* 𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖓.

i  𝐚𝐦  the  witch  you  𝖇𝖚𝖗𝖓𝖊𝖉.      ––––      private  jane  of  the  volturi.

[withc-moved]

i hate to say it but i think there’s smth wrong w my account like it’s shadowbanned or smth ... i don’t show up when i like posts n i cant reply to even my own posts it’s bizarro

[notmorbid]

what big teeth, pt. 1.

dialogue prompts from what big teeth by rose szabo.

i've never wanted to eat anybody before.

how did you know i was coming?

i need to talk to you. something happened.

you're a brute with no manners.

you were a little rude.

are you trying to frighten me away?

if anyone comes after you, i'll eat them up.

why didn't you come home sooner?

i feel like i've lost so much time.

i don't feel like it's real.

you ask a lot of questions.

people are so amused by cruelty.

i can't remember what it feels like to belong.

what did you see?

this house is not a safe place. if you're able, you should leave.

i want you to take me on a romantic walk. in the moonlight.

why do you let them treat you this way?

i know you can understand me.

all your work is for nothing.

i don't care what you think of me anymore.

what did you do?

have i satisfied your morbid curiosity?

you know i love you no matter what, right?

i wish i could tell you, but i can't. do you have things like that?

please. believe in me.

do you always give everyone what they want?

you're trying to tell me something. you've been trying to tell me something.

you can't trust anyone here. it would do to remember that.

i've had dreams with you in them.

i wonder why anyone ever has children.

how i am isn't really that interesting.

all families are the same.

as long as you're here, i won't be.

don't say i didn't warn you.

be careful with me, please. i'm not as strong as you.

i'm sorry. i didn't mean to bring up bad memories.

hopefully i can undo that terrible first impression.

your family seems to revel in strangeness.

what have they done to you?

what happened between you?

i'll stay as long as you need me.

oh, please call me ____.

is he your mr. rochester?

not everything is a gothic novel.

[withc-moved]

new layout hehe ..

[gorgonapologist]

[...] Believe me, I searched for the words that would rightly name my rage. There were none.

I did not shout. I did not cry. I did not speak. A tunnel presented itself in my brain and I burrowed into it. I sunk into myself. You know about that? About sinking into yourself? Have you thought about revenge?

Nina MacLaughlin, Wake, Siren

[withc-moved]

jane & alec being nicknamed the cerberus twins in my canon yup! they’re often related to guard dogs and hounds of war, etc. and it’s almost used affectionately, but in practice it actually ends up reinforcing the idea that they lack humanity, which is a strategic move on aro & the rest of the volturi’s part.

[withc-moved]

pyshcic​:

       ❝ 𝐇𝐎𝐖  𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐄𝐋  𝐘𝐎𝐔  𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐓  𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐃  𝐌𝐄  …      I can assure you, it was hardly meant as an offense. In fact, we only hesitated to let you know on account of, well, I had thought, for so trivial a visit, ❞      she spoke without adjusting her gaze, steadfast with her stare aimed towards Jane even as she began to trail off.        ❝ We wouldn’t presume to pull you from more important duties, which I’m sure you’d rather attend to. ❞        The smile is pronounced, certainly, but the implication (near-violent as it is) remains clear:     THEY  ARE,   STILL,  EVER  AT  ENDS  AS  THEY  ALWAYS  HAVE  FOUND  THEMSELVES.    Mind settles itself on Jasper’s actions, for the time being, a comfort in and of itself, and a reminder to play sweetly. He holds no intention more volatile than her own, that of making it out without altercation and simply getting on with their well-anticipated vacation.  His attention, it seems, is on their surroundings. It is concentrated and cautious, and makes no sudden, instinctual decisions  ––  something, perhaps, extended as a courtesy to Alice so as not to alarm her without just cause.

      ❝  We’d been considering the journey to Volterra in a week’s time, or so.  Just as soon as we’d finished taking in the sights here. ❞        A lie, but one she was remarkably adept at telling,  and Jasper at upholding.            ❝ You don’t mean to tell me,  you’ve come all this way to offer an invitation?       So much trouble … ❞

           ❝ 𝕯𝖔𝖓’𝖙 𝖎𝖓𝖘𝖚𝖑𝖙 𝖒𝖊.  There’s little trouble in travel. ❞        She leaves unsaid her opinion on the nature of her task, as delegated to her by Aro himself:   that it feels, to her, little more than an errand.    Something tedious and altogether uninteresting  ––   maybe,  maybe,  with some vague excitement by way of the quiet language the two girls used together.  The fight without bloodshed,  though such a thing ranks so horrifically low among her favorite methods of war...   𝖘𝖙𝖎𝖑𝖑,    it was the closest to be had with the Olympic Coven, darlings as they were. Carlisle’s little family. How she ached to tear them each apart.

            Predator’s smile places itself awkwardly on her demure features, as if her instinct to play hostess had just kicked in. She never takes her gaze off Alice,  Alec never off Jasper. Each are accounted for. Each are held distinctly in the twins’ views, thought of as prey, thought of as mice.  𝖘𝖙𝖎𝖑𝖑,    NICETIES ARE TO BE HAD.     [  𝖘𝖙𝖎𝖑𝖑  :       that  aggravating  word  repeats  and  repeats,   pounding  within  the  walls  of  her  head,   reminding  her  of  those  constraints  which  even  she  must  abide.     𝖘𝖙𝖎𝖑𝖑   𝖘𝖙𝖎𝖑𝖑   𝖘𝖙𝖎𝖑𝖑  . . .      LITTLE  GIRL  WITH  A  FURY  IN  HER  BONES,    THE  WORD  STILL  IS  A  SCRAPING  SORT  OF  PAIN  THAT  DRAGS  ACROSS  THE  BACK  OF  HER  EYES.    still,    smile.     still,   be  quiet.    still,   suffer.     still,   obey. ]       ❝ If you don’t wish to inconvenience us,   I suppose you’ll be happy to join us now.   It would suit us much better than a week’s time. ❞    Here, in an unspoken but coordinated action with Alec, she switches her glare, focusing now on sweet Alice’s scarred mate.     ❝ And, come to think of it, you’d be just in time for Aro’s treat.  The Assumption is upcoming. ❞    A human feast,  one which the Volturi is obligated to respect by way of their agreements with the papacy.  A feast of 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖎𝖗 𝖔𝖜𝖓 is held in preparation of the span of days which they’ll have to remain more fully hidden, and far less obvious of their vicious nature.

[withc-moved]

@wlfsm​     asked :       “ i don’t play nice . ” ok simp

           “  it  would  be  more  wise  for  you  not  to  play  taunting  games.  ”   the  sinister  smile  she  had  sported  previously  leaves  her  in  lieu  of  something  more  grotesque,  sharp  lines  casting  a  gloom  over  her  expression  with  her  sincerity.   were  it  her  choice,   the  political  sensitivity  of  her  master’s  relationship  with  the  olympic  coven  would  play  little  role  in  the  decimation  of  its  allies.   treaty  or  not,   it  did  not  concern  her            –––              she need  only  be  provoked  for  it  to  be  considered  justifiable.   but  the  dedicated  rage  of  aro  kept  her  posture  straight,  and  her  actions  less  volatile.         “  i  don’t  play  at  all.  ”         gaze  scours  the  treeline,    searching  for  the  hint  of  presence  of  the  coven  itself.            “  i  take  it  by  your  crude  defense  she’s  still   ––   breathing,   then.      expected.  ”          a  smirk  made  its  way  to  her  lips  for  a  brief  moment  before  it  settled  into  a  polite  smile.         LET  HER  BE  THAT  FRAGILE  THING  WITH  A  BEATING  HEART  :       I’LL  TEAR  IT  OUT  OF  HER.       i’ll  certainly  have  reason,   then.

[skinhorses]

girlhood & poison & fruit:

1. “Peach pits are poisonous. This is not a mistake. Girlhood is growing fruit around cyanide. It will never be yours for swallowing.” (brenna twohy, from “swallowtail”)

2. “A child weaned on poison considers harm a comfort.” (gillian flynn, from “sharp objects”)

3.

(kenji toma, “ph.”)

4. “I am looking back to when I was a girl; now my body’s a flash of poison on the floor.” (aracelis girmay, from “self-portrait as the snake”)

[lauramakabresku]

Consolation

[mew-sick]

Visit Original Link

“64 Little White Things” - Cake Bake Betty

[withc-moved]

i forgot about this scene in the films im –

[withc-moved]

vampryr‌     ,

death’s   naught  the  home  of  the  joy  ,    but  the  killing  is  .    the  vengeful  nature  of  the  twins  were   the  things  of  mythos  ,   and  yet  they  walked  the  earth  bloodless  and  bloodied  .    thirsty  for  more  .    behind  his  heavy  lids  ,    the  weight  of  the  fire  lifting  his  skin  to  shreds  ,   undoing  his  senses  :    only  then  did  it  make  sense  why  the  witches  sung  when  their  feet  burned  ,   danced  as  their  ropes  fell  away  .    the  devil  licked  their  feet  clean  and  in  came  the  delirium  .   in  death   came  the  greatest   release  .     NOT  FOR  THEM  ,   NO  .     their  burn  outlasted  the  fire  itself   —    ashes  tinting   their  soles  as  their  insides  were  consumed  by  dry  smoke  ,     thirst    &   hell  . 

his  sister’s   quarrelsome  nature  was  kind  ,   really  ,   in  the  way  it  postponed  unbelievable  pain   .   but  it  was  worn  thin  and  she  was  tired  ,   as  he  was  .   hungry  .    it   was   a    trick   of  smoke   and  mirrors  ,   really  .   meaning  :        his  power  spread  like  smoke  ,    &   like  a  mirror  ,   once  you  look  at  it  for  long  enough  ,   your  face  starts   to  take   different  ,   grotesque  shapes     .       their  minds  fell  away  to   their  awareness  ,   fading  out  like  blown  out  candle  flames  as  the soldiermen  did  the  troublesome  work  of  snapping  the  necks  of  those  responsible  for  the  crime   ,    leaving   the  watching  to  them  .     though  his  eyes  had  taken  a  white  tint  to  it  ,   he  still  could  see  the  pain  they  felt  beneath  their  own  sensory  deprivation   —    the  kind  of  intellectual  fear  nothing  can  undo  .     

“      i’ll  light  it  up  .   ”      he   spoke  ,   a   voice  that  was  soft  and  boyish  but  held  the  weight  of  millenia  on  its  shoulders  .     he  picked  up  a  gallon  of  lighter fluid  effortlessly  ,   tipping  the  top  off  with  a  flick  of  his  finger  and  just  letting  it  spill  in  his  wake  .    he  had  a  ballet  dancer’s  gracefulness  to  his  movements  ,   something  of  a  fae  lurking  at  the  quirk  of  his  steps  .     made  a  makeshift  torch  out  of  a  tree’s  branch  and  set  his  trail  ablaze  .   

 were  he  to  have  his  way ,     one  flick  of  his  wrist  would   set  the  world  on  fire  .   a  blink  of  his  eyes  makes  all  sense  return  ,   and  suddenly  there’s   the    stereotypical    screaming  .    a  most  pleasing  unorchestrated  score  .    “    shall  we  ,   sister?    ”

               jane’s smile  was  a  faint  creature  any  time  it  begged  its  appearance;   and  scarcity  of  the  expression  was  an  understatement,   but  the  chance  for  its  arrival  increased  in  such  a  climate.          it  was  now,  only,   with  so  focused  a  stare  on  the  flames  as  they  erupted,  knowing  their  intention  was  not  her  and  her  brother’s  own  skin   ––   it  was  only  now  she  could  appreciate  the  magnificence  of  fire          [   SET  BY  THEIR  RULES,   PLAYING  TO  THEIR  SENTIMENTS.   THIS  WAS  POWER.   ].         and  so  she  gazed,  comfort  in  her  stance,   at  a  small  price  being  paid  by  the  world  which  wronged  them  both.

               “  a  moment,  ”              she  requests,   voice  soft   despite  the  choir  of  torment  playing  throughout  their  surroundings.   with  a  gentle  twist  of  her  hand  and  adjustment  of  her  robes,  she  crouches  to  press  palm  to  the  ground,  pulling  it  back  to  witness  the  indents  of  pebbles  and  twigs,   debris  of  the  natural  world.   coating  her  skin  is  dirt,  a  little  damp  as  it  clings.        THIS  IS  THE  SATISFACTION  OF  UNDEATH :   to  feel.       the  increase  of  intensity  in  the  sensations,   the  heat  which  echoes  through  the  very  ground  as  she  touches  it . . .   she  does  well  to  revel  in  it.    this  phsyical  acknowledgement  of  burning.   this  is  what   brings  that  expression  to  pass.

                     sated,   she  stands  again  and  wipes  her  palm  along  her  robe  before  turning  to  her  brother,  a  curt  nod  for  recognition,  smile  a  shadow  across  her  features.   “  shall  we,    indeed.  ”   with  the  words  she  takes  her  step  to  the  side,   as  if  to  discard  the  scene  behind  her  with  little  care.  with  little  interest.   it  blurs  into  the  past  almost  immediately,  in  so  sudden  a  lack  of  emotion  as  she  suspects  to  have  been  felt  by  those  who  had  discarded  the  pair  of  them  in  so  similar  a  manner.    “  to  feast,    now,   i  think.  ”

[withc-moved]

the history ana n i are plotting out for the twins... the absolute excitement of it all

[kxowledge]

from Grief lessons : four plays by Euripides (tr. Anne Carson)

[withc-moved]

smeyer placing jane and alec’s birth during a time ppl were unchristian to even believe someone could be a witch is ––

[withc-moved]

still can’t receive ims so alshjdf mssg me on @pyshcic if you need me!

[rosources]

—   ask meme   :   RICHARD SIKEN,   THE LONG AND SHORT OF IT.

you have been watched from a distance for some time now and now you are being watched from even farther away.

you’d like to believe it’s true. who wouldn’t?

just because a thing’s invisible doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.

you close your eyes and nothing happens.

let me in, i’m still here, hello hello, you know me, you know…

i could pretend i’m speaking to everyone — assume a middle distance and transcend myself — but i’m talking to you and you know it.

where did you just go?

it doesn’t always matter where we are but here i am and i say hello.

you would like it here. maybe you would like it here. i think that maybe you would like it here.

when i try to guess your trajectory i end up telling my own story.

i love you sideways daily.

i’ve been rereading your story. i think it’s about me in a way that might not be flattering, but that’s okay.

we dream and dream of being seen as we really are and then finally someone looks at us and sees us truly and we fail to measure up.

sometimes you get so close to someone you end up on the other side of them.

so here we are again: me being here and you being off the map.

do you have a human soul and can you prove it?

a robot can do the math. a robot can spit out an answer. people, they make it up as they go along.

i had a tape recorder. i poked and prodded.

i’ve been warned that i’m not supposed to threaten or beg for pieces of someone’s soul.

you said if people wanted to change the world, they would.

too bad for them. i want something else.

you know how i am. i push too hard. i get ahead of myself.

i’m learning how to be gentle.

love, love, go ahead and have another plate of it, it doesn’t run out.

of course, i wonder if you love me back, which is, really, besides the point.

sure, we invent each other. we agreed to that a long time ago.

here is a place for it to happen. a place where i can love you.