⋆·˚ ༘ * ALEC VOLTURI HEADCANONS 𐚁̸.ᐟ
𐙚 alec proposes to you
alec had centuries of silence before you.
centuries of numb routine, of duty and shadows, of watching others fall in love while never truly understanding it.
and then you came along, and suddenly, forever didn’t seem so long.
he doesn’t believe he deserves you at first.
you’re warm in a way he’s never been. you smile like the sun has personally greeted you.
the volturi castle is cold, unfeeling marble, except when you’re there.
your laughter echoes in the halls like sunlight, and even jane, in her sharp-edged way, softens when you’re around.
when he finally accepts that he wants forever with you, it scares him because he’s never wanted anything before.
he spends months watching you quietly. memorizing the way your hands brush over old books, the way you stop to smell flowers even though they hold no scent for you in the castle air, the way you lean against him like he’s a safe place.
the moment he realizes he wants to marry you is small: you’re brushing his hair out of his eyes after a long day, whispering, “you always look so serious, love.” and he thinks, i want to be hers in every way the world will allow.
alec doesn’t want a grand gesture, he wants intimacy.
he wants to give you a memory that only the two of you will ever hold. so he waits until you’re walking together at dusk, far from the volturi’s looming halls, where the sky blushes and the world feels softer.
alec isn’t extravagant.
he is quiet devotion wrapped in eternal stillness, but when it comes to proposing to you, his centuries-old heart can’t help but beat just a little faster. figuratively, of course.
he plans everything with precision.
he practices the words alone in the library. quietly, almost like a prayer. “would you—no. you’re already mine. that’s not… quite it.”
alec carves out a private space just for you in the gardens. far from the guards, from the politics, from aro’s looming presence.
a hidden courtyard where the moonlight pools in silver across the stone, where roses still bloom under your touch. that’s where he’ll do it.
he hides the ring in a worn leather book he noticed you reading once, pride and prejudice, because you laughed when you called him your “mr. darcy with a cloak.”
the ring isn’t overly extravagant. it’s elegant, timeless.
it has a piece of onyx in the center, smooth and dark like his eyes, surrounded by delicate silver vines, like the ones that crawl along the stone walls where you first kissed.
he doesn’t kneel. alec doesn’t need to.
when he holds the ring between his pale fingers and says, “i don’t remember what life was like before you, but i know i never truly lived until you touched me.” it’s more reverent than any tradition.
his voice doesn’t waver, but his crimson eyes are wide like he’s still stunned that someone like you could love someone like him.
you start crying before he even asks.
he looks startled at first, worried he’s done something wrong, but then you’re nodding through the tears and pulling him down into your arms.
when you say yes, alec just exhales a tiny soundless breath, as though your answer has uncoiled some tightly wound part of him.
alec kisses your hand after he slips the ring on. not once, three times.
the base of your finger. your knuckle. and finally, the inside of your wrist, where your pulse beats warm against his lips.
he presses his forehead to yours. “you have given eternity meaning,” he whispers. “and i will spend every moment of it loving you better than the last.”
alec just holds you there like he’s trying to memorize the shape of this moment.
jane watches from a balcony above with the smallest smirk. “about time,” she mutters, before walking away.
that night, you lie in bed together, wrapped in soft sheets and one another.
his head rests against your chest, listening to the rhythm of your heartbeat like it’s a lullaby meant only for him.
he doesn’t stop touching you. fingers brushing your wrist, arm around your waist, knuckles grazing your jaw. he needs the reassurance that this isn’t a dream.
he doesn’t need sleep, but he lets his eyes close because it feels like a dream anyway.
when you start to drift off, he pulls you closer, whispering sweet things against your skin.
“if there is a soul in me, it belongs to you.”
aro insists on a grand celebration and alec barely tolerates it.
you make it worth enduring. especially when you hold his hand the whole time and whisper that he’s yours in front of everyone.
alec isn’t much for wedding planning, but he lets you do whatever you want.
if you want roses down the hall? he’ll find them. want a mortal ceremony? fine. want to elope in the middle of the woods under moonlight? even better.
he doesn’t care who knows. let the whole castle see.
he’ll stand by your side at every formal event with his fingers twined through yours.
if anyone looks twice, alec meets their gaze with that quiet intensity that says, she’s mine. and i would tear the world apart for her.
alone, he carves your initials into the wall behind your shared room. subtle, secret, but eternal. “now the castle knows you belong here. with me.”