#alistair+twilight

[twilightsagasworld]

Paul x Reader

Imagine

Requested by @littlemissvenom0

It disgusted you to a deep degree, and Leah had warned you long before you started dating that Paul was a loose guy, never being able to fully commit to something.

It wasn’t that your relationship even felt real. Paul was incredibly distant and avoided doing anything that put you two in the same space for too long. Like he was some royal who couldn’t even entertain the idea of mingling with poverty.

You were again reminded of this when you and Leah hung out today. The weather was cloudy and the remnants of earlier rain was still around, making everything wet. You and Leah were out in the forest near the river border of the tribal grounds.

“I don’t understand why you just don’t break up with him, (y/n). You guys haven’t even acted like a real couple for months”

You sighed while rolling up your vest sleeves, shifting your position on the damp clump of rocks you two were sat on. Distant laughter was in the background, coming from the Black residence.

Leah’s head turned to you, waiting patiently as you puffed your cheeks before letting the air go.

“Yeah, I know, I know… “ you took a pause, tossing a pebble down to the river below you, “I geuss I just hope he’ll come around before I do decide to break it off”

Leah rolls her eyes, “I can’t believe you’re holding on to some slim piece of hope that he’ll maybe turn into some prince charming or whatever, its not”

You frown slightly, “You obviously don't think I should''. Your cousin gives you an exasperated expression, “All I see is him flirting with every girl within a few feet of him, while you stay back all embarrassed all the time, it's getting frustrating and I keep having to listen to him think about it everyday. You have to do something about it”

You look away, biting the inside of your cheek as you listen to her talk. Truth be told you knew your relationship with Paul could only go one of two ways, either you break up with him, or he miraculously turns from his ways and realises how much he actually loves you, if he even does love you.

“You’re right Leah” you stand up, pulling your cousin up with you. “I think it’s time I have a serious talk with him”. You two make your way to the Black residence in a matter of minutes, just as the rain comes pouring down around you.

You and Leah made it just in time to see Paul getting it on with a brunette you absolutely didn’t think you’d see again. “Isnt that Jessica?!” You hear Leah from a few feet behind you. You couldn’t believe it, Paul knew you didn’t like Jessica at all, she was as pretentious and bratty as they come and seeing Paul make put with her under Billy’s porch roof just triggered something in you.

Your breathing got heavy, a heat like you’ve never felt before started spreading though your veins, Leah’s eyes got wide and she called for Sam who came rushing out of the cabin, Quil and Embry on his tail.

“Hey! (Y/n), calm down!”

Sam was standing a bit back. You couldn’t focus on him right now, steam was pouring off your skin and you winced and yelped as you felt your skin and bones move inside you. Leah rushed away from you just in time as you recklessly shifted into a medium sized salt and pepper toned wolf. You stumbled as you threw yourself off balance and landed disgracefully in the muddy grass. No one moved, Paul had already started making his way down when Embry held him back.

You didn’t wait to see or hear what was going on as you stumbled and ran into the forest, Leah’s hollering voice yelling for you to wait and come back.

•••

“ I thought she didn’t have the wolf gene in her?!”

“ I know, im pretty sure everyone here thought so”

The wolf pack, along with Billy Black all crowded Billy’s small living room. The rain was still going hard and you had left the grounds 10 minutes earlier. Sam and Billy were in a heated talk.

Paul threw his hands up,and pushed himself out of the chair, “I’m going after her-“ Leah grabs Paul’s arm, “No way! You think she wants to look at your ugly face right now? You’re the reason she turned !”

Paul got in Leah’s face, but she wasn’t intimidated, “What did you just say?!”

“Enough!”

Sam’s authoritarian voice broke them apart and a silence filled the room, albeit tense. Billy cleared his throat and spoke to Sam, “I think you should be the one to go look for (y/n), she trusts you, and you’re the only one who could handle another accident”

Paul huffed and stormed out, no one bothered to stop him.

•••

“(Y/n)!”

Sam had been searching the woods for hours, but it was futile, he didn’t think she’d have gone so far from the reservation.

Sam shifted into his wolf form as a last attempt to find her.

He stood still in the dark forest. Listening.

Help

His ears twitched to the front.

Paul

Help

Its so cold

Sam didn’t hesitate now as he ran forward towards the mountains. Wherever (y/n) was, she was in trouble.

It wasn’t long before he reached the base of a mountain, rain falling hard around him and mud splattered through his wet fur. He stuck his nose to the ground as he took a deep sniff, letting the aromas and smell of the forest drift through his senses until he latched onto a sweeter scent, perfume. He followed the scent, leading closer and closer to a rushing river where he finally found her.

(Y/n) was back human now, and unfortunately in the nude as far as Sam could tell. But he acted quickly, coming to his senses as he rushed to (y/n), laying half in the river and on the riverbank. As gently as he possibly could while in his wolf form, Sam pulled her completely put of the river. Her body had turned from a tanned olive to pale and sickly. He brushed past the fact that she was bare and pawed at her to wake her up. Moments later her eyes fluttered open slowly, she looked sluggishly up at him and struggled to push herself up as best she could. Sam laid flat to allow (y/n) to slide herself onto his back.

•••

Leah rushed out of Billy’s house as soon as she heard Sam’s thoughts. The rest of the pack behind her.

They all gathered outside as Sam came jogging through the treeline, still in wolf form. A pale body hung onto him and he came to a still infront of the group. Paul ran forward and scooped (y/n) from Sam’s back, pulling her protectively into his body as he and Leah entered Billy’s place.

Billy motioned for them to take (y/n) into Jacobs old bedroom as he rolled to a linin closet and took out heavy blankets to give to Leah. “Thanks Billy” Leah took the pile and pushed Paul out of the bedroom, he looked offended but didn’t push it and went back into Billy’s living room where only Sam was waiting, now human and dressed in jean shorts.

Billy sighed, “Leave her be for now, go home” Sam nodded and moved to leave, Paul stayed sat, Billy stared pointedly, “You too, Paul”. Paul stayed put, leg twitching, “No way, not until she wakes up, I have to see her open her eyes Billy”. Not wanting to make a scene Billy let Paul be.

•••

(Y/n) didn’t wake up that night, or the next day.

It took a week for her complexion to return.

And when she did wake up, Paul was by her side, tear uncharacteristically streaming down his face as he grabbed her hands and kissed them.

(Y/n) frowned, “Paul?… where am I?”

“You’re at Billy’s place, you were asleep for a week, I thought… “ Pauled rubbed his eyes, “Forget it, how do you feel?” He let go of her hands as she sat up, she popped her back, no longer bare as Leah had gone to fetch clothes for her.

Paul stepped back, guilt covering his face. “Whats that look for Paul?”. (Y/n) sat on the edge of the bed, sluggish and confused.

“Im so so so sorry (y/n)…”

Her eyes went wide. This was a Paul she had never seen before. She kept quiet.

“I screwed up by doing what I did, but it was because I was scared”

“Scared?” She gave him an umimpressed look.

He nodded, “Believe it or not, I thought I could push you away because I was scared of what I was feeling for you, I never expected it to happen with you”

She frowned, standing up slowly and steadily, “What? What didn’t you expect Paul?”

His words froze her in her place.

“I imprinted on you (y/n)”

And apparently that was all it took for her to collapse back on the bed, tears coming to the front.

She struggled to find the words, but Paul seemed to hear what she was thinking.

Paul spent the better half of the night explaining to (y/n) what happened, why it happened and why he did what he did. He got a scorching red hand print on his cheek by the end of it, along with a heavy scolding. But not forgiveness. (Y/n) explained that she couldn’t forgive him right off the bat, although his intentions were understandable, he did wrong by her and to her by what he did with all those women, especially Jessica.

She needed time.

And Paul gave her that, without a word against it.

•••

It took (y/n) 3 months to fully forgive Paul.

Another 4 months to agree on dating.

And all the while Paul was respectful of (y/n)’s wishes and compromises.

Leah gave him an earful telepathically and verbally almost every chance she got.

But by the end of the year, they were happier than they were before. Although their relationship was far from perfect, and they argued still, they were happy. Paul no longer went out of his way to apite her and make her jealous and (y/n) put her foot down alot more.

Leah held a grudge against Paul a bit longer but eventually gave in.

Sam and the pack helped (y/n) integrate into the wolf pack and train her.

For now, all was well.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••

Thank you dear reader.

And thank you to littlemissvenom0 for requesting this.

[welikeimagines-andfandoms]

Cute vampire boyfriend who doesn’t really like or understand humans? Yeh that’s cool

Cute vampire boyfriend who is so disconnected from humans that he almost views you as a strange beautiful magical woman when you simply put a movie on and call for pizza? Wonderful

[charlottesbookclub]

like real people do (alistair x reader) 💜💜

Summary: honestly there's no real plot, just pure fluff. Alistair tries to adjust to having a human mate, and he's trying really hard 🥹

Warnings/Tags: gn!reader, mention of skipping a meal (not intentionally), mentions of eating, Alistair being awkward and a bit rude lol, basically just pure tooth-rotting fluff, but as always, let me know if I've missed anything!

Words: 1,634

Author’s Note: me, writing a twilight fanfic in the year of our lord 2024? it's more likely than you think. uhhh yeah I have no real explanation for this except that I have stumbled back into my Alistair obsession and I just wanted to write a cute little something for him. I don't think this is my best work, but at least it made me smile, so that's something. honestly I have no idea if there's anyone else out here reading fanfic for an incredibly minor twilight character, but if there is, I hope you enjoy whatever this is! I was thinking of making this a little series of Alistair trying his damndest to figure out human stuff, so do let me know if you have any interest in that. but okay I'll stop rambling now - enjoy! 💖

            A message pinged through on your computer, and you looked away from your work for a moment, pulling up the chatbox. It was Lucy from the front desk: 

hey – someone’s here to see you

who?

hard to describe – and i’m having a hard time getting his name

You chuckled softly to yourself, having a sneaking suspicion you knew exactly who it was. Odd that he would willingly put himself in a situation that forced him to speak with other people though. Your laughter turned into a small frown as you considered the fact that something might be wrong. You and Alistair hadn’t been together long, but you knew about his aversion to others well enough to wonder what could bring him into proximity of the possibility of needing to engage in small talk.

be right there

You pushed back from your desk and hurried down to the lobby. Lucy was obviously waiting for you to arrive, and she met you with a mildly panicked look, gesturing with her head toward the tall man standing awkwardly in the corner of the lobby. Thanks to his heightened senses, he had noticed your arrival long before Lucy, and was already striding across the floor toward you at a pace that was just barely slow enough to be considered human. You made a mental note to ask Carlisle to gently review normal human behaviors with him. You just managed to give Lucy a quick thumbs-up to indicate that you knew the tousled man before he bustled the two of you back toward your office.

“Alistair, what the hell?” you asked as he ushered you inside and closed the door behind him.

“What a truly awful system,” he muttered to himself, clearly continuing a rant he was already halfway through rather than answering your question. “I mean really, how many idiots should I have to go through to see my partner?” You just crossed your arms and leaned back against the edge of your desk, a bemused smile starting to fight its way onto your face. You knew it was no use interrupting him until he had gotten everything out. “’Would you like something do drink?’” He parroted Lucy’s question mockingly. “No I bloody well would not – unless you’ve got a few bags of blood stored away back there,” he retorted to this fictional Lucy sarcastically. “Zounds, how hard is it to just point me in the right direction and leave me in peace?” His words faded into muttering and soft curses in a version of English that hadn’t been spoken for hundreds of years.

“Alistair,” you said quietly, breaking him out of his monologue. His talking to himself had seemed strange at first, but the more you learned about his life before meeting you, the more it made sense. He had been his only company for so long and was only now slowly adjusting to speaking with other people again. You, however, found it incredibly endearing and hoped he didn’t break himself of the habit completely. 

His focus snapped to you instantly when he heard your voice, and he started murmuring apologies that you quickly brushed off.

“Alistair, it’s fine,” you assured him, sending him a warm smile and softly placing your hand on his forearm. Touch was another thing that was coming back to him only slowly. You had learned to proceed cautiously, gently, making sure he knew that you were about to touch him before making contact. The words stilled on his lips as his eyes focused in on the place where your warm palm met his cold skin.

“Alistair,” you said quietly after a moment of letting him adjust to the contact. His eyes traveled back up to your face at the sound of his name on your lips. “Is something wrong?”

“I—no,” the words tumbled out awkwardly, and you could almost see him trying to say three different sentences at the same time. If he still had blood under his skin, you were certain he would be blushing. Knowing that eye contact made conversation even more difficult for him, you flicked your eyes down toward your hand still on his arm, gently pulling it from where it hung limply at his side. You cradled his large hand in both of yours and began tracing mindless patterns on his skin, hoping this would give him enough of a reprieve to gather his thoughts. He took a deep breath and tried again. 

“Nothing is seriously wrong, but I— well I… worried about you.” This instantly caught your attention, and you looked up again almost without thinking, only to find his ruby eyes gazing back down at you with a softness you were just beginning to recognize.

“Alistair, I promise, I’m just fine,” you assure him.

“But… well… I noticed you didn’t eat breakfast this morning.” You tilted your head, wondering why that was such a cause for concern that he would willingly subject himself to the horror of checking in at your work.

“I was just running a little late and didn’t have time to make myself anything,” you explained, hoping that would ease his mind, “there’s always snacks in the break room, so I figured I’d have something when I got here.”

“I understand, but humans in your age group are supposed to eat three balanced meals per day, with the addition of one to three snacks. Lack of nutrients can result in many deficiencies, which in turn can lead to side effects like headache, dizziness, and trouble concentrating.”

You couldn’t stop the smile that was growing on your face as you listened to him recite this knowledge as though he had memorized it straight from a Wikipedia article. However, you seriously doubted Alistair’s ability to navigate the internet, since Carlisle had only recently convinced him to try using a flip phone.

“Where did you hear about this?” you asked, trying to remain serious and stifling the giggles that were rising in your throat.

“I’ve been reading Carlisle’s medical texts,” he responded with a furrowed brow, “I want to make sure I understand all the risks and ensure that I am prepared for every eventuality.”

If you hadn’t been completely in love with him yet, this would have undoubtably sealed the deal. He may be awkward and eccentric and even difficult at times, but he was trying so so hard to care for you in the best way he knew how. Although the whole situation was still incredibly amusing, you simply couldn’t bring yourself to laugh at him, even if it was all in affection. Instead, you raised yourself slowly to your tiptoes and planted a soft kiss on his cheek.

“Thank you for thinking of me,” you said as you lowered yourself back onto your heels. Your chaste kiss seemed to have frozen him for a moment, as he stood there completely still, his soft squeeze of your hand the only indicator that he was still present in the room. You let him recalibrate, and as he came back himself, he made a soft exclamation as though he had just remembered something. Reluctantly releasing your hand, he swung a small backpack off his shoulder. 

“I brought you some breakfast,” he explained as he pulled a jumble of containers out of the bag and placed them on your desk, “I tried to make sure I balanced all the proper nutrients to ensure you wouldn’t suffer any adverse effects from not having eaten this morning.”

You busied yourself with looking at all the containers of food to hide the tears that were welling in your eyes. You had never had someone care for you so completely like this before. Unfortunately, your plan didn’t work, since the awkwardly yet earnestly prepared food only brought more tears to your eyes. You had never expected that strangely cut fruit, mangled pancakes, and soggy cereal sitting in its own milk would make you cry with joy, but the amount of thought and care that had clearly gone into each piece of the meal was about to reduce you to ugly sobs.

You could feel Alistair watching you intently as you opened each of the containers, seemingly trying to gauge your response. When he couldn’t bear it any longer, he finally broke the silence. 

“If you don’t like it, I—I’m happy to go out and buy you something. I haven’t had human food in so long and even—even then I didn’t actually prepare it so I tried reading some of Carlisle’s recipe books but I think I still didn’t get it right—” 

“Alistair,” you didn’t normally like to cut him off, but you refused to let his anxious rambling sew any seeds of doubt in his mind. “It’s absolutely perfect – I can’t wait to taste it all!”

Alistair beamed at you then, a rare sight, but a welcome one.

“I just have one question though,” you said, and he looked at you quizzically, waiting for your inquiry. “Can I give you a hug?”

Confusion turned to elation on his face, and he spread his arms in assent and anticipation. You threw yourself on him, wrapping your arms around his neck as you wiped away a few escaped tears. His arms closed around your back hesitantly, like he wasn’t quite sure what to do with them, but his uncertainty seemed to fade as you melted into his grasp, and he wrapped you even more tightly in his embrace. 

Both of you were smiling when you finally pulled away. You settled into your desk chair and motioned to Alistair to pull up another. He sat just close enough that your knees could touch as you surveyed the feast before you. 

“What do you think I should start with?” you asked him.

“Maybe the pancakes? I’m rather proud of those.”

[rose-lily-hale]

@queercharlieswan

[simpfordemetri]

Garret and Alistair sharing their partner (reader)

BEING MATED TO ALISTAIR & GARRETT

⟳ & ♥︎

✧; :🎀: ;✧ ✧; :🎀: ;✧ ✧; :🎀: ;✧ ✧; :🎀: ;✧ ✧; :🎀: ;✧

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Well being mated to this two is really a long travel

You have Alistair ,the quiet and antisocial one ,not much of a speaker but a really good listener ,most of the time you understand what he wants or need just by looking at his eyes .

Then there is Garrett, the complete opposite ,he enjoys talking and is extrovert ,loves making different plans which can be quite dangerous if you are human .

By that ,Alistair has to put you two in place more times that he really wants to ,he is extremely afraid of you hurting yourself by some dumb activitie Garrett proposed .

He is a bit paranoid to be honest and that causes a lot of fights between him and Garrett ,usually you have to get in the middle of them .

Garrett is the one for affection,he loves cuddling ,hugging ,kissing … everything that means touching you ,he also enjoys PDA and is not ashamed of having you sit on his lap in front of everyone

Alistair on the other hand prefers if he is the one deciding when to start affection ,he is not very good receiving nor giving ,sudden affection can make him a bit awkward and reacting a bit like this :🧍🏻

However he will make sure to make you know you are loved by him ,he is the one for gift giving and wordd of affirmation

He usually calls you by your name and Garrett is the one to call you Gorgeous

Sex is either with one of them or the two at the same time but that’s up to you ,however both of them are top

Alistair is vanilla while Garrett is very kinky and wants to try everything if you are comfortable with it

[timetravellingshinigami]

"Oh I love Twilight"

My Twilight:

[twilightishot]

“I can't believe I got myself into this mess. What a fine way to treat your friends.” - Alistair

[daystar-by-jacqui-natla]

17. AN OFFER

VIOLET KHOTLER

THE NIGHT WAS SHAPING UP TO BE A nightmare of epic proportions. The rain was coming down in sheets, a relentless onslaught that pounded against the earth like a petulant child throwing a tantrum. Once upon a time, I would have revelled in the luxury of a good downpour, but those days were long gone. Now, the rain was nothing more than a nuisance, drenching the trees and soaking nature's grass.

The only sound in the room was the steady ticking of the grandfather clock, a metronome that marked the passage of time as we waited in anxious silence. The guards could be here any moment, and the tension in the air was palpable. We all knew what was at stake.

Ingram was sitting beside me, his arm slung protectively around my shoulders. His touch was grounding, his presence the only thing keeping me from spiraling into the abyss of my own thoughts. I leaned into him, drawing strength from the quiet, steady energy he exuded.

"You're too tense," he murmured, his voice low enough that only I could hear.

I turned my head slightly to meet his gaze. His light gold eyes, usually so sharp and calculating, were softer now, filled with concern. "Can you blame me?" I whispered back.

He didn't respond immediately, just tightened his arm around me and pressed a kiss to my temple. The warmth of his lips against my skin was a brief reprieve from the icy dread that had settled in my chest.

Across the room, Gabriel stood by the window, his silhouette sharp against the rain-slicked glass. His posture was rigid, his golden eyes scanning the storm outside as though he could see through the darkness. Helena was beside him, her arms crossed over her chest, her face unreadable.

"They're close," Gabriel said, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade.

I straightened instinctively, my senses sharpening. Ingram's hand slid down to my waist, his grip firm but reassuring.

"How close?" Simon asked, stepping into the room with Alana close behind. His voice was calm, but there was an edge to it, a tension that betrayed the weight of the moment.

Gabriel didn't turn from the window. "Minutes," he replied, his tone grim. "They're not making any effort to mask their approach."

"Of course they aren't," Alana muttered, her golden eyes narrowing. "They want us to feel their presence before they even step inside."

Joseph's voice carried from the doorway, smooth and laced with tension. "Classic Volturi intimidation tactics. They thrive on fear, on making us doubt ourselves before they've even spoken a word."

He stepped into the room, his gaze sweeping over all of us before settling on Gabriel. "They've slowed down slightly. Likely deciding how to stage their entrance. They'll want it to be dramatic."

A low growl rumbled in Gabriel's chest, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. "Let them play their games. It doesn't change the fact that we need to be ready."

Rhona was the last to enter, her movements fluid despite the tension crackling in the air. Her presence was like a blade sliding into its sheath—sharp, purposeful, and undeniably dangerous. Her gold eyes immediately sought out Joseph, and a subtle, unspoken exchange passed between them.

"All the back doors have been locked and secured," Rhona said, her voice calm but laced with steel.

I turned to see Ethan, who had been staring at the active fireplace silently, his golden eyes reflecting the flickering flames. His jaw was set, his usual easy demeanor replaced by something far more serious. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and steady, but there was a sharp edge to it.

"And Leah?"

"She's still in the hidden room with the supplies," Helena replied, her tone firm. "She'll be safe there."

Ethan gave a curt nod, but I could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his fists clenched and unclenched at his sides. He didn't trust the situation—none of us did.

I glanced at Ingram, whose expression mirrored my own unease. We were a family, bound not just by blood or circumstance, but by something deeper, something forged in the crucible of survival. And now, we were about to face the Volturi again — a force that had the power to shatter everything we'd built.

"They're here," Joseph said suddenly, his voice cutting through the room like a whip.

The air seemed to grow heavier, the atmosphere thick with an almost tangible sense of foreboding. Gabriel turned away from the window, his movements slow and deliberate, like a predator preparing to strike.

"Everyone knows their roles," he said, his voice a quiet command. "No one acts without my signal."

The room was silent except for the crackle of the fire and the relentless ticking of the grandfather clock. Each second seemed to stretch into an eternity as we waited, the storm outside a mirror of the chaos brewing within.

I felt Ingram's hand tighten on my waist, his touch grounding me even as my nerves threatened to fray. My gaze flicked to the others—Simon and Alana standing side by side, their expressions grim but resolute; Rhona and Joseph, their sharp gazes locked on the front door; Gabriel, a pillar of unyielding strength at the center of it all.

And then, the knock came.

It wasn't a polite knock, nor was it frantic. It was measured, deliberate, the sound echoing through the house like the tolling of a bell.

Gabriel's gaze swept over us, his golden eyes sharp and commanding. "Remember," he said, his voice low but firm. "We don't provoke them. We listen, we assess, and we respond only if necessary."

No one moved as he strode to the door, his posture regal and unyielding. The room seemed to hold its breath as he reached for the handle, the silence so complete that the sound of the latch turning was almost deafening.

The door swung open, revealing four figures standing on the threshold.

Jane, Alec, Felix, and Demetri.

They were exactly as I'd remembered when the confrontation happened —the embodiment of power and menace. Jane's childlike appearance was a stark contrast to the cruel intelligence in her red eyes. Alec stood at her side, his expression unreadable but no less chilling. Felix loomed behind them, his massive frame radiating brute strength, while Demetri's calculating gaze swept over the room like a predator sizing up its prey.

"Gabriel," Jane said, her voice sweet and venomous all at once. "It's been far too long."

Gabriel didn't respond immediately, his gaze steady as he met hers. "Jane," he said finally, his tone as neutral as the expression on his face. "To what do we owe the honor?"

Jane's smile widened, though it didn't reach her eyes. "Oh, we were in the area," she said lightly, her tone dripping with false innocence. "And we couldn't resist paying a visit to such... distinguished company."

Felix let out a low chuckle, the sound rumbling through the air like distant thunder. "Distinguished. That's one way to put it."

Demetri's gaze lingered on Joseph for a moment before shifting to the rest of us. "You've been busy," he remarked, his tone casual but laced with meaning. "Quite the little family you've built here."

Gabriel didn't rise to the bait, his expression remaining calm and unreadable. "We value our privacy," he said evenly. "Something I'm sure you can appreciate."

Jane's smile didn't waver, but there was a flicker of something darker in her eyes. "Oh, we do. But privacy is such a fragile thing, isn't it?"

And with that, the four guards stepped inside, their eyes scanning the room for any sign of weakness. We were all on edge, waiting for the inevitable confrontation that would determine our fate. The night was far from over, and the worst was yet to come.

As his former acquaintances entered the living room, they were met with a cold reception. Jane and Alec, draped in black long-sleeved cloaks, refused to be ushered by Gabriel. They pulled down their hoods, revealing their contrasting hair - Jane's blonde locks and Alec's dark tresses. Meanwhile, Felix and Demetri, donning dark grey cloaks, had already lowered their hoods.

Demetri's red eyes scanned the room, taking in the surroundings before his nose flared at the unpleasant smell. "Nice place you've got," he commented, his tone laced with sarcasm.

Gabriel was quick to respond, "Spring cleaning. We were in the middle of it."

Jane put on her sweet voice, "Lovely little family you've got, Gabriel."

Felix let out a dark chuckle, "I always thought you were living in a cave. I didn't think you would have a coven after what you did."

Gabriel let out a sigh. "I did used to live in the sewers before this, I confess to that."

Jane tilted her head, her smile sharp and mocking. "A step up, then. Though I imagine your neighbours must miss you."

Gabriel's face remained impassive, but the subtle shift in his posture was a warning. He wasn't one to be toyed with, and Jane knew it. Still, her amusement didn't waver.

I could feel Ingram's hand tense on my waist, his body coiled like a spring. I reached down, placing my hand over his to steady him. This wasn't the time to let emotions take over. Not yet.

Gabriel's chalky face grimaced as he turned his back. He grabbed Mum's hand and looked back at his former acquaintances.

Felix sneered, "Why would you introduce your coven members to us?"

Gabriel's golden eyes flashed, but his expression remained composed, his voice steady. "This isn't just a coven. It's a family. Something I doubt you'd understand."

Jane's smile didn't falter, but the glint in her eyes sharpened. "How sentimental of you, Gabriel. I never took you for the nurturing type."

I felt a growl rising in my throat, but Ingram's hand on my waist tightened, a silent reminder to hold my ground. This wasn't the moment to lose control.

One by one, and reluctantly, Gabriel told them our names but never mentioned our gifts and Leah. It was clear that he was trying to protect us from their prying eyes.

The stillness of the air was palpable, and I couldn't help but notice the guards standing before me. Their obliviousness to my presence was almost comical, and I found myself staring at them in disbelief. For a moment, they didn't utter a single word, and I could feel the anger bubbling up inside me like a volcano ready to erupt.

And all I could think about was Bree.

Bree.

Her name was a whisper in my mind, a ghost that refused to be silenced. I clenched my fists at my sides, nails digging into my palms as I fought to keep my composure. The memory of her haunted me—her wide eyes, her trembling voice, the way the Volturi had snuffed out her life like she was nothing.

I wouldn't let them do it again. Not to us.

Jane's gaze flicked toward me, her crimson eyes narrowing slightly, and for a terrifying moment, I thought she'd caught the flicker of rage in my expression. But she only smiled, that sickly sweet smile that made my stomach churn.

"And you," she said, her voice syrupy as she tilted her head, studying me like a scientist might study a bug under a microscope. "You must be Violet. Aro told us about you."

Of course he did. We did had a brief conversation at the Cullens' trial considering Renesmee. He did look at me like he was seeing a ghost. I learnt that, from Amun, Stefan and Vladimir, that Aro had a sister named Didyme — a sister who had died long ago, but whose name lingered like a shadow in the Volturi's history. No one knew how she died, but Amun claimed that I looked like her.

But something tells me that they had never met Didyme at all before she died.

I tried to steady my breath, but the memory of Bree, of the way the Volturi had extinguished her life so carelessly, surged through me. The rage that had been simmering beneath the surface threatened to boil over. I clenched my fists harder, my nails digging into my palms, fighting to keep control.

Ingram's hand on my waist tightened, a silent anchor, reminding me that I wasn't alone in this. But even his presence couldn't fully quell the storm inside me.

Jane's smile didn't waver, her red eyes still fixed on me with that unnerving, calculating intensity. "I'm curious," she continued, her voice a sickly sweet lilt. "What is it that makes you so special, Violet? Aro seemed... intrigued by you."

The room felt colder, the weight of her question hanging like a guillotine ready to fall. I knew what she was after—information. The Volturi were always searching for weaknesses, for anything they could use against us. I had to be careful. I couldn't give her the satisfaction of seeing me unravel.

I met her gaze with as much composure as I could muster, my voice steady despite the storm inside me. "I'm not special, Jane. I'm just another vampire trying to survive in a world that's constantly changing."

Her smile faltered for a fraction of a second, but it was enough for me to see the flicker of doubt in her eyes. She was trying to figure me out, trying to understand why Aro had taken such an interest in me. But I wasn't about to give her the answers she wanted.

Felix's eyes narrowed as he studied me, a slow, predatory smile spreading across his face. The intensity of his gaze felt like a weight pressing down on me, his size and strength more than enough to intimidate anyone. I could feel the tension radiating from him, like a storm building just beneath the surface.

"Ah, so this is the one Aro's so interested in," he said, his voice deep and rumbling. "And dare I say, you are beautiful for an immortal."

Ingram tensed beside me, his arm tightening around my waist, but I didn't flinch. I refused to let Felix see how much his words rattled me. The Volturi were masters at psychological warfare, and if I showed even a hint of weakness, they would exploit it.

I met Felix's gaze squarely, forcing my voice to remain calm despite the simmering fury inside me. "I'm not here for your approval, Felix. Nor do I care what Aro thinks."

His smile only widened, amusement dancing in his red eyes. "Oh, I'm sure you don't. But you should know, Aro's interest is never without reason. And I'm sure he'll be very pleased to hear how... charming you are."

I could hear Ingram's growl behind me. "She's already taken," he said, his voice low and firm, the threat in his tone unmistakable.

Felix's grin faltered for a split second, but he quickly recovered, chuckling darkly. "Such a protective one, aren't we?" His eyes flicked toward Ingram, sizing him up. "You must be the one to keep her in check, then."

I could feel the tension rising between us, the air thick with unspoken threats. Ingram's grip on me tightened, but I didn't need his protection—not in the way Felix thought. I wasn't some fragile thing to be guarded. I could hold my own.

"Enough," Gabriel said, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. He stepped forward, his posture commanding. "We're not here to entertain you, Felix. If you've come to discuss business, then let's get to it."

Jane's smile never wavered, but there was a glint of something darker in her eyes. "Business, Gabriel? This isn't about business. We want you to help us."

Gabriel's gaze hardened, his golden eyes narrowing as he assessed the situation. "Help you?" he repeated, his voice low and controlled, though the weight of the words hung heavy in the air. "I don't think I owe you anything, Jane."

Jane's smile turned colder, her expression never faltering. "Oh, Gabriel, I think you misunderstand," she purred, her voice dripping with venom. "This isn't about owing us. It's about survival. Yours and your little family's."

Alec remained silent, his eyes sharp and calculating as he watched us, but his presence was no less intimidating. Felix, on the other hand, looked as though he were savoring the tension, his predatory grin widening with every passing second.

Demetri's gaze shifted to Joseph, his red eyes narrowing with a quiet intensity. "Oh, I should just..." he was checking his hand. "Hm, what does these humans say all the time? Oh, yes—" he rose his head to face us. "Go straight to the point."

"And what might the point be?"

"To help us, Gabriel," Jane said, her voice soft but urgent. "We need you and your coven to do something for us."

Gabriel waited, his own arms folded, his gaze fixed on Jane. "Go on," he said, his voice steady. "Tell me what you need."

"We've been searching for a vampire named Joham," Alec continued, frustration etched on his face.

Gabriel's eyes flickered with interest, though his expression remained guarded. "Joham?" he asked, his voice cool. "What makes you think we can help you find him?"

Jane's smile was tight, her patience clearly wearing thin. "Joham is a rogue vampire," she explained, her voice dripping with disdain. "He's been causing... problems. His experiments have gone too far, and now we need him neutralized before he becomes a real threat."

Felix let out a low, menacing chuckle. "He's been playing with fire, and now it's time to burn him down."

Gabriel remained silent for a moment, his golden eyes flicking to each of us in turn. I could feel the weight of the decision hanging in the air, the tension building as we waited for his response.

"You want me to hunt down a rogue," Gabriel said, his tone flat, "and eliminate him. Just like that?"

Jane smiled. "Just like that."

The memory of the confrontation flooded my mind, like a wave crashing onto the shore. Alice and Jasper had been the ones to bring Nahuel and his aunt forward, revealing the dark deeds of his father. But as they spoke, I couldn't help but feel a sense of detachment. This had nothing to do with us, or Gabriel for that moment.

I clenched my fists, willing myself to remain seated and composed. My mask firmly in place, I asked the question that had been gnawing at me. "Why do you want us to do it?"

Demetri's voice rose, yet remained composed as he gestured out of the window. "Because you're not on anyone's radar," he said, his tone matter-of-fact. "You're off the grid, Gabriel. Your little family operates in the shadows, unseen and unnoticed. That makes you perfect for this task."

Gabriel's expression darkened, his golden eyes narrowing. "So, you want us to do your dirty work while you sit back and watch from your ivory tower?"

Jane's smile returned, sharp and cold. "It's not dirty work. It's justice. Joham's actions threaten the balance we've worked so hard to maintain. Surely you understand the importance of order."

Gabriel let out a bitter laugh, his voice laced with sarcasm. "Order? Is that what you call it? The Volturi's version of order has always been about control, not balance."

Felix took a menacing step forward, his towering frame casting a shadow over the room. "Careful, Gabriel," he growled. "You wouldn't want to test our patience."

Ingram shifted beside me, his muscles taut as a coiled spring. I could feel the barely contained fury radiating from him, but I placed a hand on his arm, silently urging him to stay calm. This wasn't the time for a fight—not yet.

"You've faced tougher challenges than this, yet you're struggling to handle it!" I said, my voice tinged with brief anger.

Gabriel quickly hushed me, sensing the tension in the room. Felix, on the other hand, released a low growl, attempting to intimidate me. But I refused to back down.

Ingram stepped forward slightly, placing himself between me and Felix, his golden eyes blazing with defiance. "She's right," he said, his voice steady but filled with restrained fury. "If Joham is such a problem, why haven't you handled him yourselves? Or are you afraid he might be more than you can handle?"

Felix's growl deepened, but Jane raised a hand, silencing him. Her crimson eyes flicked between Ingram and me, her expression unreadable. "Such boldness," she said, her tone almost amused. "But I suggest you tread carefully. You're speaking to the law itself."

Gabriel's voice cut through the tension, calm but commanding. "Enough," he said, stepping forward to place himself at the forefront once again. "If you want our help, you'll need to be honest with us. Why is Joham such a threat that even the mighty Volturi can't deal with him alone?"

Jane hesitated for the briefest moment, a flicker of something—uncertainty, perhaps—crossing her face. Then she spoke, her tone measured. "Joham has created something... unnatural. A hybrid army. And he's no longer content to keep them hidden. If he succeeds in his plans, it could expose our kind to the human world in ways we cannot control."

Alec added, his voice low and tense, "He's gone rogue, even by our standards. He's unpredictable, and his hybrids are dangerous. We can't afford to risk an all-out war with him—or worse, human discovery."

The room fell silent as the weight of their words sank in. Gabriel's expression was unreadable, but I could see the wheels turning in his mind, calculating the risks and weighing our options.

"You expect us to put our lives on the line for this?" Rhona asked, her voice sharp. "To clean up your mess?"

Demetri's gaze snapped to her, his tone cold and clipped. "It's not just our mess. If Joham succeeds, it will affect all of us. Your family won't be safe either."

Gabriel held up a hand, silencing both sides. "We need time to consider this," he said firmly. "This isn't a decision we can make lightly."

Jane's smile returned, though it was more of a smirk this time. "Of course," she said sweetly. "Take all the time you need. But remember, Gabriel, the clock is ticking. And so is our patience."

With that, the Volturi guards turned and began to make their way toward the door. But before they left, Jane glanced back at me, her crimson eyes gleaming with dark amusement. "Oh, and Violet," she said, her voice like silk. "Aro sends his regards."

The door closed behind them, leaving the room in heavy silence. The tension lingered like a storm cloud, and I could feel the weight of their visit pressing down on all of us.

Gabriel turned to face us, his golden eyes scanning the room. "We need to talk," he said, his voice quiet but firm. "Now."

Joseph attempted to lighten the mood. "Well, that could have gone worse."

"Go and get Leah," Gabriel ordered, his voice thick with emotion.

"Finally!" Ethan shouted and we all looked at him; his composure changed. "I mean, on it."

He followed Helena to the fireplace and the fire immediately died out.

The room remained heavy with the tension left in the Volturi's wake. Gabriel's golden eyes swept over each of us, his usually calm demeanor strained. I could feel the weight of the decision hanging over him, the burden of protecting his family clashing with the danger of entangling us in the Volturi's schemes.

Ethan disappeared with Helena, leaving the rest of us in the suffocating silence. Ingram's hand still rested protectively on my waist, but his fingers twitched slightly—a sign of his barely contained anger. I reached up and placed my hand over his, grounding him as much as myself.

Gabriel finally broke the silence, his voice low and measured. "This isn't just about Joham," he said, pacing the room. "It never is with the Volturi. They always have another angle."

Rhona crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing. "So, what do we do? Play along? Or fight them off when they come back?"

Joseph leaned casually against the wall, though his lighthearted attempt at humor had faded. "Fighting them isn't exactly an option, Rhona. Not unless we've got a death wish."

I couldn't help but speak up, my voice sharper than I intended. "They're afraid of him. Joham. That's why they're here. They don't want to risk their own necks."

Gabriel stopped pacing, his eyes locking on mine. "Exactly," he said, his tone grim. "Which makes this even more dangerous. If Joham has created a hybrid army and the Volturi are too cautious to face him directly, it means he's a threat unlike anything we've dealt with before."

Simon stepped forward, his voice tight with frustration. "And they want us to deal with it? What happens when we're the ones caught in the crossfire? Or worse—when they decide we're a liability?"

Gabriel sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "That's why we need to be careful. We can't let them manipulate us into doing their dirty work without understanding the full picture."

The sound of footsteps echoed from the hallway as Ethan and Helena returned, Leah trailing behind them. Her deep brown eyes scanned the room, taking in the tension with a single glance.

"Well," she said, her voice dry. "Looks like I missed quite the show."

Gabriel turned to Leah, his expression a mixture of relief and urgency. "Well, the good news is that they didn't arrive for you."

Leah raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. "And the bad news?"

"Joham," Gabriel replied, his voice heavy. "They want us to hunt him down. Apparently, he's been creating hybrids—an army of them. They claim he's a threat to all of us."

Leah's jaw tightened, her sharp features hardening. "And they expect us to clean up their mess?"

"Exactly," Rhona muttered, her tone laced with bitterness. "Because we're so expendable in their eyes."

"And none of you find this weird?"

"What do you think mean?" Alana asked, looking at her.

"Well, Violet's tapes about her mother's past, connected to Joham," Leah explained. "The tapes goes missing and not mention the Volturi is suddenly at our doorstep, asking us to deal with Joham. Seems like more than just coincidence to me."

The room fell silent as Leah's words sank in. She was right—there was a connection here, something deeper than what the Volturi had revealed. My stomach churned at the thought of those tapes, the secrets they held about my mother's past and how they might be tied to Joham's twisted experiments.

Gabriel's expression darkened, his golden eyes flickering with a mix of anger and concern. "You think the Volturi took the tapes?" he asked, his voice low.

Leah shrugged, her gaze unwavering. "It's possible. Or maybe Joham did. Either way, someone doesn't want us knowing the full story."

Ingram's hand tightened on my waist, his voice a low growl. "If they think they can manipulate us like this, they're in for a rude awakening."

Joseph sighed, running a hand through his hair. "This just keeps getting better and better. So, what's the plan? We can't just sit here and wait for them to make the next move."

Gabriel nodded, his posture tense but resolute. Helena's delicate fingers traced patterns on his forearm, a gesture of love and concern.

"Are you okay, sweetheart?" she whispered, her voice soft and soothing.

His response was equally tender, his eyes meeting hers with a depth of feeling that spoke volumes. "Yes, love," he murmured, his voice filled with gratitude and affection.

But as I watched this intimate moment unfold, I couldn't help but feel a sense of irony. After all, Gabriel had been hiding from the Volturi for centuries, and now, here we were, thrust into their crosshairs, their demands threatening to unravel everything he had worked so hard to protect. His love for Helena, his family, his coven—it was all on the line.

He gently caressed her hands, feeling her skin against his own. His forehead rested against hers, a gesture of comfort and reassurance. The man before me was clearly frightened, his eyes darting around the room as if searching for an escape.

Alana, unable to bear the tension any longer, strode over to the table and picked up the TV remote. She clicked it on, the sound of the news filling the room. It was a welcome distraction from their troubles, if only for a little while.

Leah looked at Alana with a quizzical expression, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Alana, what are you doing?" she asked, her voice laced with curiosity.

Alana's fingers danced over the remote control as she pressed the button to switch on the TV. "I'm checking the weather," she replied, her eyes fixed on the screen.

Leah's confusion deepened. "The weather? Why do we need to check the weather?"

Alana turned to face her friend, a serious expression etched on her face. "Because if it's sunny, we need to make plans. We can't waste on times like this."

The TV flickered to life, and Alana quickly tuned into the BBC news channel. A woman with piercing blue eyes and short dark hair sat behind a large desk, her green-sleeved top hugging her curves. The BBC logo glowed in the corner of the screen, as the news ticker scrolled from right to left.

Suddenly, the news anchor's voice cut through the silence. "Another woman has been found dead in the alleyway at Bengal Court this morning," she announced, her tone grave. "The woman was identified as Nancy Clarke, a twenty-two-year-old student. She is the seventh victim of the notorious serial killer, Dark Angel."

Leah's eyes widened in horror as she listened to the news. "Oh hell," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "This is getting out of hand."

The name 'Dark Angel' had a certain allure to it, one that could easily capture the attention of anyone who heard it. The latest victim, Nancy Clarke, was the unfortunate seventh to fall prey to this mysterious entity. I couldn't help but wonder if there was a connection to Joham, or perhaps even something more sinister at play. Could it be a vampire who had carelessly left the body behind? If so, they had done a terrible job of disposing of it.

Joseph spoke up, "This seems like a promising lead to investigate."

"I couldn't agree more," Gabriel replied.

Leah let out a groan, "Can I at least get some rest? You guys don't need sleep, but I sure as hell do."

"Of course, take all the time you need," Ethan reassured her.

"We'll reconvene in a few hours," Gabriel declared, and we all nodded in agreement. The hunt for the Dark Angel had only just begun.

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

Do you think Alistar and Garret would like each other?

I feel they would be a nice friendship.

I don't recall in canon what they thought of each other, but I think it was very little/not much. Garrett was mostly hanging out with Kate and making the moves on his new lady love. Alistair was busy being terrified of the whole ordeal and then booked it when he saw Bella making plans for her daughter that made it seem like she thought they were all doomed to die without telling anyone.

Given all of that I...

Have to disagree and do not think it would be a nice friendship. Garrett either is flat out not interested or else contemptuous of a man who fled for the hills at the first sign of danger instead of sticking it to the man (remember, Garrett took the opportunity to give a rousing speech no one asked for in the middle of the confrontation). Alistair, for his own part, would think Garrett's trying to get them all killed.

[twilightsagasworld]

(The man ) Garrett x Reader

(Requested by @twilightlover2007 )

Part 1

“Single file line, please! The ground is still very wet and slippery”, the bustling of very small toddlers and a single teacher trying to keep them all together was a sight to see at the Forks Museum. (y/n), a young pre-k teacher had finally gotten to take her small class of 10 children to the museum after weeks of waiting for parental approval forms to be brought back. It was the middle of winter and living in Forks meant that there wasn’t alot for a pre-k teacher to come up with to entertain the little ones. The museum was the cheapest option, and guaranteed that the small children would be entertained by the many artifacts and attractions that surrounded them. An aquarium would have been a much better bet, but the nearest one was out of state and very expensive. 

The small group of teacher and students were on their way to the minivan bus that (y/n) had organised when a small hand tugged at her winter jacket, “Miss Johnson I have to make a sissy!”, (y/n) knelt down to the boy’s height, “Okay Troy, but let me make sure everyone is buckled in first and that the nice security man can look after them”.

After that was all organised and the museum security agreed to watch them, (y/n) grabbed small Troy’s hand and guided him to the bathrooms inside the museum. They didn’t take long before exiting the girls restroom that (y/n) noticed the boys untied shoelaces, “Oh, just a second dear, let miss Johnson help you tie your laces…”  

It was a small gust of wind she noticed first, a glance to her left told her that the doors and windows were shut, leaving no room for cold air to pass. She stood up, “Miss Johnson, my-” “Hush”, her tone left no room for a word, she stepped in front of the boy and felt his small hands cling to her leg. She took a steady look around them, they were in a darker part of the building, and the light above them was flickering randomly. Another gust of wind past them, this time with enough force to blow her hair in her face and make the small child yelp. 

“Who’s there?” her voice seemed so quiet all of a sudden, almost out of pure instinct as if to hide where she was. She took a look back down to the boy but was met with bright red eyes the second she looked back, “Hey!” she yelped, taking a big and clumsy step back, careful of the child clung to her. The scruffy-looking man in front of her gave her a wry smile, “My my,  aren’t you a pretty thing?”, she scowled. He stepped forward, dark bags under his eyes making their strange colour stand out so much more, “Stay- stay right there…” The man took a step closer, “But you smell so good… Its been driving me crazy for days!” he made a dramatic gesture. (y/n) was so so frightened, frozen in a state of shock she could barely feel the shaking hands around her leg, but the boy’s crying snapped her out of it, and like a mother hen she snapped around and took the boy into her arms, holding onto him for dear life. The man stopped in his tracks, staring alarmedly at the crying child in her arms, (y/n) took her chances, not knowing if they were slim, “Please… don’t hurt us” she pled through her own tears now, her body seemed to be going haywire since this man showed himself like all her senses were telling her she was the prey and this red-eyed man was the predator.

The man said nothing, trying to reclaim his facade, he grumbled and sighed, his eyes darting between her and the child. He waved them off, and without thinking she ran, ran until she was at her van and told the security what happened, all the same trying to comfort a child in distress as the authorities arrived ten minutes later. Parents were called too, and most showed up not too long after the police, led by Charlie Swan. (y/n) was in such a state when she told them what she explained to the security, a tall, rough-looking man with red eyes had shown up out of nowhere and tried intimidating her and most likely worse. Chief Swan had the museum swept through and found no trace of such a man. “Go home, get some rest and tomorrow you come down to the station and we’ll take it from there, aight?” With nothing else she could of done, she drove the rest of the children back to the school and with the school already knowing what was up, she left them in the care of another teacher as she was sent home at just past noon.

(Y/n) locked all her doors and windows and distracted herself with a scalding shower. With no desire to eat or do anything else, and stressed beyond measure, (y/n) put on her cd player in the living room of her small one-story house and ploughed herself down on her coach, heavy blankets following.

She didnt sleep well that night, red eyes filling the dark corners of her living room…

[obireads]

The Hawk and the Hare

An introduction to the first chapter of The Hawk and the Hare, an Alistair x OC slow burn.

Early morning fog settles over the rocky fields of the North Yorkshire Moors, passing through low shrubs of heather, leaving dew droplets in its wake. Taking advantage of the low visibility, a brown hare hops tentatively from shrub to shrub, not quite willing to risk being so careless despite being hidden from predators. A velvet nose twitches, snuffling across the wet grass, as beady yellow eyes dart up every so often to keep watch for birds of prey that would tear him apart. Ripping fresh roots from the near frozen earth, he feasts before the mist has a chance to dissipate with the rising sun. He finds a spot with particularly lush grass and juicy weeds and begins to have his fill. With his front paws, he digs, claws breaking through the hard ground before snuffling through the wet dirt in search of his meal.

Sensitive feet pick up the rumbling before his ears do, and he manages to dart out of the way of danger with milliseconds to spare as a pale hand breaks through the earth where he once stood, the hare does what he knows best, and he bounds through long grass taking twists and turns to flee the new danger he wasn’t expecting.

The dirtied hand claws at the ground, pulling apart the soil with too much ease. Rocks tumble down the sloped hill as the danger unearths himself, peaty soil caked in his blonde tresses. Wild, black eyes squint to avoid the harsh dawn and he lifts a blackened hand to shield them from the orange light he hadn’t been exposed to in nearly two decades. He takes an unnecessary deep breath, the icy winter air hurts his nostrils initially, but as famished as he was, he could immediately detect human blood in a north-eastern direction, around twelve miles out. As he had done for eighteen years though, Alistair was content to ignore his burning thirst for a little while longer and instead took a moment to get used to the light he was cut off from for such a long time. The fire in his throat was a dull ache he often learned to live with, ashamed of what he was and willing to let himself suffer for it.

The Moors hadn’t changed all too much over the centuries he had been wandering the earth, which was the very reason he chose to bury himself twenty feet beneath them , so that he could wallow relatively undisturbed for as long as he could manage in the comforting embrace of mother earth. His thirst he could deal with, as a being as old as himself had mastered patience and suffering. Despite his gaunt cheeks and the no doubt purple bags under his obsidian eyes, the burning in his throat was not at the top of his list of grievances.

Alistair’s pesky little talent had been irritating him for a short while now, give or take twenty years, leading him astray from what he had been looking for before he elected to bury himself and ignore it—as he usually does with things he does not take joy from. It pulled his insides apart the further he fled from it, and it wrung his guts in its fists the more he dwelled on it. It begged for him to follow it, as it always did, but with this it was difficult to ignore and that scared him. He did not know what—or who—waited for him at the end of this twisting knife in his belly, but whatever it was it was new. New was bad. Unknown. Foreign. Dangerous.

For the first few years with the worms, the pull was easy to ignore. He could preoccupy his mind with silly nothings in a language long forgotten. When it got even worse, he elected to simply think of absolutely nothing, laying frozen in time in an almost sleep—not quite aware of anything and yet attune to everything around him. Even when his thirst was at the back of his mind, the pull persisted. It would rear its ugly head at the worst moments.

Finally, enough was enough. He did not know what awaited him, but he was deathly sick of feeling torn in two like this. Whatever it was, he would find it and destroy it.

----

As always, taking headcanon requests and feedback.

[welikeimagines-andfandoms]

I love a good ‘huddle for warmth’ fic but with it being as hot as it is, I wouldn’t mind some vampires keeping me nice and cool 😏😏

[charlottesbookclub]

it's been a long, long time (alistair x reader) 💜💜

Summary: listening to oldies and slow dancing with alistair. that's it that's the plot 💕

Warnings/Tags: gn!reader; exists in the same timeline/universe as "like real people do" but you absolutely do not have to read that one for this one to make sense; alistair being super awkward but also super in love; basically just pure tooth-rotting fluff, but as always, let me know if I've missed anything!

Words: 1,860

Author’s Note: we interrupt your scheduled "king of all birds" programming to bring you nearly two thousand words of completely self-indulgent fluff 🥰. soft alistair lovers please come get y'all juice!! 💜💜 I blame @freakazoidr17cr-5 for infecting me with slow-dancing-with-alistair brainrot and also my sibling's 1940s playlist for allowing me to indulge in scenarios generated by the aforementioned brainrot 💖💖

also, if you don't know the song "it's been a long, long time," I highly recommend listening to it, both because it truly is one of my favorite songs, but also because I think hearing it sets up the vibes/tone of the story. this is my favorite version! 🥰🥰

            Alistair watched you intently as you set up the record player and gently pulled the album from its cardboard sleeve. You adjusted its position on the turntable under his watchful gaze. His fascination with human things and his habit of observing as you completed almost any task were nearly second nature to you now. You were about to start the music when his question interrupted.

            “I’m confused,” his brow was furrowed and his hands fluttered near the record player, almost as though he was trying to gauge its function without touching it. 

            “Mm-hmm,” you softly encouraged him to voice his thought aloud.

            “If the music comes from there,” he pointed across the room to where your phone sat on a sidetable near the couch. “Why do you need… this?” His hand traveled back to vaguely indicate the set-up you had constructed with the record player. You smiled at the question.

            “Just for fun!” you responded lightly, shrugging. Alistair rolled his eyes in mock-exasperation, but you could see the affection behind the gesture. “Some people think the sound is better,” you offered as a further explanation, “but I just think it’s fun to do sometimes.” You turned the machine on and placed the needle on the record, looking up to watch his reaction as the music began to play from the speakers.

            He started just slightly upon hearing the first notes, but then leaned in to watch the album spin under the needle. You stood there for a moment, looking on as he observed the turntable, staying just far enough away that he hovered but never quite touched it. With a small smile, you retreated to the couch and picked up the novel you were reading. 

            “What music is this?” he asked after a few moments, his eyes finding you from where he still stood next to the record player.

            “It’s a collection of music from the 1940s,” you responded, a smile growing on your face when you realized he’d likely be quite amused by the colloquial nickname for the genre, “but people usually just call this kind of music ‘oldies.’” 

            Your words had the desired effect; Alistair scoffed in amusement. He finally gave up his station near the turntable, appearing by your side on the couch in an instant, his own book in hand.

            “’Oldies,’” he repeated under his breath, shaking his head slightly in bemused disbelief. “Not even a century old and they call them ‘oldies.’” He chuckled to himself as he settled back into the cushions. You joined in his laughter for a moment before you both became absorbed in your respective reading, the crooning melodies of the music hanging warmly in the room.

            After a while, you gently leaned your head against his shoulder, intentionally slowing your motion so he had time to anticipate and adjust to the gesture. You could sense him faltering for a moment, unsure of how to reciprocate. Then he tentatively slid an arm behind your shoulders, pulling you closer to his side. The movement was halting and almost awkward, but so endearingly sincere that you couldn’t help but smile softly to yourself as you snuggled further into him. He seemed to relax into the position then, allowing himself to curl into you slightly. 

            Time seemed to melt in that moment, and you weren’t sure how long the two of you sat like that before a change in the song caused his head to snap up. The swelling intro of “It’s Been A Long, Long Time” swirled from the speakers, catching his attention like none of the other songs had.

            “This one’s my favorite,” you said softly as he tilted his head, listening intently to the music. He gently disentangled himself from you and lifted himself from the sofa before bolting back to the record player in a blur. He watched the spinning of the album fixedly as he had before, but this time he chanced touching the machine, placed a tentative hand on the speaker, almost as though he was absorbing the very vibrations of the music.

            “What’s this one called?” he asked in a whisper just barely loud enough for you to hear, eyes still on the record, enraptured by what he was hearing.

            “’It’s Been A Long, Long Time,’” you responded, setting your book aside. Now it was your turn to observe him with adoring fascination, elated that he seemed to be enjoying a song you loved so much. Eventually the final chords began to fade, and Alistair looked up at you with something akin to mild panic in his eyes.

            “How do you make it go again?”

            You hopped up from the couch happily and returned to your position by the record player. You could feel his gaze on you as you lifted the needle, his eyes cataloging each movement with rapt attention as you placed it back on the black plastic grooves. The intro music swelled again, filling the room. 

            This time you closed your eyes, humming along softly and mouthing the lyrics, letting the song guide your movements as you began to sway back and forth. Alistair’s eyes were all for you this time, watching in wonder as you let yourself fall into the soft embrace of the music. As the song faded out for the second time, you opened your eyes slowly to find Alistair’s long fingers resting tentatively on the needle. With the utmost caution, he lifted it from the record – you were certain that had it not been for the supernatural steadiness that graced his every move, his hand would have been trembling. He copied your earlier movements exactly, dropping the needle at the correct place for the song to swell to life again. He stopped then, though, as if he wasn’t quite certain what to do next.

            “Do you want to dance?” you asked, holding out your hand to him, palm up – an invitation. He looked at your open hand for a moment, slowly blinking once before resting his cold palm in your warm one.

            “I—I don’t know what to do next,” he muttered nervously, moving to take a step back and pull his hand from your grasp. You held fast though, gently urging him back toward you, a request he could hardly deny you for long.

            “Give me your other hand, please,” you entreated softly, and he obliged. Slowly, making sure he could anticipate your movements, you wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling the two of you even closer. If he still had a heartbeat, it would have been racing beyond all control. You brought your hand up to circle his shoulder, bringing your faces so close that your noses almost brushed.

            “Is this okay?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

            He nodded wordlessly and swallowed. If he were human, you would have been sure he had stopped breathing. You reached your fingers up to brush back a few errant strands of hair that had fallen into his face. The look in his eyes was equal parts terror and desperation that you understood instantly: he wanted to share this moment with you, but he had no idea what to do.

            Hoping to ease some of his anxiety, you tucked your head against his chest, removing the pressure of such close eye contact. This seemed to work, as it had many times in the past, since he let out a shuddering yet completely unnecessary breath. His body relaxed a bit against you then, and he minutely readjusted the position of his hand on your back before gently squeezing your hand that he still held.

            “What do we do now?” the words were barely a breath against your ear.

            “Just listen to the music,” you whispered back as you leaned into him, slowly encouraging him to sway gently with you. 

Never thought that you would be standing here so close to me

He reacted to your motion instinctively, pulling you into a slow spin across the floor.

There’s so much I feel that I should say, but words can wait until some other day 

Listening to the singer croon the words, you suddenly became hyperaware of Alistair’s hand pressed against you, the other wrapped up with your own. Each place where your skin met his told of hundreds of years of solitude, a protective wall that had been built stone by stone for centuries that was only now beginning to crumble. Every touch spoke a thousand words: I trust you.

Kiss me once, then kiss me twice, then kiss me once again

You could have been wrong, the gesture was so small and you couldn’t see the motion from where your were still tucked against his chest, but you were fairly certain you felt him press three tiny kisses to the top of your head.

Then his breath was at your ear again, reciting the words to the next lyrics as though he had known them forever. And perhaps, in a way, he had:

It’s been a long, long time – haven’t felt like this my dear since can’t remember when – it’s been a long, long time

            Tears formed in your eyes and you swallowed hard, folding yourself even closer to him. You could only guess how much courage it must have taken for him to allow himself to be so vulnerable. You intertwined your fingers with his and squeezed his hand gently, letting him know that you heard everything he had allowed himself to say, that you understood. He returned the gesture: a thank you, a mutual understanding, and a promise.

You’ll never know how many dreams I dream about you, or just how empty they all seem without you

            His movements seemed slightly more confident then, and he swirled you both slowly toward the center of the room, following the rise and fall of the melody with his steps. You chanced a look up at him and found him gazing back at you, a small but genuinely contented smile on his face. You beamed at him, then leaned ever so slightly upwards, hoping he would anticipate your next movement.

So kiss me once, then kiss me twice, then kiss me once again

            In time with the lyrics, you pressed three almost-impossibly soft kisses to his cheek. His skin was as cold as always, and you could feel the scratch of his beard beneath your lips. But there was something so warm about him, like some internal glow that you could sense even if you couldn’t see it. His steps faltered then, and another unneeded breath stuttered from his mouth. You opened your mouth to apologize, fearing you had acted too quickly, but almost as though he could predict your words, he shook his head minutely to assure you that all was well.

            He pulled you back into him and you melted into his embrace as he once again began to spin the two of you in slow circles. This time, when he pressed his lips to the crown of your head, you felt it, just like you heard the words that were so tenderly cradled in the small gesture: I love you.

It’s been a long, long time…

[your-fave-is-being-blended]

Hello! Can you please blend Alistair from The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn :3 :3 :3

Alistair from The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn - Part 2 is being blended!!

You cannot save him.

[simpfordemetri]

Alastair with an over eager human mate. Shes always excited to see him and hug him.

-Girl i would love to say that he loves the contact but its Alistair yk

-However about being anxious for him,he is the same,has so much separation anxiety and need you to be on his sight 24/7

-But he needs some kind of space,and i mean by touch

-He cant be hugging you all day because he will get overstimulated

-But he does loves the fact that you cant also be away from him

-Just…let him decide about the affection