#joham on my mind

[daystar-by-jacqui-natla]

8. RESEARCH

I COULDN'T GET THE STORY OF THE IMPERIAL College Massacre from Helena out of my mind. The details she shared, the way her voice had grown quiet and haunted, it all clung to me like a cold mist that refused to lift. Even after our late-night movie, after Ingram's comforting presence, the story lingered in the back of my mind, seeping into my thoughts like a dark stain.

The next morning, I found myself in the library, surrounded by the journals and documents we had been poring over the previous day. The mansion was quiet, the kind of quiet that settled in when everyone was still lost in their own thoughts, grappling with the enormity of what we had uncovered.

I pulled out my mother's journal, the one with the frantic, desperate entries that hinted at a truth she had never been able to fully articulate. The pages were worn, the ink smudged in places where her hand must have trembled as she wrote. I traced the words with my fingertips, trying to imagine what she had been thinking, what she had been feeling as she scribbled down her discoveries.

Helena's story had added a new layer to the mystery. The massacre wasn't just a horrific event in history; it was connected to everything—Joham, the doctor my mother had been investigating, and the dark forces that seemed to be closing in on us. The idea that my mother might have known about vampires, that she might have been trying to protect me from them, made my chest tighten with a mix of fear and anger. How much had she known? And how had she kept it all hidden?

I flipped through the journal, searching for any mention of the massacre, any clue that might tie it all together. The frustration grew with each blank line, each cryptic note that seemed to lead nowhere. But then, near the end of one of the entries, I saw it—a single, hastily written line.

Imperial College—too dangerous—he knows.

The words were scrawled in a way that was almost illegible, like she had written them in a panic. But there was no mistaking them. My mother had known about the massacre, and whoever "he" was, he had been a part of it.

"Too dangerous," I whispered to myself, trying to piece together what that could mean. Had she been trying to warn someone? Or was she warning herself to stay away? And if she had known about the massacre, why hadn't she told anyone? Why had she kept it all a secret, even from my father?

I needed to find an article about the massacre. If Helena knew about it, surely there must be articles written about it. I put the journal down and grabbed my MacBook, opening the search engine. My fingers hovered over the keys for a moment, uncertain of what exactly to type. The story seemed like it should have been front-page news, yet it had slipped through the cracks of history, buried under more mundane headlines.

I typed in "Imperial College Massacre" and hit enter. The screen filled with links, but most of them were unrelated—articles about the college itself, academic papers, a few obscure blogs discussing conspiracy theories. I scrolled down, my frustration mounting, until finally, I saw something that caught my eye.

"The Forgotten Tragedy: Imperial College Massacre of 1984."

The title alone sent a shiver down my spine. I clicked on it, and an old newspaper article, scanned and uploaded to some archive site, appeared on the screen. The text was grainy, and the photographs were blurred with age, but it was the best lead I had.

The article began with a summary of the events that had unfolded on that dark day:

"On the evening of 15th November 1984, Imperial College London became the site of one of the most mysterious and brutal tragedies in modern history. A group of twenty students and two professors were found dead in one of the college's oldest buildings, their bodies drained of blood and arranged in a circle. The massacre, as it has since been dubbed, shocked the nation, but despite the horror and the media frenzy that followed, the case was never solved. Official reports claimed there were no signs of forced entry, and no evidence of a struggle. The cause of death was officially listed as exsanguination, but the means by which this was achieved has remained a point of controversy. Some investigators suggested a ritualistic element, while others leaned towards a more scientific, albeit inexplicable, explanation. The case was quietly closed a year later, with the deaths attributed to an 'unidentified perpetrator.' No arrests were ever made."

I stared at the screen. The details were gruesome, but they aligned eerily well with what I now knew—or suspected—about Joham. If vampires had been involved, it explained the exsanguination and the lack of evidence left behind. But why had the story been buried so thoroughly?

I scrolled down, reading through the rest of the article. It went on to describe the aftermath, the grief-stricken families, the outraged students who had demanded answers that never came. There was a mention of several faculty members who had resigned shortly after the incident, and one professor who had gone missing, only to be found weeks later, his body washed up on the banks of the Thames. The police had ruled it a suicide.

Then, towards the end of the article, there was a brief, almost casual mention of a man named Dr. Lucifer Joham. My breath caught in my throat as I read his name.

"Among those questioned during the investigation was Dr. Lucifer Joham, a professor who had been conducting classes at the college during the time of the massacre. Dr. Joham, who had ties to several prominent research institutions across Europe, was cleared of any suspicion, though some students reported seeing him in the vicinity of the building on the night of the incident. He left the country shortly thereafter and has not been heard from since."

I leaned back in my chair, staring at the name. Dr. Lucifer Joham.

Joham.

It had to be him. He had been there, possibly even involved in the massacre, and yet he had walked away without a trace. And now, decades later, his name had resurfaced in connection with my mother's research.

The article ended with a few lines about the lasting impact of the massacre on the college community, but by then, my mind was racing too fast to focus on the words. I quickly bookmarked the page, then opened a new tab to search for more information on Lucifer Joham. But as I scrolled through the results, it became clear that he had covered his tracks well. There were a few academic papers published under his name, all related to obscure medical research, but nothing that tied him to the massacre or to my mother's investigation.

Frustrated, I closed the laptop and sat back, trying to make sense of it all. I started to think about at the Volturi confrontation when I sided with the Cullens, defending them - - more importantly, Renesmee. I thought about Huilen's story of her sister's death and Nahuel's birth...

"I am Huilen," the woman announced in clear but strangely accented English. "A century and a half ago, I lived with my people, the Mapuche. My sister was Pire. Our parents named her after the snow on the mountains because of her fair skin. And she was very beautiful—too beautiful. She came to me one day in secret and told me of the angel that found her in the woods, that visited her by night. I warned her." Huilen shook her head mournfully. "As if the bruises on her skin were not warning enough. I knew it was the Libishomen of our legends, but she would not listen. She was bewitched.

"She told me when she was sure her dark angel's child was growing inside her. I didn't try to discourage her from her plan to run away—I knew even our father and mother would agree that the child must be destroyed, Pire with it. I went with her into the deepest parts of the forest. She searched for her demon angel but found nothing. I cared for her and hunted for her when her strength failed. She ate the animals raw, drinking their blood. I needed no more confirmation of what she carried in her womb. I hoped to save her life before I killed the monster.

"But she loved the child inside her. She called him Nahuel, after the jungle cat, when he grew strong and broke her bones—and loved him still.

"I could not save her. The child ripped his way free of her, and she died quickly, begging all the while that I would care for her Nahuel. Her dying wish—and I agreed.

"He bit me, though, when I tried to lift him from her body. I crawled away into the jungle to die. I didn't get far—the pain was too much. But he found me; the newborn child struggled through the underbrush to my side and waited for me. When the pain ended, he was curled against my side, sleeping.

"I cared for him until he was able to hunt for himself. We hunted the villages around our forest, staying to ourselves. We have never come so far from our home, but Nahuel wished to see the child here..."

I sat back, letting the memory of Huilen's story wash over me. The tale of Nahuel's birth and the tragic fate of his mother echoed hauntingly in my mind. There was something about it, something that resonated with the dark history I was uncovering. A century and a half ago, a monstrous being had beguiled and ruined an innocent girl, leaving a trail of death in its wake. And now, here I was, tangled in a web spun by another monster, one who had seemingly lived through the ages, leaving similar devastation wherever he went.

Joham. The name sent chills down my spine. How many lives had he ruined? How many families had been torn apart by his cold, calculated actions? I thought of Nahuel speaking to the Volturi and giving them more information about his father...

"You were able to create an immortal?" As Aro gestured to Huilen, his voice was abruptly intense.

"Yes, but none of the rest can."

A shocked murmur ran through all three groups.

Aro's eyebrows shot up. "The rest?"

"My sisters." Nahuel shrugged again.

Aro stared wildly for a moment before composing his face.

"Perhaps you would tell us the rest of your story, for there seems to be more."

Nahuel frowned. "My father came looking for me a few years after my mother's death." His handsome face distorted slightly. "He was pleased to find me." Nahuel's tone suggested the feeling was not mutual. "He had two daughters, but no sons. He expected me to join him, as my sisters had.

"He was surprised I was not alone. My sisters are not venomous, but whether that's due to gender or a random chance... who knows? I already had my family with Huilen, and I was not interested"—he twisted the word— "in making a change. I see him from time to time. I have a new sister; she reached maturity about ten years back."

"Your father's name?" Caius asked through gritted teeth.

"Joham," Nahuel answered. "He considers himself a scientist. He thinks he's creating a new super-race." He did not attempt to disguise the disgust in his tone...

The memory of Nahuel's words filled me with a deep, unsettling sense of dread. The pieces were coming together, but the picture they formed was far darker than I had imagined. Joham wasn't just a scientist; he was a creator of monsters, one who viewed his own children as mere experiments in his twisted pursuit of a "super-race."

I stood up abruptly, pushing the chair back with a screech against the wooden floor. The walls of the library felt like they were closing in on me, the weight of the revelations pressing down on my chest. I needed air, space to think, to process everything I had just uncovered.

Leaving the library, I made my way outside, the crisp morning air biting at my skin. The mansion's sprawling grounds were peaceful, a stark contrast to the storm of thoughts swirling in my mind. I walked without direction, my feet crunching over the gravel path as I tried to calm the rising panic within me.

If Joham was the one responsible for the Imperial College Massacre, if he was the same man who had fathered Nahuel and his sisters, then what did that mean for me? For my mother? She had known something, perhaps too much, and it had driven her to the edge of desperation. But why? Had she been close to exposing Joham? Or was it something more personal?

I paused by a small pond, the water still and reflective, mirroring the overcast sky above. The ripples from a stray leaf disturbed the surface, breaking the illusion of calm. I stared at it, my mind returning to my mother's journal, to the hurried scrawl that hinted at her fear. "Too dangerous—he knows."

Joham had known something, something that had terrified my mother enough to make her hide the truth from everyone, even her own family. But what had she been trying to protect? Herself? Melissa? Or someone entirely different that I didn't know about yet?

The questions kept circling in my mind, but there were no answers. Only more questions.

As I stood there, the wind picking up slightly, a thought struck me. If Joham was still out there, still pursuing his twisted experiments, then he was a danger not just to any female humans, but to anyone who crossed his path. The massacre at Imperial College, Nahuel's story—these were just fragments of a much larger, more sinister puzzle.

I knew then that I couldn't just leave this alone. I had to find out the truth, no matter how terrifying it might be. I had to uncover whatever it was that my mother had known, the secret that had haunted her until the day she died.

With renewed determination, I turned back towards the mansion, my steps quicker, more purposeful. There was more research to be done, more clues to uncover. And perhaps, somewhere in the depths of those old journals and documents, I would find the key to unlocking the mystery of Joham and his monstrous legacy.

But even as I walked back inside, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being watched, that somewhere out there, in the shadows, Joham was still watching, still waiting. The thought sent a chill down my spine, but I forced it aside. Fear wouldn't help me now.

I had to be strong. I had to be ready. Because this was far from over.

As I re-entered the mansion, the weight of my resolve seemed to press down on the very air around me. The quiet corridors, once a place of solace, now felt like a labyrinth of secrets, each corner hiding something that could either help me or destroy me. The others were somewhere in the house, each of them lost in their own thoughts, grappling with the implications of what we had uncovered. I knew I needed to speak with them, to share what I had found about Joham, but a part of me hesitated. What if by sharing, I put them all in greater danger? 

I decided to find Helena first. If anyone understood the gravity of what I had uncovered, it would be her. She had been through so much already, and yet, she had a strength about her that I admired. I found her in the sitting room, a cup of tea cradled in her hands as she stared out the large bay window, lost in thought.

"Mum," I said softly as I approached, not wanting to startle her.

She turned, her eyes meeting mine, and I saw the same haunted look in them that had been there ever since she told us about the massacre. "Violet," she greeted, setting the cup down. "What is it? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Maybe I have," I replied, sinking into the armchair opposite her. "I found something—about Joham."

Her eyes widened slightly, and she leaned forward, her attention fully on me now. "What did you find?"

I quickly recounted the details of the old newspaper article, the mention of Joham's presence at Imperial College during the massacre, and Nahuel's story about his father. As I spoke, Helena's expression grew more and more troubled.

When I finished, she sat back, her face pale. "This... this is worse than I feared," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Joham wasn't just a passing figure in your mother's research. He was at the center of it all."

I nodded, the weight of her words settling over me like a heavy cloak. "But what does it mean? What was he trying to achieve with those experiments? And why did he kill all those people?"

Helena shook her head slowly. "If what Nahuel said is true, Joham sees his children as the next step in evolution, a new species that combines the strengths of both humans and vampires. But why massacre all those people at Imperial College? There's no logical reason for that... unless..." Her voice trailed off, and her eyes took on a faraway look as if she was grappling with something she didn't want to believe.

"Unless what?" I prompted, leaning forward, desperate for answers.

"Unless they were part of an experiment gone wrong," she said finally, her voice trembling. "Maybe he was trying to create more hybrids, but something went horribly wrong. Maybe those students and professors were involved somehow—unwitting subjects, perhaps. Or witnesses he couldn't afford to leave alive."

The thought made me feel this sickly rage. Had Joham been trying to replicate his twisted success with Nahuel and his sisters? Had he used those innocent people as mere test subjects in his grotesque experiments? It was almost too horrific to contemplate.

The room seemed to close in around us, the weight of Helena's words pressing down on my chest like a heavy stone. The idea that Joham had sacrificed so many lives in his pursuit of creating a hybrid species—a twisted "super-race"—was horrifying. And if my mother had known about it, if she had discovered the true extent of his experiments, then her fear made perfect sense. She had been terrified, not just for herself, but for me and for anyone who might come into contact with Joham's nightmarish world.

But there was something else gnawing at the edges of my mind, something I couldn't quite grasp. "If Joham was so intent on creating hybrids, why didn't he continue? Why stop after Nahuel and his sisters? There have to be more, right?"

Helena's expression darkened, and she shook her head slowly. "I'm not sure. We don't know how long he's been doing this or how many other victims there might have been. Maybe there were others, but they didn't survive. Or maybe the Cullens and the Volturi put enough fear into him that he went into hiding, laying low to avoid detection. It's possible that Joham realized the risks of continuing his experiments were too great, or that he found another way to achieve his goals."

Her words left a bitter taste in my mouth. The idea of there being more of Joham's creations out there, lost in the world, or worse, still being used in his twisted experiments, was almost too much to bear. If there were others, they might not even know what they were, or the monstrous legacy they were part of.

As we sat in silence, the enormity of what we were dealing with settled heavily between us. The implications were terrifying. We weren't just dealing with a scientist gone rogue, but someone who had the potential to bring a new kind of terror into the world—one that could blend seamlessly into human society until it was too late to stop.

"I don't know what to do next," I admitted, my voice cracking slightly. "How do we even begin to fight someone like him? He's been doing this for so long, and he's covered his tracks so well. We don't even know where he is."

Helena's gaze softened as she reached across the table to take my hand. "Violet, you can't just start a fight with someone who's not threatening you or us."

"But, Mum, Joham is still out there," I reminded her.

"And do you remember what the Volturi said? They will deal with him."

"Technically, they said they should speak with him."

Helena sighed, her hand tightening around mine. "Yes, but the Volturi are not to be trifled with, Violet. If they believe Joham is a threat, they'll take action. But we can't go hunting him down on our own. We have to be smart about this."

Her words made sense, but the idea of waiting for the Volturi to act felt like a betrayal of all the lives Joham had already destroyed. How many more people would suffer while we sat back and did nothing? But I knew Helena was right. The Volturi had power and resources far beyond our own. If anyone could track down Joham and stop him, it would be them. Yet the thought of relying on such ruthless beings to deliver justice was a bitter pill to swallow.

"Maybe you're right," I said reluctantly, pulling my hand back. "But we can't just sit here and wait. There has to be something more we can do, some way to at least find out where he is or what he's planning."

Helena nodded, her expression resolute. "I know you want to know more about your mother but you've got to remember: the massacre happened nearly over twenty years ago. And most people want to bury the past—" Helena paused, her eyes searching mine as she chose her next words carefully "—but if we dig too deep, we might not like what we find."

I felt a pang in my chest. I knew she was right, but the urge to uncover the truth about my mother and Joham was overwhelming. The more I uncovered, the more I felt like I was on the brink of something monumental—something that could change everything. But that was exactly what scared me. What if the truth was too dangerous to handle? What if, by uncovering it, I was putting everyone I cared about at risk?

"I understand," I finally said, though my voice wavered slightly. "But I can't let this go, Mum. I can't stop until I know the truth."

Helena studied me for a long moment, her expression a mix of concern and something else—something that looked like a resigned acceptance. "I know, Violet," she said softly. "And that's what worries me. Just promise me you'll be careful. Promise me you won't do anything reckless."

"I promise," I said, though the words felt hollow. I wasn't sure what counted as reckless anymore. The lines between caution and necessity had blurred in my mind, and the drive to uncover the truth was pushing me further than I had ever imagined.

Helena seemed to sense my inner turmoil because she squeezed my hand gently before letting go. "We'll get through this," she said, her voice steady, as if trying to convince herself as much as me. "We'll figure out what your mother knew, what Joham is planning. But we'll do it together."

I nodded, grateful for her support, even though I could see the fear in her eyes. The fear that the path I was on would lead us somewhere we couldn't come back from.

"Thank you, Mum," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "For being here. For helping me."

"Always, love," she replied, her voice filled with warmth. "We'll get to the bottom of this. I promise."

The room fell into a contemplative silence, both of us lost in our thoughts. The path ahead was unclear, and the dangers were real. But for now, we had each other, and that had to be enough.

As we sat there, the mansion around us seemed to settle into a stillness, as if holding its breath for whatever was to come. The secrets we had uncovered were only the beginning, and I had a feeling the true darkness was yet to be revealed. But whatever happened next, I knew I wouldn't face it alone.

And that, at least, was a comfort.

[joham-fate]

"Joe, we both know, that you need Graham."

- Debbie to Joe -

Look at the way he turns his face up when Debbie says it.

It's like he totally agrees with her, but can't bring himself to admit it.

You can see how much Joe misses Graham. He face looks all morose, and his eyes are kind of sad and faraway for a moment.

Also, I swear he makes this sort of growl in the back of his throat. I almost blushed

[joham-fate]

Here for the Graham Foster appreciation club! ❤

We shall all have to get in line behind Joe though.

i love graham foster you guys

[therealvinelle]

What if Torgrim was Edwards secret weapon instead of Aro/Caius? When they're all looking for people to join their little army, Edward runs into Torgrim. Maybe he sees his gift in action and it happened to work out for Torgrim. Edward's rubbing his hands together like a stereotypical villan. "Hehe, take that Aro!" He somehow keeps this guy secret from the rest of the group until the big show down. Keep in mind, Edward thinks the Torgrims gift isn't random and he just ignores Torgrims desperate attempts at explaining as being modest or low self-esteem. Just when things are getting real tense and everyone's convinced their going to fight, Edward does this weird, elaborate whistle and Torgrim comes awkwardly shuffling out of the woods. Everyone is like, who the fuck is this guy? Edward goes on a monolog about Torgrims gift and incorrectly explains how it works. Torgrim is just fed up with this guy at this point and doesn't bother interrupting. This just makes the tensions even worse. Let's say someone, Caius, calls his bluff and Edward puts Torgrim on the spot. He has to demonstrate his gift or else be seen as impotent. His patience runs out and he's like "fuck it" and thanos snaps. What happens next?

(Note: Torgrim's text file of killable vampires now includes hybrids. This means Renesmee, Nahuel, and Joham's daughters are on the line.)

You know, you could have ended this question with "Torgrim is Edward's secret weapon", because everything else is just par for the course what Edward and Torgrim would come up with.

But, alright, these two somehow met, Edward (and Torgrim, for that matter) don't entirely understand Torgrim's gift, and Edward keeps Torgrim hiding in the bushes as his ace in the hole.

And then suddenly, one thing has led to another, speeches have been made, now Torgrim is put on the spot.

He snaps his fingers.

Torgrim blows up Carmen

(Oh, I laugh, because per the last post, this means Carmen got so close to the sweet release of death. So close!!)

Caius bursts out laughing, Aro's hands fly up to cover his mouth, and even Marcus raises an eyebrow. Slightly. According to some accounts.

The Cullen side, meanwhile, yells and screams in horror, oh holy god did she just die, yada yada.

Edward whirls on Torgrim, YOU TRAITOR!!

Torgrim, desperately, insists this wasn't his fault, he didn't do this on purpose, he'll make this right. Maybe it's that shield's fault! Yeah, maybe if Bella wasn't covering them all in this massive psychic dome, Torgrim would be able to kill vampires outside the dome and kill the people he's supposed to. Yeah.

Eleazar, sobbing over his wife's rubble, yells something unintelligible. What he's trying to say is, "That's not how any of this works, you idiot!"

Torgrim, however, interprets the unintelligible sob-babble as "don't let my wife's sacrifice be in vain, noble soldier!" and snaps his fingers again.

Torgrim blows up Irina

... I forgot to remove her from the list. Let's for the sake of the exercise assume she wasn't dead yet.

Caius laughs harder, while Aro at this point feels the need to assure the people gathered, Cullens, witnesses, and the lot, that he has never met Torgrim before, this guy is not working for him, the Volturi don't blow people up like this, really, no legal accountability here. Aro is as surprised as anybody.

Unfortunately, Aro's nervous ramble now has people on both sides thinking Torgrim is in fact a spy.

Which is bad news for Torgrim, who doesn't want to get the vampire equivalent of shivved.

He snaps his fingers.

Torgrim blows up Volturi guard member #9

Caius stops laughing, but he's still snickering. Aro, on his end, is relieved, for all that he'd never admit as much. "Oh, what a tragic loss! Carlisle, you need to stop your man before he kills any more people."

Carlisle, unfortunately, wastes precious seconds explaining to the crowd that Torgrim is not his man, in fact he's never seen the man before in his life.

Torgrim snaps his fingers again.

Torgrim blows up Random vampire across the globe #17

Nothing happens.

The crowd relaxes incrementally, and Emmett's heavy hand clamps down on Torgrim's shoulder. "Let's stop snapping, huh, buddy?"

But Torgrim doesn't like being told what to do.

He snaps his fingers again.

Torgrim blows up Peter

Pffffft.

Emmett moves to decapitate Torgrim, unfortunately Torgrim has time for one last snap. (Let's hope it's Emmett, that'll leave the crowd in terrified awe of Torgrim)

Torgrim blows up Mary

Mary, for the unknowing, is another one of Carlisle's friends.

Torgrim burns on a pyre, and the trial recommences, this time with the Cullen side just a bit more sparse.

[lunastwilightblog]

The Volturi are the good guys and Bella is the up-and-coming villain

I’m on my computer for this as I know it might be long, but bear with me (insert Emmett pun here) 🐻

So wait - the Volturi are the good guys? But didn’t SM write them as the bad guys? 

Well, yes, SM did write Aro and co in as the antagonists of the series, but bear in mind that originally she didn’t write most of New Moon to happen, or the entirety of Eclipse. There was Twilight and Forever Dawn, which we’ll sadly never read. Her vision of the Volturi and their role as the evil villains who wanted to separate Edward and Bella became distorted as she had to flesh them out more and show their role as the governing body.

Then she wrote the Illustrated Guide and revealed their history and the horrors of the world without their authority; with the Romanians being as brutal as they were, the constant terror humans lived with and the fracturing of the world into many unstable and violent vampire-ruled empires (plus with way more children of the moon running about, probably as far west as - at least - central Europe). 

When the Volturi were coming to power they were laughed at with the idea of their law, a significant reason the Romanians didn’t take them seriously. But now they are extremely popular.

This isn’t just because Aro created vampires to go out and sing his praises. Volturi rule has been a blessing for both humans and vampires.

For humans it’s the obvious: they are not living their lives in fear, they are not subject to massacres (except if caught in newborn warzones), their population has been able to grow and expand, modern medicine and technology have been able to flourish, society is much more stable, people need to flee areas much less (if ever) so they can stay put and complete research/live to meet their grandkids/etc, and not have to serve a vampire in the local castle. 

For vampires it’s actually quite similar: with the human population growing to as large as it is today when at the time the Volturi came to power it was (estimated to be) only 210 million globally, vampires have been able to grow to even greater numbers also, and feed more often than before. If a vampire 2000 years ago killed 5 people in a town it would be an outrage the humans would certainly have noticed, however kill 5 people in a place as big as London, LA, Paris, Singapore, Bucharest... it would likely not be noticed very much, if at all (depending on who you kill).  

Humans like to measure things in percentages. Those 5 people is a huge number to a town of 2000 - that’s 0.25% of the whole town’s population. It would be talked about, and relatives of the dead/missing would all know each other. Yet kill those 5 in a city of 12 million (as is London), that’s only 0.00004167% of the population. And chances are, the dead humans’ families don’t even live in the area (or could be in another country entirely) never mind know each other to realise there was a mass murder.

So vampires, as long as they hide from humans, as is the only law (besides no immortal children or consorting with werewolves), they have a lot more freedom nowadays than they did before the times of the Volturi. There are so many people that they can easily get lost in a crowd, move internationally, and not be pressured for allegiance by a local vampire warlord (before meeting Aro, Caius ran afoul of the Romanians, and he barely escaped with his life).

With there only being one authority, and one that does not interfere with your day-to-day life, is a dream come true. As long as they don’t break this law that is very easy to abide by, they can do whatever the f*** they want.

Carlisle would have never been able to get a job as a doctor if he was known to be a vampire, nor could any of the Cullens have entered education of any form. They’d be stuck sneaking into libraries after closing, and googling. Edward would have never met Bella (neither would Edward’s ancestors have immigrated to America - in fact, Europeans may have never discovered America in the first place. The whole Cullen coven aside from Carlisle might never have been born).

So what the Volturi have done (despite many of them having not-so-savoury personalities corrupted by hunger for power or violence) is bring peace to the world, get rid of tyrants, increase the food supply, allow a greater amount of freedom, and the first kind of trials and justice ever seen in their world. Sure, Aro uses trials to find new talent, but it’s still a world away from before.

Which leads me on to the events of Breaking Dawn, and Bella.

So. Maybe controversial, but: the Volturi did absolutely nothing wrong in Breaking Dawn.

They turned up thinking a serious crime had been committed. They stopped to talk (which Vladimir certainly never would have done!), considered the evidence and processed new discoveries and discussed their legality, decided there was no crime to punish, and left with only the informant dead. Yes, Irina had been innocent in the way that she strongly had believed she had been telling the truth and her memories must have presented good enough evidence to Aro initially, but their witnesses had come to see justice being served, and in the vampire world that is execution. Aro could have continued with prosecuting the Cullens for something he now knew was false, or execute Irina instead.

(Side note: she did kind of deserve it too. She didn’t bother to check her evidence, she wanted revenge for Laurent’s death so her accusation wasn’t coming from a place of good intentions but instead she was willing to have her friends and family killed for Laurent. She was also forcing Aro into a position where he had to prepare himself to kill Carlisle, whom we know he cherishes. Remember also that Aro turned down Laurent’s application to the Guard because he’d followed the Romanians for a while, so he won’t have been entirely trusting of Irina anyway, her having been Laurent’s mate).

Anyway. Onto Bella.

So Aro’s impression of Bella after New Moon seems to be positive. Why? Well, through Edward’s thoughts he saw that Bella was able to keep The Secret. He had heard how much she wanted to be a vampire. In addition, Marcus showed him how strong Edward and Bella’s bond is. Both of them knew, that if E & B’s love was almost as strong as Marcus and Didyme’s, that no matter what Edward currently said or thought about Bella being turned it was invalid. If Bella were dying, he would turn her for sure, which happened. Then the obvious, that Edward had already proven he could not live without her.

Bella was trustworthy and probably going to be turned. Alice showing proof was just a formality so Aro could say he had evidence rather than admit he’d just made assumptions (and Alice having had that vision may act as proof that his assumption was correct).

Therefore, from Aro’s perspective, Bella was a human who wanted to become immortal so much that she would rather die than not, and she was already following his law. She was no issue. 

Yet.

Bella, knowing the law, should have been very grateful that she was left alive. Edward not being executed and she not being killed or forcibly turned on the spot... Aro had been very nice to them.

And again, in BD, he was very nice to them. Some people will inevitably say that he was weak in not killing them all. I mean, they stood beside Vladimir and Stefan! They have an army of wolves fundamentally opposed to vampires! Aro has lost Good Reputation Points by sparing the Cullens. He held as close to a trial as vampire society has ever had, and rightfully pronounced the Cullens innocent.

So shouldn’t Bella like him? He has spared her life and the lives of her loved ones more than one, and proven that he can be spoken to and conversed with properly and is willing to admit he was wrong. With Aro, we know it’s important to look more at what he does than what he says, and what he has done is be very kind to the Cullens (though who knows about the future?).

Yet Bella was creeped out by him when they met and interpreted him as a threat to Edward’s life. As she loves Edward, she’s always going to be of this mind, and first impressions are important.

Vampires are stuck with the mindsets they had when turned. An example of this is Esme, who was turned after her baby died and she tried to die too. She is permanently feeling maternal. She was turned only days after giving birth. Before knowing this, Bella even describes her as maternal and the mother of the family. Huilen also has a lot of care for Nahuel, being his aunt, because of her love for Pire, and while she was dying, Pire begged Huilen to raise him. Joham does not seem to have this parental love for his son and daughters; he never really knew Pire and was never affected by her love for Nahuel, and did not meet him until years after he was born. He’s only genetically a parent. He doesn’t have the protective mindset. When he was turned, he was a curious scientist (in fact, it was even why his creator turned him). He sees the world and people as things to study.

Anyway.

When Bella was turned, all she was thinking about was Renesmee. She begged Edward to get the baby out and didn’t care for her own life.

And she will be forever stuck in this high alert, must-protect-my-baby mode. Then for weeks as a newborn vampire, she was thinking of Aro as a threat and preparing to fight him. Compounding that, he was a threat to her daughter.

Both of these things will have had a significant effect on who she will have become after her newborn phase ended. It is impossible for Bella to ever like Aro now, even if she tried.

Her dislike of him, and willingness to fight against him, will be forever engrained in her brain.

This is dangerous.

Bella found the Romanians weird, but she didn’t dislike them per se. She would probably be willing to stand with them against the Volturi again.

We can take an educated guess and assume that sometime they will rise up again - and Bella might stand with them (though I highly doubt any of the other Cullens would).

Bella was not a problem for Aro until she stood beside Vladimir and Stefan. 

Here is this vampire who can block most of his coven’s gifts, stuck with an intense dislike of him, who he has seen with his own eyes stand with his enemies. He has every right to be nervous now. Her love for her mate is almost as strong as Marcus’s bond to Didyme - how strong is her bond to Renesmee? Likely more. Aro knows the threat in that. He knows that Bella may be viewing him in the way Marcus feels when he thinks of taking revenge on whoever killed Didyme.

Nobody wants the Romanians back in power. Those who lived under their reign and those who have heard first hand stories told to them all know very well that life under Vladimir would be horrible, brutal, awful for all beside his close coven members (though considering he had a very large coven that was often squabbling amongst itself, it was probably miserable for a lot of them too).

But Bella is young. She has no memory of the world before the Volturi, and knows no one with first hand experience of that world other than the Volturi. She will have heard that it was horrible, but she has no emotional or personal connection to the near-ancient past, and vampires who lived during that time are disappearing. No one lives forever.

Then, she is American. Like Garrett, she values freedom, and the Volturi are the only oppressive vampire force either of them has ever known. Despite them being the least oppressive in vampire history, Bella and Garrett haven’t experienced the alternative. They are a government that is at times harsh, is corrupt, and executes people. They go to war and they obliterate their enemies. Bella doesn’t see that the Volturi is the least bad government her world is ever going to get, and that they’ve granted her so much freedom. She is unable to see that because, in her youth, she has nothing to compare them against.

By standing against the Volturi, Bella isn’t just standing against Aro, Caius, and Marcus. She is standing against the peace they have brought between vampires, against humans living without fear, against modern civilisation itself. She stands a representative of the next world order, and Aro can sense it.

[joham-fate]

I am here for the Joe x Graham X Silverware storyline.

Can you imagine the glares Graham would be giving as Joe nibbles the handle of his fork, as he's thinking considerably hard about something. And Graham's sat there watching, feeling envious of that fork.

(Sorry, I really can't help myself when it comes to these two.)

Joe is honesty so shippable with almost everyone except Debbie and I can’t believe they’re prob gon go back there with a Ross and have a triangle

I refute this being put out into the universe, the only love triangle Joe’s going to be in is between him, Graham, and the silverware Joe buys that he loves but Graham hates

[theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin]

When I saw 'Romanians' mentioned in your last post I had a wtf moment cause I have only watched the movies and I don't think I've ever noticed their existence. Regardless, I just had to read the wiki page and it is hillarious to me cause coincidence or not they seem to be named after the psychopathic ruler 'Vlad the impaler' and his cousin 'Stefan the great'(he might have murdered more people than his cousin known as the impaler, but you know he is great). Also, what do you think of them? Sorry for the rant...

You have no idea what you’ve unleashed.

I love the Romanians because they are, hands down, the trashiest, weirdest, lamest, loser vampires in Twilight canon. 

Just, these two are so hilariously beautiful.

First off, while Meyer undoubtedly named them with Vlad Tepish and Stefan the Great in mind, the Romanians are actually much older. We don’t have exact dates, but we know the Romanians (then presumably the Dacians), held great power over their territory for a thousand years before the Volturi had truly established themselves. After the Volturi took on and won against Amun’s coven in Egypt (and took the grateful Demetri off Amun’s hands making Amun still bitter thousands of years later) they waged war against the Romanians and won. (Vlad and Stefan are still very bitter but give us the silver lining of “oh yeah, well, we’re only partly petrified. SO TAKE THAT STUPID VOLTURI!”)

Vlad, Stefan, and Vlad’s wife were the only survivors. The Romanians, being one of the most evil and trashy covens in Twilight, decided to take on Volterra by amassing an army of 100 vampires. Hilariously, they had poor timing, this is a decade after Aro acquired Jane and Alec. The entire army is defeated in a second, Vlad’s wife is murdered, and by 810 AD, it’s just Vlad and Stefan.

They’ve remained losers the Volturi don’t take seriously ever since. Every decade, Demetri pays them a visit to remind them that yes, the Volturi does remember them and can find them any time they want to. Even more hilariously, Vlad and Stefan take this very seriously, and are constantly on the run from the Volturi, never aware that the Volturi actually don’t care. At all. 

Point being, given these guys, first it’s entirely likely their original names are not Vlad and Stefan. We see many of the vampires of the ancient world periodically change their name. We have Chelsea and Demetri, who are canonically acknowledged as having done this. Given when and where they were born, we can assume Marcus and Caius were not originally Marcus and Caius. Similarly, we can assume Aro’s name was originally far longer as well.

None the less, it would be just like these two to name themselves after these Romanian human warlords, one of whom serves and the inspiration for the modern vampire myth in Europe. And then, insist, of course, that the human rulers were actually named after Vlad and Stefan, because the humans still worship them, you know.

They’re going to be back on top any day now, you’ll see. 

That’s another thing worth getting into. The Romanians are evil. I’m not exaggerating this, of all the vampires in Twilight, they are the most appalling (and this is including James, Maria and the southern war lords, Joham... well not Joham, he’s a special brand of evil). These guys had a thousand year reign of terror in Dacia. Humans were butchered seemingly by entire villages, they made humans their slaves and demanded worship and sacrifice. When the humans periodically tried to overthrow them, they slaughtered them all, presumably placed their heads on spikes, and used them to taunt those few surviving humans.

When they lost power, they made an army a hundred vampires strong, which given what we see of the newborns in Seattle (who were only around twenty and still far too large to control), probably wiped out several large settlements in eastern Europe. Didn’t matter, just as long as they got rid of the Volturi.

And they miss those glory days dearly.

They actively reminisce about in Breaking Dawn to an oblivious Bella, who is just so happy these very important and impressive Europeans are here to help her beautiful daughter and so impressed they they’ve been fighting the corrupt Volturi for thousands of years (which is another bit of hilarity we’ll get into). You know, when/if the Volturi fall, the Romanians will be the first in line to rape the women and enslave us all. Good times, good times.

But back to them being trash people.

Vlad and Stefan are utterly destitute, their entire coven is destroyed, and yet they still insist they’re a Big Fucking Deal. Not only that, but just their every action is beyond weird. They talk in unison like Fred and George Weasley, they’re these ridiculously tiny men dressed as stereotypical vampires, and they show up out of nowhere on your doorstep saying, “So, hear you’re starting an insurrection against Volterra, Carlisle, we want in” (While Carlisle, I’m sure, just dies a thousand times inside). 

They then talk to Bella all about how they fight the corruption of the Volturi. What is the corruption, you ask? Well, the Volturi drove them out of their kingdom and liberated the human slaves. Then they imposed this stupid law where you couldn’t eat humans in broad daylight. Then when the Romanians tried to invade Italy they killed them all.

The Romanians will expose the Volturi’s crimes here and now. They stand for justice, peace, and Renezel--Renpunz--Renesmee. (The Romanians decidedly do not come for Renesmee, they hear about Carlisle’s army through the vampire European rumor mill, which just shows how out of hand it all got because now Carlisle’s amassing an army to protect the immortal child his son made. They show 0 interest in Renesmee.)

They give me serious McPoyle vibes.

More, beautifully, everything they touch becomes tainted.

Laurent, another beautiful loser character, starts life as a French courtier in Versailles. When he’s turned into a vampire, he assumes the vampire world works like Versailles. It works nothing like Versailles.

He seeks out those vampires with the greatest power.

Well, vampires in general are cannibalistic homeless nomads who care nothing for power.

This brings him, beautifully, to the Romanians. They insist to Laurent they’re super cool and powerful, Laurent believes them, but either Laurent eventually clues in or realizes something’s not right here. So, he goes to seek out the real power, the Volturi.

Unfortunately, Laurent is a loser, the Volturi is not court, and Aro has no need for some lackey trying to get in his good graces. Plus, Laurent hung out willingly with Vlad and Stefan. And anyone who does that...

So, Aro goes, “Ew, no, leave.”

Laurent is convinced, even when canon rolls around and he’s sunk so low as to hang out with James and Victoria (also loser vampires), that Aro will call him back any day now.

Aro never does. Laurent is eaten by untrained sixteen-year-old shape shifters.

But yes, point being, I imagine that in this modern era the Romanians would have a Go Fund Me for purchasing the blow torches they’ll use to destroy the Volturi once and for all. They also have a YouTube channel which is unintentionally dungeon porn, in which they cover their heads in bags so as not to be recognized, and talk about the good old days in thick Romanian accents. It’s a very popular YouTube channel, nobody understands why they wear so much body glitter.

Oh, right, Bella.

Bella is so beautiful with these guys. So, in Breaking Dawn, Bella actually takes the Romanians seriously. They’re all I describe above and more, they’re not hiding it, they’re full McPoyle (including the taking over the world built). Jake even tells Bella he finds them weird as hell. Bella thinks they’re great.

No, really, she thinks they’re great.

They tell her how they enslaved all the people in their territory, demanded tithes, and would eagerly do so again as soon as they get the chance and she stares at them with wide eyes and thinks about how cool all these vampires who came for precious Renesmee are. (Which, funnily, they actually all came either for Carlisle, because he has a billion friends everywhere, or else as a power grab like the Romanians, or both in Amun’s case. It’s the weirdest, most beautiful, mixture of people.)

Bella has her moments, but loving the Romanians has got to be a top ten for her. My explanation is that she’s so high on vampirism and Renesmee that this is all just great for her. LIFE IS WONDERFUL!

EDIT: I could no longer abide my spelling mistakes, I also edited a bit for cleanliness.

[wallwriterstuff]

Hi!What do you think about Demetri/Alec/Felix dating a hybrid?I mean, I had this idea since i read the last book but what if they found their mate when they went to check up on Joham?And one of his daughters is a redhead with unreal green eyes and shes even more beautiful than Heidi or Rosalie? Hybrids are more beautiful than vampires they say.Maybe has a gift too?I think this is an idea the entire fandom went over and i think its cool so if you want to, could u write some headcanons about it?

Hi hey hello! I definitely did enjoy writing these headcanons. Sorry they took a wee while but I hope you like! 

Alec: He will be aged up to the movie version in this since hybrids fully mature to look like adults 😊

This boy is insatiably curious

You fascinate him

You’ve been alive a while but your experience is so different to his, you’ve lived so differently under your father’s influence

Expect long nights telling him every detail of your existence, what it was like to grow up so fast with your sisters, with Joham, knowing your brother only through notes and the occasional visit

He has learned by now that you come as a package deal with your sisters, but this is something he understands. As he and Jane shared a womb, so shall they share a life

Constantly tries to get you to eat human food because oh my god you can eat it without gagging?             +  “And this?”                          “Alec I can eat human food, it just tastes like cardboard.”                    “Even this?”

The first time you sleep in his presence he has this awestruck expression. He’s not watched anyone sleep in all the time he’s been immortal and doesn’t remember what it was like to sleep himself. All those faces you make as you dream send his mind absolutely reeling because what are you thinking about? What do you dream of? Is it bizarre in your head? What he wouldn’t give to catch a mere glimpse of your dreams…

Jane is…difficult. She wants to like you, really she does, but the only other hybrid she knows belongs to the Cullen’s and that whole fiasco is a sore spot as a Volturi defeat in her mind (and no one defeats her coven)

The first time you get a small scrape Alec FreAkS out because oh god you’re bleeding the whole room is going to be after your sweet sweet blood and…and it’s too sweet…you, you really don’t smell all that appealing like a regular human, hell, Santiago’s not even noticed? What?

Always grumbles and complains your too hot when you cuddle (you’re a solid 40°C after all) but secretly loves your warmth. He’s been frozen for centuries and you’re his very own hot water bottle          + Does get a wee bit annoyed when you make him spoon with you later into the relationship because vampires aren’t be able to supposed to sweat but he SWEARS venom is leaking from every pore in his body because you make the bed an oven

15/10 from this boy, adores having a hybrid mate, you are the perfect snuggle buddy for him and just the right amount of human to make him feel like he’s doing a good job protecting you (even though you’re a hybrid and almost as strong as he is, it’s an old timey thing and he died a pubescent boy, let him feel like a man please)

Demetri:

Honestly? He forgets half of the time

“Absolutely not, I will not risk you coming hunting with me!”                “I need to hunt and I will not be letting you stop me, bloodhound.”

When they had first gone to find Joham Demetri had been more than curious, the differences in his mind between vampire and hybrid stark considering they’d almost caused a war with the Cullen’s

He replayed the trial over and over in his mind as he followed the strangely vibrant tenor straight to…his mate?

Excuse you?

It swings one way or the other for the initial getting to know period, either he’s treating your fragile ‘human’ self like glass or your ‘vampire’ self is being thrown against the nearest wall because the man has urges and you’re more than happy to satisfy them

You were mostly raised by your sister, living the nomadic life of a vampire with visits to your father now and then when he wanted to check on your development, so you pair spend long hours discussing all the places you’ve been and things you have seen                    + Since Demetri is far older he has lots more stories to tell so these evenings eventually turn into him telling stories while you end up in a variety of situations. Sometimes he’s holding you to him in bed while he waits for you to fall asleep, other times he lights the fire and you sit curled up together on the sofa before it. 

Your favourite Storytime setting by far is the window seat, where you can lean back against his chest and be blanketed by the diamonds his skin reflects in the sunset

You don’t really like human food all that much, but in an effort to woo you he spent all day watching videos and messing up recipes until he had perfected (if you count perfected as collapsing in on itself in places and a little bit raw in the middle) a chocolate cake to welcome you to Volterra for the first time

There was a little flour on his jaw still when he presented it to you and his eyes were all big

He had this smug little smile too

Too smug considering the state of the cake

You’ve been treated to baked goods ever since and Demetri has gotten rather good at his new hobby

110% watches you sleep but not for nefarious reasons. You talk in your sleep and Demetri has compiled a secret list of things you say for his eyes only            + His favourite so far is “Felix no, put that poor duck down.”                     + You didn’t remember where that had come from so it remains without context, and Demetri has made a myriad of stories each more outlandish than the next as to where that quote came from

Loves to lay his head on your chest and listen to your fast, fluttering heartbeat, you get bonus points if you play with his hair

Doesn’t even bother tracking you by tenor anymore, you radiate heat, he knows when you’re near because he gets warmer

You’re rather self-concious that you live among the Volturi without being gifted             + Demetri is always quick to remind you that your very nature is the most extraordinary gift in itself

Overall a very good match for a hybrid, you’re never bugged by endless questions like your sister is with Alec but you do need to remind him sometimes of your dual-species label, you need blood as much as you need sleep

Felix:

This character follows a specific idea of appearance stated in the request

Felix absolutely adores you, your perfect for him in every way!

Someone small and durable? Sign him up!

Your attitude is as fiery as your hair, which is a good thing because Felix needs someone as stubborn as he is

His head is as thick as his arms

The minute he sees you he’s completely under your spell which surprises only those closest to him – the mans a giant teddy bear as you now well know

Felix takes things nice and slow, he’s never been a fan of rushing into things when it comes to romance, and is very much intro traditional ways of wooing you                  + The first thing you receive is a simple letter, elegantly written in a large spidery hand. You were already smitten with the beefy man by the last line, the flowers that arrived a week later really weren’t necessary but very much appreciated

Your hybrid nature is perfect to him because for once, his height difference with you doesn’t seem so scary. He can’t help being big, but at least with your durability he doesn’t have to worry about crushing you

Felix is considered a grunt, muscle and little else, but he’s shared with you his passion for reading and poetry – you never tire of the poems he creates for you

He’s a very proud man so expect to be shown off to all the Guard and basically everyone you ever meet               + “Enough of your chatter! You know your crime, now face your punishment!”                                                           “ I wouldn’t test my mate if I were you.”                                               “Are you really going to reveal such a tactical weakness? They could target her.”                                                           “…I wouldn’t test this extremely beautiful and talented woman I am in no way connected to if I were you.”                    “Smooth Felix, really smooth.”

Once you feel comfortable with Felix, you show him your gift and its extraordinary effects – his eyes widen at the vivid, ethereal shade of green your eyes turn as you lift a hand and coax all the flora in the room towards you, you can expect him to never shut up about it once he knows               + “Can you make another one?”                                                           “Not unless I hunt first.”                                                        “And then you can make me another flower?”

Felix, it turns out, is a giant goofball when he’s at home. You’re so used to seeing the tense guardsmen it is a complete shock to you when you start living with him in Volterra and see how carefree he is within the walls of his own home

You try not to condone his prank war with Demetri since they both get in trouble for it but you can’t resist helping out from time to time…you can tie off water balloons quicker than he can so you make a good accomplice

Felix doesn’t really touch you in public but he does steal kisses to assert his claim on you. He’ll kiss your forehead whenever he enters or exits a room you’re in, presses kisses to your cheek when you pass each other in the corridor

He reserves a kiss on the lips of any kind for when he’s leaving for a while if in public, like if he’s preparing for a mission with the guard for example, but when you’re alone expect to constantly be coddled by him. He wraps himself around you like a blanket and Will. Not. Let. Go!

[joham-fate]

This needs to be a thing. This is so accurate for them. Hope someone does a video to this.

me, watching a meme video w tainted love by soft cell in it: haha

me, two seconds later: wow what a joegraham song

[daystar-by-jacqui-natla]

11. VALENTINE

VIOLET KHOTLER

THE HUM OF THE HUMMINGBIRD'S WINGS was barely perceptible as it fluttered near the window. Its iridescent feathers caught the faint, pale light of the morning, creating fleeting glimmers of color amidst the grey haze that clung to the outside world. I watched its delicate dance with a strange sense of detachment, my thoughts miles away, my mind still tethered to the events of the day before. My fingers traced the edges of the journal on my lap—a small, leather-bound book that once belonged to my mother. Her words were etched into the pages with a precision that mirrored her meticulous nature, but even now, they felt incomplete, hollow somehow.

I flipped to the next page, my eyes scanning the elegant cursive....

15th October 1984

I don't know how I should explain it, let alone how I should write it down. Melissa was supposed to meet me at the cafeteria today and I was wondering where she was or what she was doing. I asked a couple of my friends about her whereabouts and they all said the same thing: at Dr. Joham's classroom. And that class ended four hours ago. Taking their words, I headed to the classroom.

And that was one thing that I wished I didn't.

As I approached the door, I heard groaning and moaning and grunting. My heart raced, and I felt a chill run down my spine. I paused, unsure if I should knock or just leave. But my curiosity got the better of me. Slowly, I turned the doorknob and pushed the door open just a crack to peek inside.

What I saw left me speechless. There was Melissa, lying flat on the desk, and Dr. Joham on top of her.

I froze in shock, unable to process what I was witnessing. Melissa and Dr. Joham seemed completely absorbed in each other, their actions unmistakably intimate. I quickly pulled back and closed the door quietly, my mind racing with a mix of disbelief, confusion and a sinking feeling of betrayal.

I retreated down the hallway, feeling numb and unsure of what to do next. My thoughts were a jumble of questions and emotions. How long has this been going on? Was Melissa involved with Dr. Joham before? Did she hide this from me deliberately? The trust I felt for Melissa and the admiration I held for Dr. Joham's teaching were suddenly shattered.

Melissa. Baxter. The name now felt heavier, laden with implications I hadn't yet begun to process. A week had passed since we'd returned from Imperial College, since we'd stood before that cold, stark memorial and faced the ghost of a woman who might very well be my aunt—or at least, a blood relative I had never known existed.

Aunt Melissa.

The words were foreign on my tongue, and yet the connection was undeniable. I had spent hours scouring my mother's journals after our return, piecing together fragments of conversations, experiments, and vague references that hinted at a deeper relationship with Melissa than just friendship. And then there was the figure—the mysterious woman with the blonde hair, whose presence still lingered like a shadow in the back of my mind. Who was she, and what did she want from us? From me?

The room was silent save for the quiet scratch of my pen against the journal, the faint echo of the hummingbird's wings. I couldn't shake the feeling that this—everything that had happened over the past week—was leading to something, a convergence of past and present that would force me to confront not only my mother's legacy but also the secrets my father had kept from me.

"Violet?"

Ingram's voice cut through the quiet, startling me out of my thoughts. He stood in the doorway, his expression soft but tinged with concern. The light from the hallway outlined his silhouette, casting long shadows across the floor. His eyes, always so sharp and steady, held a question he wasn't ready to voice.

"Hey," I said, closing the journal and placing it on the side table. "Everything alright?"

He stepped into the room, his movements measured, as if he didn't want to disturb the stillness that lingered between us. "I was about to ask you the same thing. You've been quiet since we got back."

I sighed, rubbing my temple. "Just... thinking. About Melissa. About the woman at the memorial. About everything."

Ingram crossed the room in a few long strides and sat beside me on the edge of the bed. He reached out, his hand warm as it found mine, threading his fingers through mine. His touch was grounding, pulling me back from the storm of thoughts swirling in my mind.

"I get it," he said softly, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. "But you don't have to carry all of this alone. We're in this together, remember?"

I smiled, though it felt faint. "I know. It's just... I feel like there's something right in front of me, something I should be seeing, but I can't make sense of it yet."

"You will," Ingram said, his voice full of quiet confidence. "We will."

We sat in comfortable silence for a moment, the weight of our shared uncertainty hanging in the air like a question waiting to be answered. Outside, the fog was thick, clinging to the streets like a suffocating blanket, obscuring everything in its path. It felt symbolic—appropriate even. Everything was shrouded in mist now, including the truth about my family.

"I was thinking about something," I said, breaking the silence. Ingram turned his gaze to me, his brow furrowing slightly in curiosity. "About Valentine's Day."

"Valentine's Day?" He repeated the words slowly, as if they were foreign to him. "That's tomorrow, isn't it?"

"Yeah," I said, staring down at our hands. "I never really celebrate it, mostly because my dad wouldn't let me do so. Because why would a killer deserve that..."

Ingram's eyes softened, and he gave my hand a gentle squeeze. "You're not a killer, Violet. Not anymore."

His words hung in the air, but they did little to pierce the darkness that had settled deep within me. I pulled my hand away, standing abruptly and walking to the window. The hummingbird was gone, leaving only the fog in its place, pressing against the glass as if the outside world was trying to seep in, to drown me in its obscurity.

"I was," I said quietly, almost to myself. "Once. And no matter how much time passes, no matter how much I try to change, I can still feel it—like an echo inside me. A part of me that can never be undone."

Ingram was silent for a moment, his gaze following me as I stood at the window, watching the fog swirl outside. The weight of my words hung between us, heavy and undeniable. I wasn't looking for comfort or reassurance—I knew the truth of my past, and no amount of kind words could erase it.

"You were forced into a life you never chose," Ingram finally said, his voice steady but laced with an intensity that made me turn to face him. "And yeah, you did things. We all have. But that's not who you are now. You're not that person anymore, Violet. You're here, with me, with the family, trying to do the right thing."

I crossed my arms, hugging myself as I leaned against the cold glass.

"Trying isn't always enough," I whispered, my breath fogging up the window in front of me. The room felt smaller all of a sudden, the walls closing in as if the weight of my past was physically pressing down on me. The hummingbird's absence left an eerie stillness, mirroring the emptiness I couldn't quite shake.

I thought about my father's abuse all those years ago. Mainly when I was a child. The memory of my father's voice came unbidden, sharp and biting like the cold air outside. "You're the reason she's gone, Violet. Your mother would still be alive if it weren't for you." The words echoed through my mind, reverberating in the quiet room like a haunting refrain. I squeezed my arms tighter around myself, trying to hold together the pieces of me that were threatening to splinter apart.

I had been so young, so powerless when it happened. My mother, beautiful and fragile, had died because of me—or at least that's what my father had always told me. Over and over, his words became my truth. I had tried to block it out, to bury that part of myself deep down, but no matter how far I pushed it, the guilt always resurfaced.

I could feel the old wound tearing open again, bleeding into the present. The anger, the grief, the self-loathing—it was all coming back, and I didn't know how to stop it.

Behind me, I heard Ingram shift, his presence like a tether pulling me back to reality. "Violet?" His voice was soft but carried a weight that cut through the rising chaos in my mind.

Then, I could feel my purple aura rising beneath my skin, surging, twisting. My vision narrowed, and I could feel the primal hunger starting to wake. It was always there, lurking just beneath the surface, waiting for moments like this—when the pain became too much, when I felt like I was drowning in the weight of my past.

Ingram must have noticed the shift in my energy. I felt his arms around my waist, pulling me closer to his chest.

"Violet, listen to me," he said, his voice calm but firm. "Focus on my voice."

But the edges of my vision were already tinged with red. The world outside the window, once soft and foggy, now seemed jagged and harsh, like a broken mirror reflecting my own shattered self. My father's words echoed louder, spiraling in my mind. You're the reason she's gone. A killer. That's what you are.

"I don't deserve to be here," I whispered, more to myself than to Ingram.

Ingram tightened his hold on me, his breath warm against the back of my neck. "You do deserve to be here, Violet. More than anyone, you deserve to find peace and healing. But you have to believe it yourself."

His voice was steady, but there was an underlying urgency in his tone. I could feel the sharp edge of his concern, grounding me amidst the chaos that was threatening to consume me. The hunger within me was powerful, a raw, feral force that craved release, and it was amplified by the emotional storm I was in.

"Remember who you are now," Ingram continued, his hand stroking my back in slow, soothing circles. "You're not that child who was blamed for her mother's death. You're not the monster your father wanted you to be. You've changed. You've fought to be better, to be someone who does good. Don't let the past drag you back."

I could feel his words resonating deep within me, pushing back against the encroaching darkness. He was right, of course. I had spent years trying to escape my father's shadow, trying to prove that I was more than the guilt he had imposed on me. But in moments like this, when the past clawed its way to the surface, it was harder to hold onto that hope.

Ingram's arms were a lifeline, pulling me from the brink. "We're facing something together now," he said, his voice softening. "You're not alone in this. I'm here with you, and we'll get through it."

His touch was like a balm to my frayed nerves, and I felt the tension in my body start to ease. The purple haze began to recede, replaced by a clearer focus on the present.

"I'm sorry," I said, my voice cracking with emotion. "I didn't mean to let this... this part of me take over."

Ingram gently turned me to face him, his eyes filled with a mixture of concern and affection. "You don't need to apologize. We all have our struggles. It's how we handle them that matters."

He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead. "What about a hunt, huh?"

A distraction—a way to clear our heads and regain control. Sometimes the primal need for a hunt could be a powerful way to reconnect with our true selves, to remind ourselves of our strength and purpose.

I nodded, the idea of focusing on something tangible and immediate helping to pull me back from the edge. "Yeah," I agreed, taking a deep breath. "A hunt sounds good. It might help clear my mind."

Ingram's face softened into a reassuring smile. "Let's head out then. We'll take it slow, just enough to recalibrate."

He stood up, extending a hand to help me off the window sill. I took it, grateful for the grounding presence he offered. As we moved toward the door, the fog outside still pressed against the glass, but I felt a flicker of hope, a reminder that no matter how thick the mist, the world outside remained real and full of possibilities.

"You know, Ingram," I commended him, as we wandered through the foggy forest. "You're really getting the hand at this new diet."

Ingram chuckled, the sound reverberating softly through the trees. "You're not so bad yourself, flower."

We moved through the mist-shrouded forest, the underbrush rustling softly underfoot. The fog added a dreamlike quality to our surroundings, blurring the boundaries between reality and the ethereal. My senses were heightened, each sound and smell intensified by the hunt. The primal urge to feed, though still potent, was now tempered with a clearer focus, thanks to Ingram's presence.

The forest was alive with subtle movements: the scurry of a small creature, the distant call of a bird. I could feel the shift in the atmosphere, the subtle changes that signaled the presence of prey. My breathing slowed as I scanned the area, every instinct sharpened by the pursuit.

Ingram's grip on my hand tightened as we came to a small clearing. "Stay close," he murmured, his eyes scanning the area with practiced ease. "Sometimes, the most dangerous prey is the one you don't see coming."

I nodded, feeling a renewed sense of clarity. We moved silently through the forest, our footsteps nearly inaudible. The fog seemed to part for us as we advanced, the dense mist parting like a curtain to reveal the path ahead.

Suddenly, Ingram's head snapped toward a rustling noise. I followed his gaze, focusing on the source of the disturbance. A deer, unaware of our presence, grazed peacefully. My pulse quickened in anticipation, and I could sense Ingram's excitement too. This was what we needed—a moment of focus and purpose, a chance to connect with our nature without the weight of our past bearing down on us.

Ingram motioned for me to follow as he crept closer to the deer. I mirrored his movements, my senses attuned to every sound and scent around us. The hunt was a dance, a symphony of instincts and precision.

As we closed in, Ingram's eyes met mine, and he gave a small nod. We moved in unison, our movements synchronized as we prepared to make our approach. The deer was oblivious to the danger, its head lowered as it fed.

In one fluid motion, Ingram lunged forward, and I followed suit. The deer's eyes widened in shock, but it was too late. Ingram's bite was swift and efficient, and I joined him, my own hunger finding release in the rush of the hunt.

The taste of blood was both exhilarating and grounding, a reminder of our nature and our strength. As the deer's life ebbed away, I felt the primal satisfaction of the hunt, the raw connection to the wildness within us.

Ingram pulled away first, his eyes meeting mine with a mixture of triumph and tenderness. "How do you feel?"

I wiped a smear of blood from my lips, a genuine smile spreading across my face. "Better. Clearer."

He smiled back, his expression softening. "Good."

"Good job with your hunting too," I commented, placing my hand on his shoulder. "I mean, you're doing really well with the dieting."

Out of nowhere, I felt a jolt as my back met a solid tree, and Ingram stood above me, his lithe arms encircling my waist. Looking up at him, his eyes the colour of amber and no longer the deep crimson I saw the first time, I couldn't help but see a sense of calmness in them. Leaning back and crossing my arms in front of my chest, I savoured the moment.

Ingram's eyes softened as he looked down at me, a gentle smile tugging at his lips. The warmth in his gaze contrasted sharply with the cool mist of the forest surrounding us. The quiet connection between us, forged in the heat of the hunt, was palpable and comforting. His lips curved into a mischievous smile as he whispered, "I may have controlled myself, but I can't resist the temptation of you."

I couldn't deny the attraction between us, the undeniable chemistry that crackled in the air whenever we were together. Then, Ingram leaned his head away from me.

"Am I offending you, Violet?" he inquired, and I traced my fingers along the back of his neck. He let out a sharp gasp, and I couldn't help but let out a playful laugh.

"You're going to be the end of me," he exclaimed.

"How ironic," I retorted, tugging on his dark hair. "We're already dead."

Ingram's laughter was a warm, resonant sound that seemed to blend seamlessly with the gentle rustle of the forest around us. For a moment, the weight of my past, the fog of confusion and guilt, seemed to dissipate, replaced by the pure, exhilarating rush of being alive in this moment. I felt more connected to him than ever before—our shared experiences, the hunt, and now, this playful banter had created a bond that was both powerful and comforting.

Ingram's fingers traced lightly along my arm, his touch sending a shiver down my spine. With a firm hold, I pulled on his hair, bringing him closer to me. Closing my eyes, I pressed my lips against his, a hunger that could not be quenched. The intensity of our kiss grew, our bodies gravitating towards each other as if drawn by an invisible force. Ingram's hands found their way to my waist, pulling me impossibly closer to him.

The kiss deepened, the world around us fading into the background as our focus narrowed to the shared intimacy between us. The cool, misty air of the forest contrasted sharply with the warmth that radiated from our touch. Each sensation was amplified—our breaths mingling, the softness of his lips, the firm grip of his hands.

As we finally pulled apart, our breaths ragged and hearts pounding, the reality of our surroundings began to seep back in. The forest, once a backdrop to our connection, now felt like a witness to our shared vulnerability and passion. Ingram's eyes held a mix of admiration and affection, his fingers gently brushing a stray lock of hair from my face.

"I don't think I'll ever get tired of that," he murmured, his voice low and filled with warmth.

I smiled, feeling a renewed sense of clarity and comfort. The hunt had been grounding, a reminder of our true selves, and this moment with Ingram had brought a different kind of solace. It was as if the weight of our pasts, the fog of confusion, and the guilt that had once plagued me were momentarily lifted, replaced by a simple, undeniable truth: I was here, with him, and I was allowed to find happiness.

"I feel like I can breathe again," I said softly, leaning into his embrace.

Ingram's smile widened, and he pressed a tender kiss to my forehead. "We've faced a lot, Violet. But as long as we have each other, we can face anything."

We stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, the forest around us continuing its quiet, misty dance. The hunt had provided a moment of release, and now, the connection between us offered a different kind of solace—a reminder that even in the darkest moments, there was light to be found in companionship and love.

As we eventually turned to leave the clearing, the fog seemed to lift just slightly, as if the forest itself was acknowledging the shift in our spirits. Hand in hand, we walked back through the misty woods, each step a reminder of the journey we were on together.

[joham-fate]

Joseph - "The only person Graham cares about is himself."

Megan - "...He cares about you and you know it."

Joseph - "Maybe I believed that once, but not after all of this."

Okay, I'm back with more straw clutching theories.

I'm pretty much working off of Joe's use of words here, but please bear with me.

In response to Megan telling him that he knows Graham cares about him, Joe says, "...not after all of this." The word I'm particularly looking at here is, "all".

Doesn't sound much upon first glance, I guess. But wouldn't it have made more sense had Joe said, "Not after this." ?

After all, isn't he referring to the alcohol induced beating Graham gave him? A singular event.

Makes me wonder then, why the writers chose to have Joe say, "...not after ALL OF this."

It appears as though Joe is making a reference something more than what had just happened.

It got me thinking then, that what if Joe isn't just talking about The Incident, but rather their relationship? About how they have been through-out everything that has happened this past year or so?

I can't help but wonder if Joe is just as confused about where they stand, as we are. Graham does give a LOT of mixed signals. In particular in regard to Joe's relationship with Debbie. One minute he's telling Joe that he's in love with her etc, and that they could be happy together, and in the next breath, he's all, "This isn't love. You don't know what love is." etc.

Then there is all the suggestive comments Graham makes...

"I think you look very fetching in Lycra." (Sorry, I'm still not over this.)

"A long dark night all alone, enjoy it Joe."

"I'll show you how weak I am." (The way he says it. 😮)

Is it any wonder that Joe doesn't know whether he is coming or going?

So, back to my original point, when Joe says, "Maybe I once believed that, but not after all of this."

He isn't talking about the violence as such. He's talking about the complex nature of their relationship.

Like I said, clutching at straws, but this really caught my attention, and I can't shake the feeling that there is subtext here.

[thecocklesofmyheart-jxm]

Too Close (1/3)

Summary: During the filming of the fifth season of "Supernatural", Jensen and Misha's friendship deepened. But is it just friendship or is there more to it?

(Keep in mind this is just fiction, it's written with nothing but respect for Jensen, Misha, Vicki and Danneel)

--------------

They were close, too close. It was a damn shame the set was crowded most of the time, and the fact that he just decided to propose to Danneel when all of this new feelings bloomed for his coworker.

But now, they were alone. ALONE alone.

Jared was shooting in a different location this particular episode, and having this small time for themselves made things especially awkward. At least for him. I mean, why would it be awkward? They're Friends, and nothing else.

Were they?

Fuck, it's hard to pinpoint the exact moment when this changed for him.

Misha looked relaxed enough to be spread on the couch, sipping his herbal tea still on his Castiel’s white shirt and suit pants. His tie hanging loosely on his neck.

That upset him so much.

He wanted to pull him from the blue cloth and just tight the knot around his fleshy neck. At least he could do it a couple of months back, because it was scripted.

"When people want something really bad, we lie" Trying to focus on his lines while having Mish that close was getting harder and harder. And of fucking course Dean Winchester was right. He really wanted Misha, but he needed to lie about it, every day a little bit more.

And it wasn't easy because those damn writers, they insist and insist on the eye fuck.

Maybe it’s time to focus on his fianceé to-be

“Hey Mish, how do you manage to keep your marriage alive after all these years?” He asked, leaning back on the couch, forcing himself to relax.

Misha downed the rest of his beverage and sighed.  Seven uninterrupted work hours could tire anyone.

He sighed “Victoria is amazing… and to be honest, I just try to keep up with her, you know?” He explained, his gaze moving to his friend's “And well… we don’t have the most conventional marriage, either, It's weird” He shrugged and Jensen followed the movement of his shirt tightening around his shoulders. He had all of that hidden, huh?

"Weird, how?" Jensen wondered, truly curious. I mean, what is weird to Misha Collins' parameters?

He cleared his throat, looking at his feet "Well, I don't talk about it because I don't like when people think that I brag about it" He started, and scratched his Castiel's ruffled hair "But Vicki and I believe in free love, the two of us are free to do whatever, or whoever we want..." he smiled, cocking an eyebrow for the pun to be an understatement "... as long as we're both happy and honest about it" He shrugged.

Jensen frowned, confused "Really? are you okay with your woman to be with someone else?"

Mish shot a tired smile, like he was used to have this conversation "She's not my woman, Jensen, She's the person I love, and she's an individual, free to be happy the way she chooses to be…and sometimes with multiple partners" He blurted out, the swallowed hard "and it's not like I haven't had my fair share of sleep arounds since we got together… besides, our life style improves our communication, how honest we are with each other and we don't have to pretend or lie about anything…"

Jensen was speechless, his jealous nature could never allow to share, specially if his partner is Misha.

The dark haired man laughed softly “What? What’s your doubt?” He asked, sitting straighter and moving a little bit closer to his friend.

Jensen eyed him, and looked back a little bit awkward “Nothing ’s just… I could never share you”

Misha’s eyebrows went up and his smile fell a little “Me?” He bit his lip, amused.

The green eyed man blushed in a deep tone of red “I didn’t- I didn’t meant You, I meant her, or… whatever, you know what I mean” He said, self consciously deepening his voice.

Misha smiled again and decided to tease him to death. He stretched his arms back and his shirt sticked to his body, knowing Jensen was looking at him “You know? Me and Vicki used to have a girlfriend” He said, relaxing again on the couch, this time closer to him.

Jensen was hooked. He swallowed hard “Both of you?”

Mish nodded “Yeah, we were great, the three of us together… It wasn't just the sex, you know? We loved each other…. until, well, it wasn't so great anymore, but it was, I don't know... okay, I guess…" He shrugged "It's like any other relationship… and Vicki’s with someone else now” He explained.

“Another dude?” He asked, moving his eyes to Mish’s lips.

“A woman” Misha said with a smile “She’s never been much of a man’s lady” He smiled.

Jensen breathed out a laugh, trying to change the serious tone of the conversation “Well… that explains why she’s with you” He teased, wiggling his eyebrows

Misha's laugh wrinkled his nose “Oh, definitely, you should’ve seen me when I was seventeen” He smiled “Long, blonde hair, no beard… not even stubble! I was such a pubescent kid, all full with pimples”

Jensen smirked crookedly “My teen years weren’t too different to yours, Mish”

He shrugged “At least you were hot” He teased.

“You are hot now” Jensen blurted out and regretted it.

Misha looked at him in the eyes, growing serious, moving his eyes to his lips “You think I’m hot, Jackles?”

Jensen swallowed hard, and eye-fucked him, just like he does in front of the camera “You are” He whispered softly.

Misha let out a soft breath and moved his head closer to him, slowly, determined “Am I?” He repeated, blue eyes fixated on his lips.

Jensen felt his breath on his opened mouth, and his heart lose control.

“Yeah” He whispered, next to Misha’s lips. This was everything that he wanted for months and was trying so hard not to admit.

An inch closer and their lips would be touching. Just an inch.

The aura of nervousness and warmness surrounded them, this is it. They were about to kiss. He'll kiss the ridiculously hotness off of Misha.

Suddenly a loud knock on the trailer’s door pull them out of their dream. Jensen closed his eyes tight and breathed out a curse.

Misha stood up without looking at him “I-  uhm… I will be in make up” He said, and grabbed Castiel’s trenchcoat from the back of the couch before crossing the door.

Jensen pushed his fingers on his eyes. Fuck. He sighed and took courage to go out there, to endure three or so hours of intense eye fuck.

He needed to be stronger… what the fuck just happened? It could never happen again...

...Right?

--------------

Tagging: @xsghn @angelica128 @savannadarkbaby @staycejo1 @inexhaustablesourceofmagic @angelneedshunter @joham-fate @tachibanaloki @ariston77 @sunshineandwings86 @agusvedder @verobatto-angelxhunter @michyribeiro @seraphmysk

(Let me know if you wanna be tagged)

[joham-fate]

Pretty please.

alright i’m here for the second ep i hope joe is here to give graham a hug

[volturialice]

all RIGHTY then!! who’s ready to kill some darlings

warnings for uh major character death, suicide, vague allusions to rape

ii. the only chance she could see

He answers on the first ring. “Hello?”

“Edward?”

“Alice! Where are you?”

“Are you alone?”

“Yes, I’m—Alice, what’s going on? The others are all out looking for you.”

“They’re coming for me, Edward. We knew it would happen eventually.”

On the other end of the line, aghast silence. “The Volturi.” When she doesn’t correct him, he continues, voice rising in panicked irritation. “What happened? Why didn’t you see the decision sooner?”

“They’re using a proxy. They sent Joham’s daughters—the hybrids.” She swallows. “I’m blind.”

“Where are you? We won’t need your visions—there are only three of them. We have the numbers, Alice.”

A weariness begins to seep into Alice’s bones, born of being on the run for the last six days, alone, waiting for the blank, white expanse of the future to catch up with her.

“If we fight them off, the Volturi will just make more hybrids, Edward. Think about it. Is that what you want?”

She lets the horrific implication echo between them.

“Where are you?” demands Edward again, voice lower, more threatening.

“Sooner or later they’ll catch up to me,” says Alice gently. “I can’t evade them forever.”

“We’ll think of something. Come home, Alice. We can come up with a plan.”

Alice ignores him. “I can’t see what they’ll do next,” she warns, speaking faster. “There isn’t much time. But they’ll probably come for you and Bella next, and maybe Benjamin. You have to warn Amun.”

“We will—of course we will. But Alice, you have to come home first,” Edward pleads. His focus wavers. “Wait—what’s that sound?”

Alice finishes pouring the gasoline, sets the can down. “Tell everyone how much I love them,” she orders. “And Jasper—you have to promise me you’ll take care of him.” It hurts to say Jasper’s name aloud, knowing what she’s about to do. A fierce ache flares in her chest at the thought of him out there somewhere, desperately searching for her.

“Alice.” Edward’s voice is dangerous. “What are you doing?”

Removing myself from the equation. Keeping my power out of Aro’s hands.

A detached sort of calm steals over Alice, and it’s almost as if Jasper is there, supplying her strength, keeping her going through what she has to do. “It’s the only thing that will work,” she says.

“No,” snarls Edward. “Alice, stop! Let’s talk about this! We’ll find another solution!”

There’s a sound from outside, a quarter mile up the road. Three sets of feet, not quite silent enough to escape detection by Alice’s heightened senses. Three faint, thrumming heartbeats.

“You don’t understand, Edward,” says Alice. “They’re here.”

She can picture Edward’s horrified expression, golden eyes wide and frantic as he struggles not to crush the phone. She wishes she had the time to tell him what a good brother he’s been, how much she’s valued his company for the last seven decades—her teammate, always in her corner. She’s so lucky to have found him, so lucky to have found them all. She tries to push all the emotion into her words: “I love you. I love you all.”

“Don’t do this, Alice!” bellows Edward, nearly drowning out the sound of the approaching feet—they aren’t bothering to hide now. Alice opens the door.

“Alice! Alice!”

But she doesn’t hear Edward’s voice calling her name, or see Joham’s three daughters launch their attack. Her eyes are closed.

She fixes an image of Jasper in her mind, and lights a match.

 (Ok obviously if vampire suicide were possible through self-immolation then eddie boy would have done that in new moon but just bear with me for the sake of Drama here folks. is she really dead or did she just fake it to trick the volturi? you decide!!)

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

How do you think Rosalie feels about the Delani?

How do you think Rosalie feels about the Delani?

Did tumblr just eat your ask font? Really? Well, I copied it. Jesus, tumblr.

Some thoughts on the Cullens and the Denali.

The short answer is we don't really know. Edward seems fond of them and implies the family is quite fond of them, but whether this is true or not, well, @therealvinelle and I have headcanoned the Denali into being horrific people, remember this is not the normal canon, it's the heresy.

For most of fandom the Denali are stellar friends of the Cullens and wonderful people.

Who once actively pursued genocide.

But never mind that.

My guess? Rosalie likes them well enough.

Like Edward and fandom in general, she doesn't think on their actions too closely. These are the only other vampires they know of who follow the diet and spare human life. That they take human lovers just makes them frisky and sexually liberated, Rosalie's not into that but you do you.

That these men are very likely rape victims and are not fully consenting is I think something Rosalie would never realize. Rape, to her, is Royce in an alleyway. It is an undeniable, horrific, bloody event that is pure evil. It is not a subtle, insidious, implication of unspoken threats.

Remember that Rosalie did not recognize the flags in Edward's relationship with Bella either. Even when Bella was terrified that Edward would forcibly abort her and she called Rosalie in terror and need of protection.

And before you blame her or look down on her remember that @therealvinelle and I have gotten multiple asks on this blog asking why we think JOHAM is a rapist. This is not obvious.

I imagine the majority of the Cullens, like fandom, look at the Denali and think that even if the men don't truly love the sisters and are just looking for a good time that they are consenting/don't realize the women are vampires.

It just never occurs to them that this is what's even happening.

[therealvinelle]

This has been on my mind a lot recently and I don’t believe you’d answered this yet. Can hybrids have kids of their own? Surely one of Joham’s daughters had their period at some point so that might equate to them being able to have a baby. (Also I know being able to get a period doesn’t mean you can have kids)

I’m saving the thorough answer for a longer post on hybrids, but I can answer this much.

There exist male and female hybrids, and they grow until they reach sexual maturity. This alone means it’s a species that reproduce, or at least I can’t imagine another explanation for why male and female gonads would exist for hybrids.

Whether or not they have periods is irrelevant. Human women experience our periods the way we do because our reproductive systems function in a very specific way where our uterus sheds its lining once a month. This is not universal to mammals. Dogs, for instance, coincide ovulating with periods, but bleed anyway. Cats don’t bleed at all, they just get really horny and scream for two weeks.

If female hybrids have reproductive cycles (and that’s assuming they have cycles), they might not be like female human reproductive cycles, in fact I don’t see why they should be. Why, for instance, should immortal creatures have a limited amount of eggs?

There’s no point in me speculating on this when I have nothing from canon to go on, and don’t know all that about menstrual cycles, so I’ll just conclude this with yes, I think hybrids can reproduce, and who knows about the periods.