Julián Carax is my Spirit Animal

I won't lie, I feel like I've dragged my feet while making this because I was anxious and sad at first. I literally opened this blog to give myself a place to cry over all this without getting teased... because I was just genuinely so disappointed… 

I was really excited for Valko the moment his teaser dropped. And even more so when they released his trailer pv. I can’t praise the lore for this game enough, and the delicious character writing in general - so I was looking forward to seeing how he fits into the narrative. Especially since he is Rafayel's foil. I have so many thoughts and theories... and the trailer did NOT help with that. (I could rant on and on about the possibilities within this man for hours.) I wanted to see if any of my brainworms held up to the actual story... only for the cancellation letter to drop suddenly.

Though now with more context coming out, on top of everyone's efforts, this feels more like a "when he's back," than a "if he's back," so I feel more sane, lol.

But still... Watching all this unfold has been an experience. I can only hope the outcome is that Infold/Papergame's higher-ups start conducting themselves properly. If not for better QOL for players, then to not have a boil up like this ever again. Because this situation was totally avoidable. They should have never been pushed to put all their dev team's work on the line like this. so they have their own incompetency and greed to blame for that- I should probably shut up before I make myself annoyed again, lol. ANYWAYS.

As someone who observes from a distance, it's really nice seeing everyone working together right now. This space can be so hectic and draining sometimes. So it's really heartwarming seeing a community in action. - I want to offer more support, so I'll try dragging myself out of my creative drought to keep KoKo alive <3

I really wanna write something for him, but I literally can't think of anything good at the moment, despite having no other thought outside of Valko T_T

[i haven't read this chapter since i posted it lmao OOP-]

Edward had threaded one hand through my hair and was mindlessly curling strands around his finger, sweeping them off my shoulder, bringing them to his lips. My nails traced mindless patterns on his other hand wrapped around my waist.

The intimacy and burn of his fingers on my skin made me remember with striking emotion how much I missed him touching me, how starved I was.

We breathed in unison [ok but fr breathing in unison w/ ur partner is relaxing as fuck]. Every other moment, a faint static would pulse down my body. At first, I thought it was him flinching, but it was rhythmic and soft. Like was responding to me. Like our bodies were syncing up. In a good way.

[it's wild how many hints i dropped about the mating bond. i was resolved to put it in the fic because it was an unexplored part of smeyer's lore & an interesting creative challenge (much like imprinting, although that's more about fixing mistakes than fleshing out a concept). but i didn't have the mechanics of mating hammered out at all. details like this are fun to come back to because they ended up fitting perfectly.]

I sighed. “I wish it could be like this all the time.”

He caught my hand in his and brought the back of it to his lips.

“Em’s obsessed with carbon-neutral cabins now,” said Edward. “I should ask him to build us one.” [something something By Starlight Chapter 9: Envoy]

I could practically hear the smile on him.

Usually, I would balk and respond along the lines of No way, Jose.

Cactus Bella would’ve, anyway. [Cactus Bella should have come back]

“That’d be nice,” I said. Edward hmm’d in response, just as surprised by my reaction as I was. “We could watch the sunset every night. It’d have to have a tiny art studio, though. With a view.” [this would be in the attic]

“Yes. Art studio in the attic [HEY!!!!], recording studio in the basement.”

“And a library.” [i picture them having a tiny cabin with a loft, lots of plants, artwork, cozy chairs, one of those little roller ladders for their library, & tons of windows that overlook the forest below. i'm projecting my own desires btw]

“The rest of the house is a library. Every room has at least one floor-to-ceiling bookshelf.” [get you a fanfic Edward Cullen who says "YES, AND"!!!]

“And we could decorate and hang up pictures. And we’d never pay rent.” [i can't imagine how much Bella hates dealing with landlords. from her describing her experiences delivering Renee's late rent to telling Phil to pay rent early to "get the landlord off Renee's back" to her doing DIY plumbing repairs, it feels like she does everything in her power to avoid getting a landlord in her hair. honestly, mood.]

“And I would make tea for you every morning and dinner for you every night. We would stay there for weeks at a time.”

“Months.”

“Years.”

“Forever.”

“Forever,” he echoed. It sounded off.

The sun dropped into the horizon.

“Twilight, again,” I remembered him saying at prom. “No matter how perfect the day is, it always has to end….”

[so interesting, this shift we see in Edward by the end of Come Nightfall/beginning of By Starlight. in ITA he insists there is an end to all things (especially the self). contrast this with BS Chapter 1: Ultimatum where he insists Bella isn't terminal. he's able to rationalize that he can't keep Bella, but the more he falls in love with her, the less he wants to stand by his assertion that there is an end to all things...]

At prom, it had sounded romantic.

Here, it haunted me.

We didn’t speak. Only dying birdsongs and classical music filled the silence.

Before he could wallow in his forever comment, I asked, “So what's on the menu for tonight?” gesturing with my head to the tiny stereo. “Wagner, to celebrate my being done reading that freak Nietzsche?” [i was reading The Gay Science at the time. sadly, the book does not cover homosexuality]

“Hah hah. As if this was remotely Wagnerian.” For a moment he tensed underneath me; his faltering chuckle returned. “I was wondering when you’d say something. What do you think?”

It was the smoothest-sounding music I’d ever heard—that’s what I thought. Every note was correct and on key and on beat and every instrument played with exact preciseness. It felt more like the whole song was just one fluid, resonating harmonic note to the next. A dream. A fantasy.

[in the early stages of drafting these fics, i list bullet points of things that i think would be cool to write. at the climax of New Moon, instead of exposing himself to humans, i thought it'd be fun if Edward had turned Bella's lullaby into an anti-Volturi operatic work that he would play throughout Volterra on St Marcus' Day. not all ideas are good ideas]

What set it apart were the colors. They jumped off the track. Purples and orangey-yellows, mostly, but the piano sounded like the greenest grass Forks had ever grown. [Bella has chromesthesia. light spoilers?, this comes back later]

“Unedited thoughts only,” he warned me.

“You know what it reminds me of?” I said, patting his knee. “Debussy. With a little Emile Pandolfi zhuzh to it. Or like if Rachmaninov woke up one day and decided to write something a little more understated.”

“Classical influences with modern touches.”

“Exactly.”

“Dramatic?”

“In good way. Y’know? Not so cloying and loud.”

“Calmer.”

“Yeah. Less struggle. If that makes sense.”

“Interesting.” He tried keeping an even face but his eyes lit up. He nuzzled his face into my collar. “But the real question: do you like it?”

“Hell yeah. That’s my biased opinion. You know I like your recs.”

“Except Bobby Vinton.” [deleted a whole scene about Bella and Edward arguing over how much Bobby Vinton sucks, so this was my compromise]

“Fifties trash,” I said with a dismissive shrug, “what can you say?” [SO true bestie]

“I’d say your taste in men is better than your taste in music, and that’s not saying much.” [HEY!]

His voice was jovial—and false.

—No, not false.

Shaken with a sheepish nervousness. Embarrassment?

I laid back against his chest. Puzzle pieces assembled in my head, so loud and clear I would assume he could hear me coming to my conclusions.

Edward was nervous.

All night, he’d been nervous.

The good kind of nervous.

“Okay,” I said. “I’ll bite. Tell me.”

Laying against him, I could feel excitement coursing through him.

“Hm?”

“There’s a speech you’re not telling me,” I said. Edward broke into a smile but looked down so I wouldn’t see it. The anticipation he carried with him felt like live wires on my skin. “You’re dying to say it. Mhm. Something overwrought. Or some super nerdy, esoteric lecture, I bet. Yeah. The blues speech. The classical music. There’s a theme going on here.” He laughed. “Tell me. Who’s this dead guy and why do I care?” [this Eleanor Shellstrop-ass line]

“The tongue on you.” His lips kissed my temple, tickled the shell of my ear when he spoke. “That dead guy is me, thank you very much.”

“Huh?” I whipped around to face him with an open-mouthed smile. “No way.”

“Yes, way. Wrote and performed.”

“This? Really? You wrote this? Really?” As I talked, I moved to straddle him, my hands on his shoulders, the side of his neck. Brassy golds and jewel-toned purples swirled through the music drifting between us. “That’s so cool!”

This, like everything else about Edward, seemed otherworldly in its grace and beauty. It felt like listening to the future of music—refined to an even higher degree of perfection.

Of course this was his.

“Is it so hard to believe?”

Now my hands played nervously with the locks of his hair that sat at the nape of his neck. “No, it’s just, you said you hadn't written anything since the 70s, and the colors are just—I mean it’s perfect, so I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, but, just—wow." [Edward likely doesn't know she has synesthesia, considering how much of herself she's hidden from him pre-breakup.]

"Eloquent as always."

"This is amazing work. Wow!” It felt like I radiated so much joy, my cheeks burned. “Congratulations, oh my god. It’s great. It’s brilliant. I take back all the ‘dead guy, don’t care’ stuff. Lecture me up.”

“You assume I have more to say?”

I snickered, raking my hand through his hair and pulling on it. He purred. “Six words? You? Please,” I said, and he laughed. “What d’you got for me? Historical context? Music theory? Behind-the-scenes anecdote? You gotta unedit, y’know.” [it's crazy to go back to these earlier scenes and hear this Bella talk. there's such a stark difference imo between pre- & post-breakup Bella. in By Starlight, she's sounds more mature, somber, careful with her words, closer to canon. i can def see why readers abandon these works lmao]

Getting Edward to share any of his compositions had been, up until now, impossible. He had informed me several times he hadn’t written anything since the 1970s. Any time I’d ask, he’d just come up with some medley of songs by others, or he’d improvise.

“It’s a lullaby.” Beat. “Your lullaby.” Another beat. “I wrote it for you.”

I blinked. Stilled.

“For me?” My hand fell back to his chest, leaving his hair a wild, sculpted mess. Edward watched my face fall and eyes drift toward the speaker; his brows knit. “A lullaby? For me?”

Edward laughed, nervous, and pressed a button on the stereo.

"Happy birthday," he murmured to me.

Instruments jumped into that first note, springing to life with a harmonized breathlessness that reminded me of sky blue, lavender, spots of gold, and brown. An overwhelming, bright, vibrant first measure calmed into a languid, inquisitive piano.

Oftentimes, a song would have competing colors, for better or for worse. Anything I wanted to paint would require several relistenings and a full-on moodboard before the oil would ever hit the canvas.

Art supplies were expensive—you had to be sure of your vision.

But this. This was gorgeous. Like it had been written with the intention of being ready for the canvas.

For me.

“It’s been in my mind for a while now. At first, they were just bits of melodies you’ve given me from our time together. The happy, sunny times.”

“Like a tapestry of little memories?” I joked, voice thick with emotion.

“In the middle of the night, if you start tossing, I hum it to you. I think you like it. It calms you down.” He grinned. “You stop trying to kick me, anyway.”

“Which memories did you use?”

“G-minor, when you first spoke to me—that was the first measure. The first night I stayed over. Picking wild blackberries for you on the way to the meadow. [i've always thought this Edward had some crow-ass behavior going on. like he'll just show up at Bella's window with a handful of berries or a shiny pebble or a tiny flower and be like, "i come bearing gifts (caw)"] And— Do you remember the second time we took the truck to that forest a couple miles north of Goat Rocks?” I frowned. “In July? We played Nickel Nock in the truckbed? You were asking about the—"

“Fireflies,” we finished in unison. I laughed. “Duh!” I told him it’d been the first time I’d seen one in person. Edward turned off the lamp and caught one for me in his hands just so I could see it up close. I smiled wide. “The little chimes in background [WINDCHIMES BAYBEEE]. Is that them? The fireflies?”

“Perceptive.”

Tears threatened to spill over; I wiped one away from the corner with my thumb.

“Did Marie see into the past, too?” said Phil.

“She read palms,” I mumbled.

“Past,” said Renée, pointing at me, “present,” she continued, pointing at herself, “and…” finally, she pointed to the sky “…future.” [this line is SO freaky to me. past implies a terminus, & Bells is terminal. the future, like Nona, is dead (& Renee points up, implying ascension). only the present - Renee - remains. like, holy shit Renee, do you have any idea how fucking symbolic you're being rn???]

By this point, Edward had gone quiet. [because Edward DOES realize how fucking symbolic she's being rn]

I added, “Mom, don’t you remember the way she would grab your hand and read your palm?”

He could keep wading through her memories, and I could get off the subject of my “psychic talents.” Win-win.

“God! Let me tell you how embarrassing it is to have all your friends’ deaths predicted by your mother whenever they came over.” She and Phil laughed; I chuckled weakly. Edward had no reaction. [this subject is discussed later, so maybe light spoilers? Edward can go deeper into someone's mind, but it requires more attention and energy. he is not well-trained in his new abilities. right now he's seeing Renee's memories: orange shag carpeting, birthday hats, children laughing, Renee whining to her mother...] “She made the freakiest predictions sometimes. Uncanny.”

“What did she say about you?” said Phil.

“All kinds of things. Let’s see. She predicted my little girl.” Renée threw me a loving glance. “She also said I would have a boy later in life, though—hm. I suppose that could be David. She said Bella would reunite with long lost family— I’m sure that was Charlie. And what else? —Ooh! That I would die an old, old lady.” [no comment]

“Not to throw kerosene on the fire, babe,” said Phil with a growing grin, “but that’s pretty vague.”

“Oh, no! She was very specific. Death was her specialty. Her mother— my Nona Cynthia, Bella’s great-grandmother— she was the same way. Nona Cynthia used to run a little business with two friends when she was growing up— all the neighborhood kids would pay a cent to be read by The Psychics Three.” Renée laughed. [no comment]

“So intuition runs in the family,” said Edward. His voice was scratchy. [i've been wanting to do this "Edward stays out too long in the sun" scene for years. i initially pictured this as the day E&B get back together. i wanted them to be best friends (albeit with unbearable sexual tension). this lunch happens at a restaurant. when Bells would go off to find him, they'd meet in an empty hallway and get it on the janitorial closet or the pantry or sth. not all ideas are good ideas.] I gave him a look he didn’t return.

She gave me a knowing look. “Honey, you remember—after a while, I had to tell Nona Marie to stop reading your palm. Oh, she was just awful about the whole thing. Every time she would visit—”

We finished in unison: “Bella, your lifeline has run out.”

Edward looked up.

“Had it?” he said.

My mother and I had both been taken aback by the question.

“Well, of course not,” said Renée quietly with a nervous chuckle. Her hands fidgeted, nails picking at skin. [she knows how accurate her mother is. she's seen it firsthand. so for Nona Marie to INSIST that Bells would drown EVEN AFTER that incident at Charlie's makes Renee wonder if it'll happen. it's been years, and she's "convinced" herself Bella will live a full, happy life, but she'll never be able to shake the specifics of Marie's prediction (details she's never told Bella), & her insistence that Bella's time is coming very soon.]

Edward didn’t need more information. He could see the memory clear as a mountain spring. [that is, Renee getting the call from Charlie that Bella is in the hospital and Caitlin has gone missing.]

“Nona said I would drown,” I explained in a murmur.

Edward swallowed.

***

what made Edward go so quiet? [although he is a more powerful telepath, slipping into people's minds requires more energy & is harder to control. he's trying to focus & find what he needs to find. i talk about this more in depth in future chaps]

what is Renee thinking that has him so on edge and tense? [reliving the memories]

and with Renee’s total 360 on her thoughts about Edward… was this when she realized he had this “darkness”?

regarding Renee's about-face:

i intentionally set this and the next scene up to be ambiguous. we never actually know how Renee feels about Edward specifically. we do know Renee is worried for Bella. but we only hear about Edward & Renee's interactions through Bells who has proven to be an unreliable narrator. we also hear about Renee's opinion of Edward through Charlie who is at best is paraphrasing & at worst lying to suit his own agenda. Edward never tells Bells whatever it is he may or not may not have read in Renee's mind. is it a 180? i think that's something the readers should decide for themselves based on their perception of the characters :)

i will say, Renee seems to be a worrier. when she's in the middle of an adventure or new experience, she can quiet her mind & go with the flow - it's why she's so impulsive & reckless. here, grief is a constant source of background tension for her as her mother's funeral takes place, while having Bells home blinds her to pretty much everything else. not as to say she didn't notice. she is clearly concerned for Bella to some extent. but i think she had a lot going on around her & needed to reflect on the visit to grow so concerned she calls Charlie.

“Hm. What a shame. Though I do understand the particular challenges one faces with telepathy. I am not surprised to hear of your intra- and interpersonal struggles. Especially when one’s power has increased exponentially in such a short span. What, do you suppose, was its catalyst?”

Edward’s eyelids fell closed again.

A smile spread across Aro’s face. Even Edward’s lips turned up at whatever he was showing him. [i picture him telling the story of his and Bella's relationship through images. driving to the meadow. her hair in the sunlight. laughing. a trip to the record store. eating peaches. arguing over playlists. etc.

eventually, of course, his mind settles on The Event. i.e., the bite (every detail: the taste & mouthfeel of her blood, the memories they shared (i pictured Bella seeing Edward in a speakeasy early 1920s), her screams), Edward's feelings (guilt, fear, disappointment in himself...pleasure?), the aftermath (being completely out of his mind, hauled away by his family to keep him from her), etc.]

“Ah.” When his eyelids fluttered open again, I’d noticed they’d gone completely gray. “Oh. My, yes. I can see why such a mouthwatering morsel can feel so life changing.”

Edward ripped his hand away [he's hearing & seeing Aro's thirst]; the guard tensed. Aro, however, seemed unperturbed. The gray drained away from his irises, though that unusual milky film remained. Beyond that, the glitter in his eyes made him seem starstruck. He blinked and shook his head as if recovering from a daze. [i picture Aro seeing a bird's eye view of memories. he sees every second of someone's life. granted, he's trained well enough to be able to explore the thoughts he wants to, but i imagine he doesn't get the sheer amount of detail that Edward might. (i go into Edward's gift in later chaps.) i think that this, in combination with the fact that Edward can read every mind in a ~3-mile radius, is very appealing to Aro.]

“Your talent warps the mind. How you endure your life day-to-day still confounds me, dear boy.”

“It’s not without effort,” said Edward as if remarking on the weather. [ripped this line from the books. love it]

“Is the exhibition quite finished?” said Caius with a touch of resentment. [he is SO bitchy. love him] “It is time to pass our sentence.”

“Gentlemen,” Aro said, turning to his brothers with a beaming smile, “I beg you, before we deliberate, a moment of your time. I believe we have encountered an impossibly rare phenomenon for which I desire your council. It seems young Edward has reason for his relations with Isabella apart from the aforementioned.” Caius narrowed his eyes. [BITCH] But Marcus…his gaze flickered between me and Edward with a knowing look.

“The progeny of our peculiar former king has met an impossibly rare treat.”

Tearing his attention away from us, Marcus peeked at Aro and gave him a single, slight nod. [honestly, i've always wondered if Marcus would have said anything if Aro hadn't discovered the bond. maybe Marcus thought it'd be better if E&B were both dead because that's really what he wants for himself...]

Grinning, Aro paused for dramatic effect.

In a loud voice that rang through the chamber, the announcement rang out.

“Edward and Isabella are mates!”

Alice’s mouth fell open.

The three kings’ gazes shifted to me.

So did everyone else’s.

Everyone’s—except Edward’s.

After a shock of stunned silence coursed through the room, the entire guard burst into laughter.

Breaking out in song, Jane holler-laughed, “O, to be a Cullen: eat animals, like animals.” [used to be: "mate with animals, like animals."]

“Cheers to the noblest savages in the West!” Alec sang in a stunning vibrato. Another chorus of whoops and laughs sounded.

Alice’s lips became a fine line. Edward closed his eyes. Flushing red, I frowned and looked down at my shoes.

“Children,” said Aro, his stern fatherly tone cutting off the next lines of the rhyme, “good little courtiers do not sing such vulgar songs to distinguished guests. Apologize at once or there shant be any dessert.” [the first time i drafted this scene (~2021), it was pretty gruesome. blood was dripping from the ceiling; some dribbled down Bella's forehead. in the other room there were humans being tapped like casks; there was screaming throughout the scene. the kings were drinking blood from chalices (as a status/age symbol). anyway, it was super distracting, so i cut it.] Their peal of laughter quieted to snickers behind him.

I was intrigued by how Aro sees Edward gift, [hopefully i answered above, let me know!],

and how exactly the others feel about Edward and Bella's bond. Is it seen as a kink? As a paraphilia? [you're 100% right. even eating animals, to the Volturi, is "deviant" behavior that the Volturi feels must be corrected (this was said explicitly in an earlier draft.) they see the Denalis as lesser than because they have sexual relations with humans. vampires hearing of Edward & Isabella's relationship usually involves shock, scorn, or amusement, and even the kings have only heard rumors of these sorts of bonds...i can only imagine what the community at large must think...]