#bellaro

trans!bella, only child, dark raised by charlie!au, aro/bella eventually, maybe more w/ poly!Volturi, probable cullen bashing.

"You're an awfully strange bird, aren't you?" Not recognizing the voice, Bella looks up from the sprawl of textbooks and notebooks across the table. One of the new kids with tawny eyes and tawny hair is leaning over the other side of the table, one hand braced against the wood as he stares down at her to pass his judgement. Apparently, the Cullen parents don't let their kids get much sun — he's paler than her.

Then, the words themselves hit, the rapid thrusts of a knife targeting something soft and hopeful that shrivels and whimpers when struck. That's the first thing the homeschooled, starting in the middle of the school year kid says? He hasn't even introduced himself and he's looked at her like she smells bad in all the classes they've shared today; she usually doesn't lean into the weight of being the sheriff's kid, but at this very moment she wishes it had made Edward avoid her. She's too upset to consciously notice the old cadence of his words, but something about the question does immediately feel... weird, and her mind starts to throw explanations for a question she hasn't realized she's asking. Can he — can he tell? Does he know because his dad has been a doctor at the hospital since before she started her new meds? Have they — do the Cullens talk about her, like a spectacle?

Fuck you very much, she thinks. He shifts his weight closer over the table. She pulls disdain over herself like a shield, looking him up and down with a slowness meant to imply she's struggling to find anything impressive about him, and flicks her hair over her shoulder exactly like Jessica, the meanest girl in school. They're kind of obligated to be enemies because her dad is the only defense attorney in town, but she's still Bella's role model. She's everything Bella has never been.

Popular. Fearless. Interesting.

She channels Jessica's sharp smile and tone, as well as the way she shakes her head to accentuate her words when she's upset. "And you're an awful, rude little boy, aren't you?" It's satisfying to see her twist on his own words strike home; he doesn't have anything else to say.

She packs her notes up quickly, swinging her backpack up and over her shoulder, and borrows a flounce from Jessica's last cafeteria fight with her boy-du-jour to leave the library. She spends the rest of her study hall period in the back of Mrs. Goff's Spanish I, the small mix of eager freshmen, lazy juniors, and repeating seniors not paying much attention to her late entrance. She just has to make it through the rest of junior year, then she'll be an early graduate.

Then she'll be free.

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trans!beau, twins w/ bella, dark parent trap!au, life&death remix/fusion, aro/felix, aro/beau, aro/bella eventually, maybe more w/ poly!Volturi. maybe twincest? definitely blasphemous. cullen bashing!

"I will reward you if you can convince Esme to feed." Glass thuds solidly against the top of the desk as Aro moves a wine bottle forward pointedly.

"Mrs. Esme? I… would have figured thirst would be part of their punishment." Beau has grown bolder speaking his mind recently, since Aro will hear it all eventually anyway and hasn't punished him yet, but the flat stare he receives is almost enough to send him squeaking back into his shell.

"The three of them were told they could drink human blood weekly or be taken to hunt in the mountains monthly, as we cannot spare a guard to constantly hunt with them. How will it look when Carlisle's mate is the only one who 'chooses' to suffer?" Beau leans against the edge of the desk, using its sharp edge on his hip bone to hold him back, remind him it's not his place to comfort a god, no matter how distraught the tiny wrinkle of that perfect brow makes him. There's a noticeable pause as Padrone Aro stops, staring at Beau and through him like he's looking for something specific. He must find it, because his voice is soft as he says, "I still love him, no matter how he disappoints me."

Beau is at once seethingly envious and explosively furious that Carlisle Cullen lays claim to this loyalty from God, when he doesn't even want it or appreciate it — and then he is guilty, for thinking of himself first, and how much better he would have appreciated Dr. Cullen's blessings.

What he should be focusing on is how Aro feels.

"That sounds really painful."

Fuck it. God should never look that sad. Beau circles the desk, dropping to his knees to bravely settle his head next to Aro's thigh. Not touching, he would never dare touch first, but making it obvious that he's here to serve God however he needs, whether it's cuddles or blood or conversation. He just looks up, quiet and present, and is rewarded by God's hand curling around his neck to guide him the last half inch.

As his head settles its weight on Aro, Beau looks up and asks, "Do you hate Esme?"