your hair, his hand sliding down to grip your hip, his fingers digging into the flesh there with bruising force. He ground the hard ridge of his arousal against you, a blunt, unmistakable promise of what was to come.
"All that impertinence," he murmured, his lips trailing a searing path down your jaw to your throat. "All that clever talk." He nipped at the sensitive skin where your shoulder met your neck, and you arched against him, a silent plea. "Silenced. Finally."
He released your wrists, but you didn't move them. They stayed pinned against the wall by the sheer force of his will. His hands roamed your body now, not with tenderness, but with a frantic, greedy urgency. He tore at the delicate silk of your shift, the fabric rending with a sound that was obscenely loud in the quiet room. The cold air hit your bare skin, followed immediately by the colder touch of his palms, mapping your curves, claiming every inch.
His mouth found yours again, this kiss slower, deeper, more devastatingly intimate. It was no longer just about anger. It was about a hunger so profound it felt like agony. It was the final, irrevocable cave-in, and you were both buried in the avalanche.
When he finally broke the kiss, you were panting, your mind blank of everything but him. His eyes, burning like liquid gold, scanned your face, your lips, your dazed expression, the complete and total submission in your posture.
The ghost of a smirk touched his lips. The brat was tamed.
He leaned forward, until his lips were against your ear. "Now," he whispered, the word a dark, delicious threat. "We begin. And remember, little one," he hummed. "This is what you asked for."
