Ooo can I please request a Demetri x fem!reader with a Beauty and the Beast theme where the Cullens had another human friend who knew their secret, so as punishment, the Volturi high guard show up to take her to the Volterra castle to stay with them forever (as theyâd turn her at some point), and Dem is ordered to watch her 24/7, and sheâs extremely terrified of him at first, and the one watching her gets superrrr protective because sheâs his mate and eventually heâd be the one to turn her. Omg and like Belle, sheâd loveee books and they would bond by him taking her to The Volturiâs huge library and heâd be super soft with her đđĽş
Beauty in the Castle â Demetri Volturi
The Volturi came at dusk, in their black cloaks, led by Felix and two others whose names she never caught. Carlisle calm explanation â âThey have decided your knowledge makes you a liability.â â did nothing to stop the icy fear that gripped her chest when Demetri eyes locked onto hers.
She was the Cullens human friend, and that means she already knew too much. All those quiet afternoons in Forks discussing books with Bella and helping Esme in the garden. Now that friendship had become her sentence.
âTake her to Volterra.â Aro ordered with a sweet smile, as if he were offering tea. âShe will remain under our watch. Permanently.â
Demetri was assigned as her constant shadow. Twenty-four hours a day. No exceptions.
The first week was hell.
The Volterra castle was beautiful in the way old cathedrals are beautiful. Her chambers were luxurious and big, if she wasnât kidnapped, thid would be a dream. Except the fact that the door locked from the outside, and Demetri was always there. He moved like smoke and when he watched her, it was with unnerving focus. She couldnât even bathe without knowing he stood right outside the door.
She was truly terrified of him.
Every time he entered the room, her heart rate spiked. She pressed herself against the farthest wall, arms wrapped around her, eyes wide. He tried speaking to her but she barely answered. He never raised his voice. Never threatened her. But his presence alone made her flinch.
One evening, after she refused dinner again, he stood by the window, crimson eyes reflecting the dark light.
âYou are afraid I will hurt you.â he said quietly. She didnât answer, just stared at the floor.
âI have been ordered to keep you safe. That includes from myself, cara.â She still didnât believe him.
The turning point came on the twelfth day.
She spent the morning curled up in an armchair, rereading the only book she was allowed to bring â an old copy of Beauty and the Beast she had since childhood. When Demetri noticed her tracing the pages with trembling fingers, something shifted in his expression.
âYou like books.â he said. It wasnât a question this time either. He have been watching her long enough to notice everything.
She nodded once, wary.
He extended his hand. âCome with me.â She hesitated so long that his red eyes softened. âI will not force you.â he murmured. âBut I think you will like where I am taking you.â
Curiosity won and she placed her hand in his. His skin was ice-cold, but his grip was gentle, careful not to squeeze. He led her through winding corridors and down a wide staircase until he stopped before two enormous oak doors. When he pushed them open, her breath caught.
The library was massive. Shelves soared three stories high, filled with leather-bound volumes that smelled of age and ink. Ladders on rails. Reading nooks with velvet chairs. Golden light filtered through stained-glass windows high above, casting jewel tones across the stone floor.
Demetri watched her face the entire time, a small smile tugging at his lips.
âYou may read anything you like.â he said softly. âStay as long as you want.â
For the first time since arriving, she forgot to be afraid for a few minutes and wandered between the shelves, fingers brushing spines, eyes wide with wonder. Demetri stayed close but gave her space, occasionally pulling down a book he thought she might enjoy.
Days turned into weeks and Demetri never left her side, but the terror slowly ebbed. He was patient in a way that surprised her. He answered every hesitant question about the castle, about their history, about himself. He started bringing her small gifts. A new book left on her bedside table. Fresh flowers from the castle gardens. One evening he even brought a cup of her favorite tea.
The mate bond had struck him the moment he first saw her in Forks. Aro had known immediately, of course. That was why Demetri had been chosen as her guard. The kings found it poetic â the tracker bound forever to the human he would one day turn.
But Demetri never pushed. He waited. He softened. One night, after they spent hours together in the library discussing Pride and Prejudice she finally asked the question that had been burning inside them both.
âWhy are you so kind to me?â
Demetri was quiet for a long moment, staring into the fireplace.
âBecause you are my mate,â he said simply.
Her heart stuttered, but he continued, voice gentle.
âI felt it the moment I saw you. The pull. The need to protect. To keep you close. I know this castle feels like a prison to you now⌠but I swear to you, I will make it feel like home. If you will let me.â
She was still scared â of forever, of losing her humanity, of the world she has been thrown into â but when Demetri reached out and brushed a tear from her cheek with his thumb, she didnât flinch.
Days passed.
He took her to the library almost every day. Sometimes she read in silence. Sometimes he read to her in Italian, translating passages when she asked.
He became fiercely protective. When Caius made a sharp comment about âthe human petâ one evening in the hall, Demetri stepped in front of her instantly, his body rigid.
âShe is mine, master.â he said, voice low and dangerous. âSpeak about her with respect.â
Even Aro raised an eyebrow at the intensity.
Demetri started spending the nights in a chair beside her bed instead of outside her door. Not because he needed rest, but because he wanted to be there if she had nightmares about the turning that loomed closer every month.
One night, after a particularly bad dream where she saw herself with red eyes and no heartbeat and woke up crying, Demetri was there instantly, cool arms wrapping around her, pulling her against his chest.
âShh, cara mia.â he whispered, stroking her hair. âI will be gentle when the time comes. I promise. You will not be alone. Never again.â She clung to him, fingers digging into his shirt, and for the first time she believed him.
Months passed.
The fear never fully disappeared, but it transformed into something else â something tender and deep. She began seeking his touch instead of avoiding it. She smiled when he entered the room. She teased him about his dramatic flair when he tracked down a specific book she wanted from the depths of the library.
One afternoon in the library, sunlight painting the shelves in warm light, she looked up from her book to find Demetri watching her with open adoration.
âWhat?â she asked softly.
He reached across the small table and took her hand, pressing a cool kiss to her knuckles.
âI was thinking how lucky the beast was in your storyâŚâ he murmured. âTo find beauty in his castle. To be redeemed by her.â
Her breath caught.
âIâm not a beast.â he continued, red eyes soft, âbut I was⌠incomplete before you. Empty. You have brought light into centuries of darkness, my love.â
She leaned forward and kissed him first, Demetri froze for half a second, then cupped her face with both hands and kissed her back with centuries of restrained longing.
The turning came on a quiet winter night, almost a year after her arrival.
She was ready. Scared, but ready. Demetri held her through the pain, whispering in Italian against her hair. He was the one who bit her, of course, he refused to let anyone else do it. When the fire took her, he never left her side for three days.
When she woke, red eyes wide and new, the first thing she saw was Demetri face, glowing with quiet joy.
âWelcome, bellezza.â he whispered, pressing his forehead to hers. âNow we have forever.â
She smiled and pulled him into a kiss that tasted like the beginning of a new story. The castle was no longer a prison. It was home.
And Demetri â her tracker, her protector, her beast who had never truly been a beast â was hers.
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Pairing: Caius Volturi x Reader
Summary: Aro's niece returns after decades of traveling, only to find interest in a certain King she hadn't met yet.
Warnings & Themes: slight age gap but ur vampires so it doesnt rly matter i guess, caius slow burn!!!, sexual tension, aro adding fuel to fire LOL #girlboss, reader basically bugs caius into being her man, caius is kind of mean as usual </3, SEXUAL TENSION X2, eventual brat taming
You were Aro's beloved niece.
Sometimes, you were all the King talked about. Photos you'd sent of places you'd been, people you'd met, people you'd eaten (though Uncle Aro didn't typically encourage reckless behavior, it was quite impressive). Besides, you always cleaned up your messes.
And eventually, you always returned home.
And here you were, after close to 70 years. Pushing the doors to the throne room open, a bright beaming smile on your pointed teeth. You dropped your bags onto the porcelain floor with no shyness, looking straight up at your uncle. You ignored the other two on the thrones, not bothering with introductions. After all, your uncle had never allowed you to formally meet them. Not until you got old enough, of course.. Ironic considering how ancient you truly were.
"Dear Y/n!" Your uncle nearly squealed with delight, erupting off from his throne in flight. When he reached the floor, you pulled him into a tight hug.
Caius Volturi remained on his throne, arching a snowy eyebrow. Hugs. Aro typically despised them. He'd throw someone's head against a wall for even attempting to make contact with his pure velvet cloak.
He studied you while you greeted. You certainly looked the part. Long, black hair cascading down your back. Bright red eyes. A jaw droppingly gorgeous face, made to be a very alluring monster.
Aro held you at arm's length, his crimson eyes sparkling with genuine delight. "Seventy years, and you look more radiant than ever, my dear! The world agrees with you, it seems."
"The world is a fascinating buffet, Uncle," you replied, your voice a melodic hum that echoed pleasantly in the vast chamber. "But even the most exciting buffet grows tiresome. I missed home." Your gaze finally drifted from Aro, sweeping over the other two thrones. Your eyes lingered on Marcus for a moment, acknowledging his eternal, melancholic silence with a slight, respectful nod, before they landed on Caius.
And stayed there.
He was exactly as Aro had described in his letters: severe, pale as a marble statue, with an aura of pure, unadulterated frost. His white hair was like a crown of ice, and his golden eyes held a permanent, simmering irritation. He looked⌠challenging. And you had never been one to back down from a challenge.
Aro, ever the perceptive showman, saw the flicker of interest in your eyes. A slow, cunning smile spread across his lips. "Ah, but where are my manners! Y/n, you have been away so long, you have not been properly introduced to my dear brothers. You know Marcus, of course." He gestured vaguely. "And this," he said, his tone dripping with theatrical importance, "is Caius. The sharp edge of our justice. The fire to my⌠intellect."
The same kind of smile snaked across your lips as you analyzed Caius further.
You took a step forward, your movements fluid and utterly un-intimidated by the imposing throne room or its icy king. "Caius," you repeated, your voice tasting the name. "My uncle has written so much about you. Though, I suspect he left out the best parts."
Caius did not move. He simply stared down at you, his expression one of profound boredom laced with a hint of contempt. "Did he," he stated flatly. It wasn't a question.
"Indeed," you continued, undeterred. You circled slightly, your eyes tracing the lines of his throne, his posture, his face. "He mentioned your⌠fervor for order. Your distaste for chaos. He failed to mention how the light catches your hair. It's like freshly fallen snow."
A faint, almost imperceptible twitch at the corner of Caius's mouth was your only reward. Behind you, Aro made a sound somewhere between a cough and a chuckle, quickly disguising it by clasping his hands together.
"Caius, my brother, do not be so stern! My niece has just returned. She brings fresh perspectives from the outside world," Aro chimed in, the picture of innocence. "Y/n, you must tell us of your travels. Caius is particularly interested in the⌠disciplinary measures of other covens. Aren't you, brother?"
Caiusâs golden eyes narrowed slightly, shooting a silent warning at Aro. "My interests are in effective rule, not tourist anecdotes."
"But discipline can be so⌠nuanced," you purred, stopping directly before his throne and looking up at him. The height difference was significant, but you held your ground, your stance confident. "In the East, I learned a technique for interrogation that involves a single, precise needle and the slow drip of venom. Itâs not about pain, you see. Itâs about anticipation. The mind breaks long before the body. I thought it might appeal to your⌠sensibilities."
For the first time, his gaze shifted from one of pure dismissal to one of analytical consideration. He was, if nothing else, a connoisseur of punishment. He leaned forward ever so slightly, the movement so minimal it would have been missed by a human eye.
"Anticipation is a worthless tool if the subject lacks the imagination to be terrified," he countered, his voice a low growl.
"Then you find a way to inspire their imagination," you countered smoothly, a sly smile playing on your lips. "It's a art form. Perhaps I could demonstrate sometime."
The sexual tension in the air was now as thick as the ancient stone walls. Aro looked like a cat that had gotten not only the cream but the entire dairy. He had thrown a spark into a room full of kindling, and you were happily fanning the flames.
Caius leaned back again, the brief moment of engagement over. He looked away from you, as if you had suddenly become a mildly irritating stain on his vision. "Your travels have made you bold, child. And talkative."
You laughed, a sound like chiming bells that seemed horribly out of place in the grim hall. "I'm centuries old, Caius. Hardly a child. But if you'd prefer I act like one, I can start by pestering you relentlessly until you pay attention to me. I'm told I can be very persistent."
You turned on your heel, your long hair swishing behind you, and picked up your bags. "It's been a delight, truly. Uncle, I'll be in my usual chambers. Caius," you said, throwing a final, challenging look over your shoulder. "I look forward to⌠boring you with more of my anecdotes soon."
As you swept out of the throne room, leaving a trail of disruptive energy in your wake, Aro floated back to his throne, humming with satisfaction.
Caius finally spoke, his voice cold and hard. "You brought that here on purpose, Aro."
Aro's smile was wide and unapologetic. "My dear brother, the castle has been so dreadfully quiet. I merely thought it needed a bit of life. And who better than my dear, persistent niece to provide it? Do try to play nice."
Caius said nothing, but his knuckles were white where they gripped the arm of his throne. He stared at the spot where you had stood, the ghost of your impertinent smile and the echo of your laugh seared into his mind. It was going to be a very, very long eternity.
It became your new favorite game: finding Caius. He was a creature of rigid habit, and after a week, you had his schedule memorized. Your favorite place to ambush him was the ancient, cavernous library, where he would often review centuries-old decrees.
You found him there, silhouetted against a towering stained-glass window, a scroll in his hands. You didn't speak. Instead, you drifted to a shelf nearby, pretending to browse. You selected a heavy tome on medieval torture methods â a subject you knew he respected â and leaned against the shelves, reading aloud a particularly gruesome passage about the Judas Cradle.
Your voice was low, melodic, giving the horrific description a sensual, rhythmic quality. You let your scent, a unique blend of night-blooming jasmine and cold, ancient stone, waft towards him. You felt the air shift, a subtle tightening that indicated he was listening, despite his perfectly still posture.
After a long moment, he lowered the scroll. "The historical account is inaccurate," he stated, his back still to you. "The angle of descent was steeper. The point, blunter. It was not about slow impalement, but about the explosive rupture of internal organs. The author was a romantic."
You smiled, closing the book. "A pity. I rather liked the slow, theatricality of it. But I defer to your expertise." You took a step closer. "Perhaps you could give me a private lesson on the correct application? I'm a visual learner."
Caius finally turned. His golden eyes were like shards of topaz, cold and hard. "I am not a tutor for bored nieces with too much time on their hands. Go pester your uncle."
He turned back to the window, dismissing you as completely as if youâd vanished. The rejection was absolute, a door slammed in your face. But as you left the library, you didn't feel defeated. You saw the way his fingers had tightened on the parchment, crinkling the edge. He had heard you. He had corrected you. It was a start.
Next, you found him walking the perimeter of the inner courtyard, a nightly patrol he undertook alone. The moon was full, bathing the stone paths in silver. You fell into step beside him, not saying a word for several laps. The only sounds were the soft fall of your feet and the distant chatter of the guard.
"You know," you began, your voice soft against the night, "in my travels, I met a coven in the Amazon. They believed that walking in silence with someone under a full moon created a bond stronger than blood. That their souls would intertwine."
Caius didn't even glance at you. "Superstitious nonsense."
"Perhaps," you conceded. "But it's a beautiful thought, isn't it? That without a single word, you could become tied to another for eternity." You let your hand brush against his cloak as you walked, the faintest whisper of contact.
He stopped dead. The air around him grew frigid. "Your attempts at seduction are as subtle as a thunderclap," he snarled, finally looking at you. His gaze was furious, but in the moonlight, you caught something else, a flicker of raw, primal awareness. "You smell of desperation. I have no interest in bonds, beautiful thoughts, or the childish games of a fledgling who has seen too much of the world and understood too little of it."
You smiled in his face innocently, your eyes peering up at him unbothered.
He turned and strode away, his form disappearing into the shadows of the castle walls. The insult should have stung, but it only made your unbeating heart thrill. Furious was better than bored. He was feeling something. You had gotten under his skin.
Finally, you tried once more.
This was his most sacred space. The map-strewn table, the battle plans, the seat of his power as a military strategist. You entered without knocking, finding him leaning over a map of Northern Europe, his brow furrowed.
"Aro said you might need a fresh perspective on the Balkan situation," you announced, moving to the opposite side of the table.
His head snapped up. "Get out."
"I know the terrain," you continued, ignoring him and pointing to a mountain range. "I spent twenty years there. The local covens don't fight by your rules. They use the humans as shields. Theyâ"
"I said, get out!" he roared, slamming his fist on the table. The stone cracked under the impact. The sound echoed through the room like a gunshot. He was across the table in a blur, his face inches from yours, his features a mask of pure, unadulterated rage. "You think your pretty face and your stories give you the right to invade my space? To speak on matters of strategy? You are a distraction. A nuisance. Aro's indulgence is the only reason you are still breathing in my presence."
You didn't flinch. You held his fiery gaze, your own expression calm. The sheer force of his anger was intoxicating. This was the real Caius, the storm beneath the ice.
"You can yell all you want, Caius," you said, your voice as cold as steel. "But it doesn't change the fact that I'm the only one in this castle who isn't afraid of you."
For a long, charged moment, you stared at each other. You could see the conflict in his eyes, the desire to simply snap your neck warring with something else, something he refused to name. With a sound of utter disgust, he turned and stormed from the room, leaving you alone with the cracked table and the scent of his fury hanging in the air.
It was his strongest resistance yet. You were sure you had lost. In fact, you were ready to switch your attention to something else.
Caius was gorgeous, yes. A prize. Something you had your eyes set on more than anything else.
But there were other men in the world. Not as beautiful or interesting as Caius, but.. Close.
For days, you let him be. You were either exploring the mountains of Italy, hunting human prey, reading the millions of books that your uncle had to offer you, or ordering expensive silks and velvets from the tailor to boost your self esteem (not that you needed it much.)
It was past midnight when a silent presence at your door pulled you from your thoughts. You opened it to find Caius. He wasn't raging. He wasn't cold. He looked⌠weary. And resolved.
He didn't wait for an invitation. He stepped inside, closing the door behind him with a soft, final click. The room suddenly felt very small.
"I have resisted you," he stated, his voice low and rough, as if the words were being torn from him. "I have insulted you. I have threatened you. I have banished you from my sight."
"You have," you agreed, your heart a still, silent stone in your chest, waiting.
He took a step closer, his golden eyes burning in the dim light. "You are a plague. A persistent, maddening, insufferable plague upon my existence."
You said nothing, simply watching him.
"And yet," he continued, his gaze dropping to your lips for a fraction of a second before meeting your eyes again, "I find my thoughts are of nothing else. Your voice. Your scent. Your infernal impertinence."
He closed the final distance between you. He didn't reach for you, not yet. He simply stood there, allowing you to feel the full force of his presence, his centuries of power, his surrender.
"The bond under the full moon," he murmured, his voice barely a whisper. "A foolish superstition."
"Utter nonsense," you breathed.
His hand came up, his cold fingers gently tracing the line of your jaw. The touch was electric, a shockwave after so much resistance. "Then it seems our souls will have to intertwine the old-fashioned way."
And finally, after weeks of chasing and four brutal rejections, Caius Volturi bent his head and captured your lips with his. It wasn't a gentle kiss. It was a conquest and a surrender all at once, a release of seventy years of tension. It was full of anger, and frustration, and a raw, undeniable need that had finally, irrevocably, caved.
A sound, half-gasp, half-moan, escaped you. The challenge in you, the one that had teased and provoked him, sparked to life one last time. Your hands came up, not to pull him closer, but to push against his chest. It was a futile, reflexive act of defiance.
A low growl rumbled in his chest, a sound of pure, predatory triumph. He captured your wrists in one of his large, cold hands, pinning them easily against the stone wall behind you. The movement was fluid, effortless, a stark reminder of the immense power heâd always held back.
"Did you think your games would end with a gentle caress?" he snarled against your mouth, his breath a frosty whisper. "You begged for a monster, little one. Now you have one."
He used his free hand to fist in your hair, tilting your head back to give him deeper, more brutal access. This wasn't about pleasure; it was about possession. It was about marking you, branding you as his after so long denying the claim. His teeth scraped against your bottom lip, not enough to draw venom, but enough to make your entire body jolt with a sharp, electric thrill.
You being systematically dismantled. Each dominating kiss, each restrictive hold, chipped away at your defiance, melting it into a pool of raw, submissive need. Your struggles ceased, your body going pliant against his. A whimper, genuine and utterly surrendered, vibrated in your throat.
He released your hair, his hand sliding down to grip your hip, his fingers digging into the flesh there with bruising force. He ground the hard ridge of his arousal against you, a blunt, unmistakable promise of what was to come.
"All that impertinence," he murmured, his lips trailing a searing path down your jaw to your throat. "All that clever talk." He nipped at the sensitive skin where your shoulder met your neck, and you arched against him, a silent plea. "Silenced. Finally."
He released your wrists, but you didn't move them. They stayed pinned against the wall by the sheer force of his will. His hands roamed your body now, not with tenderness, but with a frantic, greedy urgency. He tore at the delicate silk of your shift, the fabric rending with a sound that was obscenely loud in the quiet room. The cold air hit your bare skin, followed immediately by the colder touch of his palms, mapping your curves, claiming every inch.
His mouth found yours again, this kiss slower, deeper, more devastatingly intimate. It was no longer just about anger. It was about a hunger so profound it felt like agony. It was the final, irrevocable cave-in, and you were both buried in the avalanche.
When he finally broke the kiss, you were panting, your mind blank of everything but him. His eyes, burning like liquid gold, scanned your face, your lips, your dazed expression, the complete and total submission in your posture.
The ghost of a smirk touched his lips. The brat was tamed.
He leaned forward, until his lips were against your ear. "Now," he whispered, the word a dark, delicious threat. "We begin. And remember, little one," he hummed. "This is what you asked for."
Darling, I'm not doing that to you" Jane's tired tone caused you to let out a loud groan as she stared at you over her book.
"Pleaaseeeee, I've never asked for anything... today, I would just like to see you let go, Your always so careful, I just want you to take what you want" Looking at you Jane raised an eyebrow at your response, that look alone made your thighs softly squeeze together. She was giving in.
"Next time, I'll indulge your weird fantasy next time" YES.
The air's thick with tension and nervous excitement, wet greedy kisses that threaten to overwhelm you interlock between you and Jane. Her mouth keeps brushing yours every time you pull away for air, as though the thought of your lips not being connected with her's for than five seconds is incomprehensible.
You're sitting prettily on her laps as Jane kisses you like a starved woman, hands placed firmly on your lower hips, lips moving against yours in a way that's toeing the line between slow respect and pure neediness.
When you pull away for air, Jane barely gives you time to regain your focus before she leans in again, kiss deepening, like she's trying to memorize the feeling of your lips against hers. Almost like she's nervous.
Your fingers curl into the soft fabric of her uniform, material rubbing against your bare chest as a shallow whisper of her name leaves your mouth and that's all it takes for her to lose her restraint, with a deep groan that sends heat rushing to your core, Jane moves. The world tilting as she guides you back softly until your shoulders hit the bed, mattress softly catching you.
Staring up at Jane, you can see her face is set. She's thinking. And your world's tilting again.
You're on top on her; thighs braced on either said of her lower stomach. Jane's flat on her back, her hands trying to tug you roughly upwards pulling you up, so you straddle her face. You lean your hands on her shoulders, softly stopping her movement.
"Ja-Jane, what are you doing doll?" Your voice barely registers to her, you're still wearing that stupid Victoria secret panties, her eye softly twitches.
"I'm trying to enjoy myself but apparently Victoria's secret is somehow always getting in my way... every time."
The cold air hits you before you can fully register it, the distinct sound of fabric ripping reaches you next. she ripped them.
"Jane! those were expensive!" "I'll buy you more, hell I'll buy you the store. right after I enjoy myself first. Now sit on my face."
Her hands tug you forward, this time you follow.
You sink down without warning, knees hitting the bed as your thighs bracket her ears. The second your dripping cunts meet her mouth; Jane lets out a deep groan that vibrates straight to your core, heat curling deep in your stomach. Tongue pushing past your folds as her nose bumps against your clit.
Her hands unapologetically sink into your hips, fingers digging in hard enough that you can already feel the marks forming, she's yanking you fully down, vampires have no need to breathe at all, and she's reminding you of that.
Ignoring her attempts to make you move faster, you grind slowly at first, finding a rhythm. Lifting your hips when it becomes too much, she chases you, scowl deeping trying to drag you back to her.
"Jane, please its to much" you whine, watching her through your lashes, fingers digging into the matress as Jane gives nothing but a passive responsive hum.
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Hope you don't mind a 2nd request your last one was AMAZING!! Could I request the Volturi finding their mate when she stumbles across the castle late at night and they find out she's blind?
THE VOLTURI'S REACTION TO THEIR BLIND MATE
a/n: of course! i don't have any restrictions on how many requests someone can make. as long as you read the post for the request you made, i'm happy to oblige all the requests unless i'm on a break. :) i'm also really glad you liked it! i tried my best to match the scenario according to the characters.
warnings: however, since i'm trying my best to match the scenario according to the characters, there will be angst, dark content, mentions of blood, implied cruelty, toxic relationships, etc. in the movies, the kings have always been cruel. we can already see that from caius's behaviour and how aro was willing to kill his own sister to get marcus to stay, so i'm trying to match a realistic scenario to their personalities. though, the backstories for the three kings will be different since they rarely go outside. also, the casts i choose for heidi, aro and marcus differ from the ones in the movies because i imagine them to look like that, but if you imagine them to look something else, then feel free to just use that idea too.
masterlists & requests: before you go, have a glass of wine or better yet, recommend a good bottle. any kind of message is always a delight.
DEMETRI VOLTURI â THE CASANOVA
Demetri had been strolling around inside the castle after finishing a feeding. He had just returned to Volterra from a tiring mission, but the blood had quickly filled him up. His senses were sharper now, and it didnât take much for him to hear the faint sound of a heartbeat coming from just outside the castle walls. It wasnât unusual for humans to lurk nearby, often drawn in by the beauty of the place, but this time, the scent he picked up was different. Sweet and almost too tempting. He figured it wouldnât hurt to check. Maybe a little snack. When Demetri stepped outside, he saw you standing by the wall, lightly touching the stone with your hand. You didnât notice him at first, not until he spoke and asked if you were alright. He kept his usual charming tone, assuming you were just another lost tourist who's either clueless or reckless for wandering alone at night. Either way, it was better to lure you in gently.
But then he noticed the walking stick. The way your eyes didnât quite focus on him, always looking away. And yet, you answered him perfectly, which made it clear you werenât ignoring himâyou just couldnât seem to see him.
You explained that you had been separated from your friend and ended up wandering here by accident. For a moment, Demetri felt a feeling of pity. He was about to let you go, but that strong and tempting scent still clung to you, even after he had already fed. Heâd never met a human who smelled as good as you did.
All these years, Demetri had one of the strongest resistance to blood, and yet here he was. Tempted, even after feeding? It didnât make sense. Unless, of course... you were his mate.
Demetri wasnât shocked by the idea of having a blind mate. That part didnât faze him. What surprised him was having a mate at all. After all his years, all his killings, and yet somehow, fate still decided to bless him with a sweet and beautiful mate like you?
Still unsure if it was real, he escorted you back to town and easily found your friend by following the faint scent left on you. Later, he fed again until he was completely full, just to be sure he wasnât hallucinating or caught in one of the guardsâ illusions. But even then, he couldnât get you out of his mind.
â
FELIX VOLTURI â THE EXECUTIONER
Felix had only stepped outside to get some fresh air after hours of nonstop work. He wasnât expecting trouble. Just a small walk under the night sky. However, the second he picked up the beat of a human heart near the entrance of Volterra, his senses snapped into high alert. He thought Heidi had made sure no humans were lingering too close to the castle, but clearly, something had slipped past her. And honestly, if someone wandered close enough to be bitten, he wouldnât complain. The darkness of the night made it easy to get away with things.
He approached casually, expecting some clueless tourist or maybe even a ghost catcher, but when he saw you, he hesitated in his steps. You were standing near the castle walls, lost in your own thoughts, and didnât react until he spoke. His deep voice startled you, and you jumped back slightly before explaining youâd gotten separated from your friend. As you spoke, he noticed two thingsâyou werenât looking at him directly, and you held a walking stick. That was quick to stop him. You were blind, and your idiotic friend had let you wander this far at night? That pissed him off more than anything else. He knew humans could be irresponsible, but even this much?
Felix didnât want to hurt you. He had no orders to bring anyone in tonight, and it wasnât like you were posing any threat. He couldâve let it end there, but something about you made him linger longerâor more specifically, your scent did. It filled the air, rich and sweet, like it was made just to torture him. He found himself thinking about a conversation Marcus once had with him. Something about recognizing a mate by scent alone. It couldnât be possible.. right? A blind girl, lost in the dark, wandering too close to the Volturi is his mate?
He didnât know what to do with that thought. Still, he helped track down your friend and gave them a hard warning not to lose you again. His tone wasnât harsh, but it was firm enough to make them feel it. Then he walked back to the castle at a normal pace, slower than usual, stuck in his head the whole way. The idea unsettled him more than he cared to admit. If you really were his mate⌠that meant you were in danger just by being close to him. He was loyal to his clanâthe same one that despises humans and maintain laws to keep the peace between the two worlds. If staying away was the only way to protect you from the Volturi, then so be it. Even if it meant not seeing you again.
â
HEIDI VOLTURI â THE SEDUCTRESS
Heidi had just finished closing up the last of the evening tours, going over the schedule for the next day and politely turning away any stragglers who hoped for a late-night visit. Of course, the tours were only a cover, a system maintained carefully to feed Volturi members without raising suspicion. Heidi always made sure to tie up loose ends, checking each human off the list before nightfall. Everything was routine until she caught a scent in the air that made her freeze.
It was sweet, powerful, and impossible to ignore. Her eyes quickly scanned the area and landed on you. You were standing near the castle wall, fingers brushing the stone surface. She moved fast, holding her breath to keep control, and approached with a calm, polite voice, asking if you needed help. You explained you had been separated from your friend and had no idea where you were, but you'd overheard some locals talk about the castle and thought you might find them here. The walking stick didnât escape her notice, nor did the unfocused way your eyes drifted. Still, none of that mattered to her because for the first time in her long life, she knew exactly what this meant.
Out of everyone in the Volturi, Heidi had always been the one who wanted to find her mate. And now that she had, she didnât care that you were blind. If anything, she found herself even more protective. But as a vampire who's a part of the Volturi clan, the danger was evident and she couldnât let the others know about you. Not yet. So she helped you find your friend, her smile warm but her tone sharp when she told them never to leave you alone like that again. Then before she turned to go, she quietly promised you that she will make sure to meet with you again. And those words stayed in your mind long after until you could finally meet her again, as she promised.
â
ARO VOLTURI â THE MANIPULATIVE KING
Aro had the ability to see the memories of a person just by touching them. It was a powerful tool he used to determine who was loyal and who was treacherous, and he never grew bored of it. One night, he requested a late-night snackâsomething light to quench his thirst before the next proper feeding. Out of curiosity, he asked for someone "innocent" as well, wanting to test whether humans truly could be as pure as they appeared. What he didnât expect was for one of the guards to bring in someone with the most delectable scent he had encountered in years. You followed behind the guard, holding a walking stick, your head turning gently in every direction, eyes never quite settling but still soft.
When Aro greeted you, you looked confused and asked where you were, then explained that you had gotten separated from your friend and had heard of a nearby castle, hoping they might have come here to find you. All the while, Aro took your hand in his own and looked through your memories. He found joy, kindness, warmth, and something that made his expression brighten with interest. He noticed, too, that your friend had already been among the bodies drained during the morningâs feeding, but he said nothing of it. Instead, he offered you a place to stay in the castle for the time being, claiming it would be safer until your friend returned. In truth, he was intriguedânot just by your scent, but by your mind, your light. And as he continued to touch your hand throughout the conversation, his mood only improved, fascinated by a rare gem like you.
â
CAIUS VOLTURI â THE CRUEL KING
Caius wasnât particularly hungry, only restless. The kind of restlessness that made him crave control, something to assert his dominance over. So, he requested a late-night offering under the guise of a quick feed, something clean and quiet to satisfy the itch. As always, the guard delivered what he ordered for. The scent that entered the chamber was unexpectedly sweet, enough to catch his attention for a brief moment. Curious despite himself, he turned to look, and then immediately froze.
You stepped into the room carefully, guided only by a walking stick, your head turning at every sound, and your eyes unfocused. There was no fear in you, just confusion as you asked where you were, explaining that you'd gotten separated from your friend and had heard of the nearby castle, hoping for them to be in the castle. Caius didnât answer. He was too busy trying to make sense of the situation. He looked to you in disbelief, thinking this must be a mistake. But then your scent reached him againârich, intoxicating, unmistakable. His expression darkened with slow, growing revulsion as he realized the truth that you were his mate.
The very idea repulsed him. Caius, a king among kings, bound by blood to a fragile, blind human who didnât even know what room she was standing in. Fate, it seemed, was mocking him. He had always valued strength, superiority, control and now this? A weak, wandering soul tethered to him by nature's cruel joke? He didnât care how kind you might be or how rare your scent was. He saw you only as a liability. A stain on his legacy.
Without a word, he ordered you removed from his presenceâunharmed, but unseen. He did not want the others to know. He would not acknowledge it. And yet, as you were led away, the bond was faintly inside him, unwanted and inescapable. He stood there alone in silence, seething, not just at fate, but at himself for feeling anything at all.
â
MARCUS VOLTURI â THE EXHAUSTED KING
Marcus spent most of his time in the library, one of the few places within the castle that offered him any sense of peace. It was the only room in the castle not drowned in screams or dread, and the silence suited him. Aro had long since learned to leave him be during these moments, but Caius remained relentless, always sending in fresh humans under the false disguise of a rare vacation to pressure Marcus to feedâto live, to feel again. He never did. Instead, he gave the humans to the guards stationed at his side, suffering in hunger yet feeling calm in the peace.
That night seemed no different, until he heard the soft tap of a walking stick against the marble of the floors. His gaze rose, mildly curious, only to land on the figure entering behind the guard. You followed obediently, your eyes unfocused and unaware, hand lightly brushing the ancient shelves as if trying to understand the shape of the room. He questioned why you came here, then you explained calmly that youâd been separated from your friend, heard the talks from the locals of a castle nearby, and thought perhaps they had wandered here first. Marcus listened silently, already preparing to dismiss you, but then your scent reached him.
It was soft and pure and quite cruel in its beautyâa scent he hadn't encountered in all his years of mourning. The bond struck immediately, that ancient thread tugging at the remains of a heart heâd tried so long to silence. You were his mate. A blind, mortal girl lost in the castle of monstersâtied to a man who had nothing left to give. He felt the weight of fate settle heavily on him, not with joy, but with sorrow. You didnât deserve him. You deserved a full life, not a broken one.
He sent the guards away with a quiet order and walked you outside himself, keeping his hand near but never touching. Your friend was already nearby, shouting your name in the distance. Marcus watched your face light up at the sound and felt that pull again, bittersweet and painful. He said nothing as he watched you go, only turning back when the last echo of your steps vanished. For your sake and his own, he hoped that would be the last time you crossed his path, though a strange feeling in his soul told him otherwise.
hellooo, thereee!! Iâm so incredibly in love with your work, esp fic where reader was the only one in the cullen family with common sense!!
i wanst sure if your reqs were opened or not, but if it isnât, please ignore!! could I req something with alec voltusi (gn reader) pleaseâŚ? have a great day/night!!
WHAT'S WRONG WITH A LITTLE DECAPITATION?
alec volturi x gender neutral reader
authors note: the first thing that immediately came to mind when I saw you requested Alec was for him to have the complete opposite of a golden retriever puppy. Like you know how the Cullens paint Alec and Jane as violence driven and just overall evil, well, what if Alec's partner is just that but x100? Like it's literally a problem when THE Alec Volturi is telling you to calm down and think rationally before killing someone. So, yeah, I hope you enjoy! (BTW, I made this with the idea of Alec being of age 'cause it just sits better with me.)
Another one bites the dust. You hummed the lyrics under your breath as you decapitated another vampire before setting them on fire. "Is this the twelfth body today or merely the fifth?" your boyfriend voiced from behind, his tone indifferent but laced with that familiar hint of exasperation you'd come to find endearing.
You turned, wiping a smear of venom from your cheek with the back of your hand. "Fifth," you corrected cheerfully. "The other seven were from yesterday. Don't be so dramatic, Alec."
His crimson eyes scanned the carnage around you. Bodies dismembered, some already burning to ash, others twitching in their final moments of death throes. The scent of burning vampire flesh filled the air, a perfume you found particularly alluring.
"The Romanians arrive in two hours," he reminds you, stepping over a severed arm without a second glance. "Aro was quite specific that he wanted this matter handled quietly."
"They were spies," you said with a shrug, nudging a headless corpse with your foot. "Spies who got caught. What's the quiet part of that?"
"The part where you don't create a spectacle that can be traced back to us." Though there was no real chastisement in his voice. He'd long ago accepted that trying to curb your violent tendencies was like trying to contain a wildfire with a water pistol.
You sauntered over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your cold body against his. "But it's so much fun when they scream. Did you hear that last one? He had quite the set of lungs on him for someone who doesn't need to breathe."
Alec's lips curved into a rare smile, his hands settling on your waist. "I believe they heard him in Florence."
You laughed, a sound that made nearby animals scatter in terror. "Good. Let them hear. Let them all know what happens when they cross the Volturi."
"Not all of them. Just the ones stupid enough to get caught by you."
You stood on tiptoe to brush your lips against his. "Jealous?"
"Never," he murmured against your mouth. "Just concerned that you'll eventually run out of vampires to kill and start on the human population."
"Now that's an idea." you teased, though you both knew you had no interest in hunting humans unless absolutely necessary. They were too fragile, too easily broken. Vampires provided a much more satisfying challenge.
Alec's fingers traced patterns on your back. "The others are waiting. We should clean up this mess before the Romanians arrive."
"Let them find it," you suggested, nipping at his throat. "It might make them more cooperative."
"Or it might start a war before negotiations even begin," Alec countered, though he made no move to stop your exploration of his neck. "And Caius has been looking forward to this summit for months."
You sighed dramatically. "Fine, but I'm keeping one of the heads as a souvenir."
Alec's chuckle was dark and rich. "Of course you are. Which one?"
"The one with the ridiculous mustache," you decided, releasing him to retrieve your chosen trophy. "He looked like he was trying to imitate a 19th century gentleman. Failed miserably, of course."
As you picked up the severed head, Alec watched you with an expression that might have been concern on anyone else. On him, it looked more like fond amusement.
"You know," he said as you wrapped the head in a cloth you'd found nearby, "most vampires try to appear less threatening when important visitors are coming."
"I'm not most vampires. Besides, what's more intimidating than a collection of your enemies' heads? It's classic psychological warfare."
Alec shook his head. "Only you would consider decorating our chambers with severed heads 'psychological warfare'."
"It worked for Vlad the Impaler and he was merely human. Imagine what I can do as a vampire."
"I'd rather not," Alec replied dryly, though his eyes sparkled with amusement. "Come, my love. Let's dispose of the evidence before Aro sends Demetri to check on us."
"You're no fun," you grumbled, though you followed him willingly. "But I suppose you're right. We don't want to give the Romanians any excuses to back out of this meeting."
"Exactly," Alec agreed, taking your free hand in his. "We want them to come willingly to their own destruction."
You grinned at that. "Well, when you put it that wayâŚ"
The two of you worked quickly to dispose of the remains, setting fire to the bodies until nothing but ash remained. The forest would soon reclaim the evidence, leaving no trace of the violence that had transpired.
As you made your way back to the castle, Alec squeezed your hand. "Try to behave during the summit?"
"I always behave. My version of behaving just happens to be more memorable than most."
Alec laughed, a sound that none outside the Volturi ever heard. "That's why I love you."
"Among other things." you added with a wink, already anticipating the bloodshed to come. The Romanians had no idea what they were walking into and you couldn't wait to show them.
a/n : idk i just had an idea and thought it was cute lol
đđ
The throne room fell silent as soon as the doors were slammed shut, a rogue vampire squirming between the hold Demetri and Felix had on him.
âLet me go-â He hissed, âI did not know of this law!â
The vampire was pushed to his knees in front of the raven haired king, who tutted and clasped his hands together in thought. If he had barked out orders, you hadnât of known.
You werenât even paying attention.
Stood about a metre away, your mate stared down at the rogue.
Alecâs eyes were half lidded, glowering at the vampire in front of him whilst his lips pursed in concentration. His fingers were flexed in front of him, mist swirling in his palms as it all but begged to be released - you lost focus the second he twisted his wrist slightly to control it.
His arms rippled slightly at the movement, muscles tensing beneath the material of the silk button up he had chose to wear prior.
You stared at him shamelessly, feeling particularly proud to call him your own. My god, he was beautiful. Picture perfect in your eyes.
You shifted slightly as your thoughts drifted, images of all the things he could do - had done- to you with those hands flashing through your mind.
Brushing up your sides, pressing your wrists into the mattress, lips against your ear as he wrapped his slender fingers around your throat-
âAhem-â
You turned to the blonde next to you, who was side eyeing you. A solid warning glare if you had ever seen one.
You attempted to shake the thoughts from your head as much as possible, somehow managing to get through the trial with minimal thoughts distracting you. Aro dismissed both you and Jane, holding your mate back to help his coven brothers clean up the mess of the vampire - well what was a vampire.
What a gentleman.
As you stepped foot outside the doors of the throne room, your mates twin scoffed at you as you walked.
âYou are disgusting.â
You tilted your head in confusion, stopping mid corridor and staring at Jane in curiosity as she stared back at you flatly.
âYou were practically drooling over my brother, Y/N. My brother!â
You held your hands up in defense, âNuh-huh no i wasnât!â
She rolled her eyes. âHe was quite literally mid-torture and there you were staring at his hands like you wish it was your throat he had his hands wrapped around instead!â
You couldnât help the smirk that appeared on your face at the thought, and your sister in law scoffed in even more disgust, narrowing her eyes in a dirty glare.
âYou are foul! What is wrong with you-â
âWhatâs going on?â
Turning you saw the very man you were talking about, and his eyes softened when he met yours, moving forward to run a hand along your waist innocently.
âHello sweetface.â He pressed a kiss to your temple as Jane gagged.
âYour mate is insufferable.â
Alec frowned, âOh?â
Scrunching her nose up, the fiery blond confronted him as she glared at you, âSheâs practically in heat.â
You cringed, shaking your head. Alec however, looked rather smug as your gaze rose up to his in an attempt to defend yourself.
âAh, I see-â The fingers you had been fantasising about made their way up to brush a hair behind your hair, and Jane let out a cry of betrayal, hissing at her brother. She scowled at you both, throwing in her two cents before storming off.
âDonât encourage her, you pig! My god you two need to get some standards.â
