divescustos

[divescustos]

As she grasped my hands, I gave hers a squeeze. Had my heart still beat, I knew it would have been thudding hard and fast in my chest. It took everything in me not to seek out Bella's, the sound that had become a metronome for my life, giving me balance and rhythm. I wanted to ground myself with it, but I knew if I let my ears wander that much, I'd inevitably find the minds around her. Alice had done a valiant job keeping the dress from me, and I wasn't about to ruin it now.

I was fully drawn back by her serious tone. And as she spoke, I felt my throat tighten and a lump form. The tears would not come, could never gather and fall, but I felt their phantom presence all the same. I looked down at our hands as she spoke, the paleness we shared thanks to our natures. But much like I had liked to fancy my features changed over the years to better reflect Carlisle, I very much hoped my heart had even a touch of the love Esme's did.

"Esme," I said, voice cracking a little as I met her eyes. I sucked in my lips for a moment, trying to think of the right words. None that came to mind would say enough, but I could try. "Your son was the luckiest little boy, to have you. That you chose to share some of your love with me has been a true blessing. I know I haven't always been the best at showing it, but I love you dearly, and I always will."

I felt inordinately lucky to have had not one but two mothers that had loved me more than I had ever deserved. I bent down to kiss Esme's cheek, letting my eyes close and a shaky breath escape as I straightened up again.

The lump returned to my throat at the sight of the gift. Wordlessly, I held one hand out, silently requesting she help me with them.

"Well it's a good thing we can reattach them, then," Esme laughed, her grin impossibly growing bigger both in her own joy and witnessing that of Edward's.

She finally ceased her fiddling, instead opting to run her hands down the side of Edward's arms so her hands could find his own. It had been chaotic all morning; Alice was flitting between Bella and the occupants of this house determined, as Edward noticed, that everyone looked immaculate. Esme had just about greeted everyone she personally knew, making small talk and milling around other guests, but she hadn't wanted the ceremony to start without at least briefly catching Edward alone.

"You'll have to forgive Alice, I think it's the most fun she's had for decades." The last wedding was Alice's own and, unsurprisingly, she found it far more stressful than the hand she had played in helping this happy couple arrange theirs.

"I know you can read my thoughts," she began, "but I just wanted to thank you personally for allowing me to be your mother." Esme could feel the way her voice wished to break. Not yet, they hadn't even said 'I do'. "I couldn't have settled into this life without you, Edward. I wouldn't have been half as happy." She swallowed, forcing down the familiar ball in her throat. Luckily for Alice, she didn't have to worry about tears disturbing make-up. "You deserve this happiness so very much; watching you be alone for so long has hurt not only me, but Carlisle too."

Esme briefly ran her thumbs against the tops of Edward's knuckles before fiddling with her clutch bag. "Here, a present for the groom." She held out a small box between them containing a pair of cufflinks engraved with the Cullen crest. "I would say for good luck too, but I don't think you need it."

#wastheheart #☾ ⟶ ❝ v : the kingdom where nobody dies ❞ #they're crying (on the inside) i'm crying you're crying we're all crying

[divescustos]

sometimes i think about how edward is seventeen forever. just seventeen.

his mind will never fully mature, he'll always be the gangly teenager he was when carlisle changed him. he's learned a lot in his century of life, but some things can never change because of his nature. he never gets to grow up, a perpetual peter pan. he can watch his peers and even his siblings to a degree move on from the stage of life he's forever frozen in. even his own daughter will one day mature past him, and there's nothing he can do about it.

he was seventeen when his father died and suddenly he was seen as the man of the house. he tries to step up for his mother, but gets sick anyway, and so does she. he feels guilty for her running herself ragged trying to take care of him. he almost dies drowning from the fluid in his lungs, and then suffers from four days of agony before being told his entire life is now over, everyone he ever knew he can never see again, and many of them died regardless. he is part of an entire generation that watched the great war and then the spanish 'flu kill indiscriminately, and then watches it happen again, over and over.

he is impulsive and cruel and manipulative at times, but then he's also sweet and deeply caring and fiercely protective. he is terrified by loss, the trauma of it being his first everlasting memory. he pushes away those he fears hurting. his gift is a blessing and a curse. he feels responsibility for protecting the family, resents the rest of them (bar alice) for expecting him to do so. the rest of them have a partner and he feels the need to prove his worth to stay amongst them, especially after the disaster of his rebellious years.

he's suffered a loss of independence as our ideas of when we decide someone is now an adult have changed. he plays younger still for the sake of their cover story, giving up joys like his driving for years at a time in order to make things smoother for everyone else. he can read the minds of everyone around him but their lack of ability to do the same makes him feel lonely. he wonders how it would be if he weren't alone in his own head. he shares traumas that aren't his own to talk about, purely through memories he hears.

edward is a horror story, not because of his vampirism, but because he is seventeen. and he will only ever be seventeen.

#☾ ⟶ ❝ meta ❞ #this is mostly rambly nonsense but i get emotional over him ya know #honestly you could not pay me enough to be seventeen again

[divescustos]

Jasper had made the wise decision to give me a wide berth once we had returned from our hunting trip. My own nerves and excitement were quite enough for me to deal with, without having to put him through it as well. Emmett had punched me on the shoulder, made a lewd joke and then ducked out to find Rosalie. Alice was, of course, preoccupied with Bella, and Carlisle had been by my side for most of the morning, but was now downstairs sorting out last minute details. But I wasn't alone for long.

Seeing my mother in the doorway had a bright, wide grin stretching across my face. I'd seen the expression reflected in my family's thoughts these last few weeks, one I had never caught in a reflection or photograph – it felt alien, but still... I would cherish the fact that my mind would never let me forget how happy I was in this moment.

"Thank you," I said simply. Bending a little, I pressed a kiss to her forehead, letting my mind fill with memories of her wedding to Carlisle, the day I had seen them both at their happiest.

I let her fuss, offering her an amused huff at her teasing. I was glad she hadn't stayed away – while Carlisle had the official role of best man, Esme was just as important in my eyes.

"Alice has threatened to remove my hands if I disturb anything before the photographs, and I'm not entirely sure how serious she is about that."

Question Prompts

@divescustos asked: “ well, how do i look? ” (thank you!)

Her nerves were the same as they were for every other coven member's wedding. This was perhaps the most bitter sweet she had ever felt before witnessing her children marry; her first son in this life was finally marrying the girl he loved. There was relief too. They had all endured so much these past few years, this wedding felt both like an ending and fresh start for everyone.

Esme debated stopping by to see Edward before the service. She didn't want to intrude on such a special day— she would have ample time after the wedding and the honeymoon to catch up with him, after all. Still, he had calmed her nerves on her wedding day, stayed with her the whole morning and gave her away. Esme wanted to be able to do the same for him now.

"You look fantastic, Edward. Positively glowing," she answered, closing the space between them to smooth the collar of his shirt out. "I am so incredibly happy for you." Her hand rested against his shoulder, eyes flickering to find his face accompanied by a soft smile. Soon enough she was fiddling with the knot in his tie, making sure it was done properly and securely. "Nice to see your hair styled for once," she teased, "Bella won't know who's waiting for her at the end of the aisle."

#wastheheart #☾ ⟶ ❝ v : the kingdom where nobody dies ❞ #my edboy playlist gave me a thousand years while writing this thanks universe #also i weep over them

[divescustos]

𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒

“ am i not good enough? ”  

“ you’ve been so quiet. what’s on your mind? ”  

“ why did you help me? ”  

“ who do you fight for? ”  

“ why do you hate me? ”  

“ have you come to laugh at me in my miserable state? ”  

“ you’re not dating anyone, are you? ”  

“ i’ve got your back, okay? ”  

“ where do you think you’re going? ”  

“ how long have i been asleep? ”  

“ are you going to kill me? ”  

“ why can’t i come with you? ”  

“ we all have secrets, don’t we? ”  

“ did you want to be alone? ”  

“ why should i trust you? ”  

“ wait. did you hear that? ”  

“ promise me? ”  

“ why are you talking like we’ll never see each other again? ”  

“ do you remember anything at all? ”  

“ what? no witty remark? nothing clever to say? ”  

“ you wanna know what your problem is? ”  

“ may i have this dance? ”  

“ can i ask… what happened? ”  

“ how many people have you killed? how many? ”  

“ do you ever hear yourself? ”  

“ would you run away with me? ”  

“ could you be happy here with me? ”  

“ you can’t or you won’t? ”  

“ you slept with them, didn’t you? ”  

“ well, how do i look? ”  

“ after all you’ve done how can i possibly trust you? ”  

“ why can’t you let me in? what are you so afraid of? ”  

“ what did they do to you? ”  

“ so why’s it so important anyway? ”  

“ where have you been? ”  

“ why are you looking at me like that? ”  

“ why did you come? ”  

“ what are you doing out here by yourself? ”  

“ is… that my shirt you’re wearing? ”  

“ you… don’t like me very much, do you? ”  

“ why does it always have to be a fight with you? ”

“ why can’t you look me in the eye? ”  

“ can you forgive me? ”  

“ what if i never see you again? ”  

“ you were going to leave without saying goodbye? ”  

“ how about a little midnight snack? ”  

“ are you… smelling me? ”  

“ how did you get this scar? ”  

“ what do you want in exchange for it? ”  

“ what did you want to tell me? ”  

#☾ ⟶ ❝ meme ❞

[divescustos]

I just about resisted rolling my eyes again, but did as she asked. At one point I flipped on the radio to a quiet classical station, just to give us some background noise, even though my focus remained on her the entire time.

Pulling in, I found my curiosity piqued. I checked for any minds looking our way and grinning when I found none, was at her door in less than a second, offering out my hand.

"Lead the way," I said with a smile.

Bella grins. “Keep your eyes on the road,” she says, though she’s got a delighted expression. “I like being able to give you surprises. It makes them all the more special.” She kisses his hand again. “Turn right here, then into the parking lot to the right. We’re just about there.”

She loves that she can give him this. That she can still surprise him, when the rest of the world cannot. It gives her a feeling of uniqueness that she cannot replicate.

#mvndrvke #☾ ⟶ ❝ v : the glory of first love and all that ❞

[divescustos]

I had never imagined anything could be worse than the rare occasions Mother had paraded me out and forced me to endure her enthusing about my talents to her friends. She knew it bothered me, and the shade my cheeks could turn had surprised even me. I ached now at the memory, faded and incomplete though it was, yearning for just one more chance to hear her voice. But still, hearing it from Carlisle made me want to find a cave somewhere and spend my endless existence there.

A shudder ran down my spine with the mortification, and I focused instead on the information he had given me. Our nature still did not sit easy on my shoulders, but learning of the history and behaviours that had been kept secret from humanity for millennia was fascinating. I had tried not to overwhelm him with questions, worried it would only end up irritating him, but I pushed as much as I dared.

"Nomads don't tend to form large groups, do they?" I asked, remembering what he had told me. Those groups tended to be bonded pairs with maybe one other in rare circumstances. I supposed we fell into that definition, even if we weren't traditional nomads. I knew he had moved around, but not nearly so frequently as those with a more traditional diet.

"Is there anything you need me to do while you're gone?" I continued, seguing. It seemed a sensible question if he was leaving me alone.

❛ you hardly need me to tell you that you've become nothing short of angelic in beauty since your change , edward. it would be a discredit to you if i didn't tell every woman i come across the truth. YOU'RE A CATCH. ❜ carlisle deeply enjoys the new playful nature he's unlocked since having a constant companion -- years of loneliness had not suited him at all. besides , it didn't hurt to give the boy some ego boosts -- god knows edward was too hard on himself.

❛ as for age ... it's more rare , &* rarely seen in covens. most groups reach a size that becomes ... well ; something that can't be ignored. ❜ by the volturi , of course. they feared any group getting too large -- too powerful. ❛ the denali's faced an encounter with the risks of overpopulation once -- came out two shorter than before. but i've met many an immortal older than myself. younger vampires just tend to be ... well , chaotic , if left without a mentor. covens are frowned upon by the volturi , but being a nomad is a difficult life. it's a blessing to want to survive , i suppose. ❜

#maimedaffair #☾ ⟶ ❝ v : offered a second chance ❞

[divescustos]

The first time I had caught sight of myself following my own transformation, I had been utterly horrified. The stranger in the mirror had had some superficial similarities to the reflection I was accustomed to – even if the hair was a little longer than I remembered, it at least remained a familiar shade. But everything else was like my features had been twisted by some unseen hand until even my own face was unrecognisable. And the eyes. The bottle green were replaced by that blood red crimson, and I still hadn't quite adjusted to the gold that had eventually come in.

I wanted to say something along those lines, assure her it wasn't an unusual reaction, but I was trying not to respond to her thoughts rather than her words. It was bad enough I could offer her no privacy, bringing attention to it would only be worse.

"You needn't worry about the cost," I murmured, giving her a small smile before focusing on my task once more. "Carlisle has said often enough he has more than he knows what to do with. And since we have no need to purchase things like food, there is more than spare enough to make sure you're comfortable."

I knew Carlisle was always willing to offer her up some of our old things for hunting clothes should she be too worried. I had to concur, even if only on the practicality of it; hunting in long skirts would be most annoying.

"But knowing in your mind is different than knowing," I replied, hoping my meaning came across. My gift had given me insights into the mind I had never really understood before, and one of those was the difference between telling yourself something and knowing it for certain. "It does get easier. It may take awhile, but I promise it does. I suppose I had it easier. Carlisle's mind was a very calming place to be, when I first awoke."

Her reflection looked so familiar yet simultaneously like a stranger. Everytime she caught herself in the mirror, it felt as if a thought she had just grasped slipped from her fingers, unable to be retrieved ever again— as if the realisation was on the tip of her tongue before slipping her mind entirely.

Who was she?

Esme's fingers slightly tightened around Edward's hand. It was easier to concentrate on the cloth that ran across her arm than the boy sat opposite her. At least his touch was real unlike the ghost of any sort of recollection she may have.

"I should be more careful, clothes are inexpensive as long as you don't have to keep buying them," she mumbled, more to herself than Edward. "I don't want to waste Carlisle's money with my carelessness." Guilt rested as naturally in her chest as the scorching flames in her throat.

Her brow pulled together as thoughts raced, only stopping with Edward's voice. She hasn't realised exactly just how tense she had become. "Oh, no, no it's fine!" she assured with a genuine but perhaps practised smile. "I... don't want to be alone either." Something deeper begged for company beyond the anxieties of newborn hunger and unpredictability. Why did loneliness scare her so?

"And I know... I know you don't wish to harm me." Both Carlisle and Edward's actions were enough to confirm that for her. "Everything almost feels unbearable," she finally admitted as eyes concentrated on the saturated cloth. "Does... Does it get easier?"

#wastheheart #☾ ⟶ ❝ v : offered a second chance ❞

[divescustos]

For all I still felt like I didn't deserve her love, I let myself have it, if only for a moment. For just a moment, all we were was mother and son, and I drank in the comfort she was willing to give. I sighed, and let some of the stiffness leave my shoulders. I had missed her desperately, her easy touches. I had never been on my own before, not for any extended period and despite knowing from Carlisle what it had been like, it was different to experience first hand.

"You're so much better than the way any of them treated you," I whispered, unable to help responding to where her thoughts had gone. Her parents, her husband... How anyone could treat one such as Esme in such a manner had always baffled me, and it likely always would. I had heard the thoughts of countless men I would deem monsters, even Charles himself, and it still brought me up short. "I don't know what I would do without you."

I had once felt guilt for the way my love for Esme had grown, the role I had allowed her to fill in my heart. I had worried I was disrespecting my human mother, that she would think me abandoning her. But I could see now that no love was finite – and if it brought us both comfort, happiness, then why should I not have two women I saw as my mother?

"I shouldn't be surprised," I said eventually, cheek still resting on her shoulder. "But Carlisle was right. I should have just told you all of this from the start. When I was beginning to doubt my place, when I felt my control slipping... I should have just told you. I'm – I'm going to do my best not to keep secrets like this again."

She visibly relaxed as soon as he rested completely against her. She couldn't help the way she naturally found herself rubbing his back, only holding him tighter when she felt his arm across her own back. "You know I don't think you have to apologise, Edward... but I know how guilty you would remain if I didn't accept it." They had already been through so much turmoil, mentally and physically. Esme couldn't bear to contribute any more to it. "So I accept it."

His admission causes her un-beating heart to clench. His guilt is so familiar to her; it is what saw the end of her human life. If it had simply been her that suffered and not her son... guilt was hard to carry by oneself. Without even thinking, she quietly stated, "then allow me to carry it for a moment." Her offer was born from experience which she had to learn painfully throughout the years. "We can carry it together, learn how to move past it together."

Vaguely, she recalled a similar conversation with her own parents. She greeted them on the porch, rain dripping from the rim of her hat. Her voice trembled as she revealed the truth about Charles and their faces blurred as they denied her truth. The iron ball around her ankle becoming heavier with the burden they refused to share.

She would not make that mistake with Edward. She would not be her parent's daughter.

"You don't get to decide what I think you deserve, Edward." She knew that would be a frustrating truth for him, but Esme was equally (if not more) stubborn sometimes. "And yes, I was upset," she agreed, lips pressing a kiss into his hair, "but grief is love unable to go anywhere. That's what upset me the most."

#wastheheart #☾ ⟶ ❝ v : welcomed back like the prodigal ❞ #he just needed his mom ;~;

[divescustos]

Carlisle had gone into town to acquire some proper clothing for our new guest, leaving me alone with her. My gift and my speed would assist me should anything go awry, but he had seemed fairly sure that it would not. I couldn't say I shared his optimism, but he was the one with experience of newborn vampires, not I. She seemed amiable enough to staying with us, at least for the time being.

The heat in her throat echoed uncomfortably in mine, but I did my best to ignore it. I was used to Carlisle's well controlled thirst by now, but this was like my own newborn flames all over again. I swallowed down the venom that pooled in my mouth as I gathered a cloth and filled the bowl I'd pulled out with warm water. The temperature really didn't matter, but it felt cruel to give her anything but comforts.

The thoughts I had heard during her transformation kept returning to me. Our nature would never allow me to forget them, but the best I could do was keep her secret for her. I still felt unsure about her inclusion in our little life that we had carved out, but I didn't wish to treat her badly. Carlisle had had no ill intentions when he brought her home form the morgue, I knew that from his thoughts as well as his words, but my heart still ached a little at it. And that only annoyed me further – the emotion felt childish beyond belief.

I had kept my movements even slower than a human when I had sat beside her and began my task, her hand only resting lightly in my own when I started there. Even so, I could see the tension in her, which I did my best to bring no attention to. I didn't want to make her feel self-conscious.

"It's alright," I murmured, dipping the cloth back in the water and looking up into her face before running it up her arm. "You should have seen me when I first hunted. Carlisle said it's quite normal to make a mess."

I gave a few more swipes of her newly granite skin before speaking again.

"Neither of us wish you any harm," I said softly, pausing my movements and removing my hands from her vicinity. "I can go if you prefer. I just remembered how I hadn't wanted to be alone – at the start."

Non-verbal Prompts

@divescustos asked: [ clean ] sender cleans blood off of receiver's body

The burning had somewhat muted itself, but Esme could still feel the burning at the back of her throat— the desire for more than just animals' blood.

In a way, she was glad that there was nothing but vast vegetation surrounding this place. If she was as clumsy at sinking her teeth into a human's jugular as she was an animal's, then the town would definitely have something to talk about.

It had barely been an hour since awaking in this life, her eyes catching her off guard every time she dared glance in a mirror. She was wearing what looked like torn clothing, something she assumed she'd been wearing when Carlisle had changed her, but she couldn't understand how she'd managed to get blood on her back and matted so stubbornly in her hair.

She may have clumsily taken a deer down, but she was hardly that messy.

From context alone, she had assumed both men had not wished to change her; there was also little point until she had managed her first meal.

Edward was the other one in this house. She had expected someone older when hearing the two men speaking during her transformation, but seeing his face caused puzzlement, both in his youth and the familiarity he had, but unable to place why.

She had already started working the knots out of curls, but of course she broke the comb. It was fine, she could work with fragments as long as they retained their teeth. The knock at her door made her startle, but she called whoever it was in. She expected Carlisle before Edward, but she wasn't unpleased about Edward's company, especially when he explained his attentions; a warm bowl of water and cloth remained tucked under his arm.

Esme agreed to his aid, knowing she would be unable to see where all the blood was. Yet, even as she sat concentrating on hair, Esme couldn't stop the way her muscles would tense with every wipe of the cloth from Edward.

At first, she tried to continue with her hair, but despite her best efforts, Esme found she simply couldn't ignore Edward. Perhaps it would be easier to watch him— something told her 'just in case'.

So she turned, an apologetic smile adorning blood dried lips. "You really don't have to do this... I'm not entirely sure why I'm so messy. It's actually rather embarrassing."

#wastheheart #☾ ⟶ ❝ v : offered a second chance ❞ #my Emotions!!!

[divescustos]

Better to see myself as the whole, bad and good, and work with the 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 of it.

𝙳𝙸𝚅𝙴𝚂𝙲𝚄𝚂𝚃𝙾𝚂 : indie and selective edward cullen of the twilight saga. book based. written by holly ( she/her ). first person. promo credit.

#☾ ⟶ ❝ self promo ❞

[divescustos]

I listened as he changed and watched through his mind as he sent the message to Esme. It felt like not all that long ago, we'd just leave a note, if anything at all. I wasn't all that interested in the technology myself – I had one of the tiny silver things, Alice saw them becoming rather ubiquitous, and had already invested in a few promising companies.

I grinned as he joined me, choosing not to answer his question directly and instead take a running leap over the river. Ever since I had awoken in this life, my ability to run had brought me some of my greatest joys.

"Are you coming?" I called teasingly, ready to race off again.

“We can at least pretend to be out for a simple hike,” Carlisle points out. “I’ll be right back.”

It takes seconds, really, though Carlisle has been a vampire long enough that it feels like minutes. A normal pace is too fast, but it’s his way of life. It’s what he knows.

He comes bouncing down the steps to join Edward behind the house. “I texted Esme so she’d know where we were,” he says. He never brings his phone with him, just his pager in case there’s a work emergency. He’s not on call, but Carlisle doesn’t feel right going away without it. Even if he’s hundreds of miles away.

“Ready?”

#mvndrvke #☾ ⟶ ❝ v : an unending unchanging midnight ❞

[divescustos]

The soothing fingers in my hair had some old memory pushing at the edge of my mind, just dim as all human memories were. I didn’t chase it, letting the old comfort blend into the new as my head found its way to her shoulder. Once there, I let my eyes fall closed, a shudder running through my body. As I breathed in her scent, a little of the tension left my shoulders. I had missed my mother so dearly sometimes it had been a physical pain.

I should have known that Esme would never hold my actions against me. She loved me far more than I deserved. As did Carlisle — not once had he let me hear even the slightest bit of judgement for my actions, despite how well I knew his beliefs. I had known that night that I was hurting him emotionally far worse than our physical fight. I had never shied away from being honest about how I felt regarding our nature, and he had never held it against me. But I had raged against him, thrown all he had done for me in his face. It all felt so childish now.

“I’m sorry, Esme,” I whispered, wincing at her memories. It was not the first time the words had passed my lips, and it was unlikely to be the last. “If I had just hurt myself, I think it would be easier to… to do as Carlisle said. Move past it. But knowing what I did to the both of you? It’s like a rock in my chest. I don’t know what to do with it.”

My foolish dreams of being a soldier had come back to haunt me ever since I returned. My gift ensured that the men I murdered truly had done evil, unlike those sent to war and order to kill those simply born in a different country than them. But that didn’t soothe the images of their terror filled eyes in the seconds before I dispatched them, thoughts incoherent. Would it have been different behind a gun rather than using my bare hands and teeth?

“I’m glad you didn’t,” I murmured, wrapping a tentative arm around her back. “I don’t know if I’d have been able to work up the courage a second time. I don’t deserve either of you.” I rubbed at my dry eyes, yet again wondering if it would be easier if I could just cry. "I didn't mean to upset you like this, it's why I didn't want to say anything."

For a moment, that's how they remained; her fingers lazily making patterns through Edward's hair as he speaks, confessions spilling from lips like those she would hear whispered in church. She does not force his head to meet her shoulder, merely coaxing it there and encouraging him to leave it there. The dust particles orbited one another as planets do in the night sky; it was the first thing bloody eyes noticed after her change. She still thought the sight was beautiful now.

"I spent the last few years of my life angry, Edward," she finally whispered. "It ate me from the inside out until there was nothing left at all. All it did was make me hate myself, too." Ultimately it is what made her jump. Her anger, not often felt, scared her with its power. "I had my every choice taken from me... how could I deny you the choice to leave?"

Her voice broke, her nose finding itself in Edward's hair in an effort to compose herself again. "We could never do that, I could never do that," she murmured into his hair.

Shifting only to rest in a more comfortable position, Esme couldn't prevent the slow nod in response to Edward's words. "Some of it was disappointment in himself," she noted. "So desperate to prove his father wrong about our kind... He felt as if your choice was his failure, but he has yet to realise what he sees as failure is merely our nature."

It had been one, seemingly unending nightmare in the wake of Edward's departure. Carlisle threw himself more intensely into his work and Esme painted the days away to fill loneliness. Most of her pieces had found the fireplace soon after; they felt too sad to even glance at again.

"We didn't want to move... In case you decided you wanted to return..." Esme fell quiet with her admission. She was starting to lose the hope she had clung to for four years. "But sooner or later we would be forced to move on. I think we both decided this was a place we would never return to once we left."

#wastheheart #☾ ⟶ ❝ v : welcomed back like the prodigal ❞

[divescustos]

My fingers had stilled upon the keys when the thoughts broke through a brief moment of distraction. I found my piano one of the best ways to offer what privacy I could without having to physically leave the house — concentrating on playing meant I wasn’t constantly aware of the extra voices in my head. They remained present, but my focus was elsewhere.

For a second I had wondered if Carlisle had returned early and snuck into the house without saying hello. He was, after all, the usual culprit for medical jargon to emanating from his office. But then I realised the mental voice was not that of my father, but instead our newcomer.

I still felt a little off around Esme. She had been very pleasant, despite the horrific circumstances that had brought her here. But a part of me still felt ashamed for the childish reaction I had had upon Carlisle’s revelation of what he had done. The fear of replacement, the jealousy. He waited centuries before creating a companion, and then chose another within just a few years? But I could see in his mind that that hadn’t been his intention, and so I forced those knee-jerk reactions down. My new concern was just what Carlisle had ‘saved’ her from.

I would never reveal to him what I had heard of Esme’s past. I hadn’t even breathed a word to her of the pain and suffering I had glimpsed in her mind. I knew there was nothing I could do about the past for her, and revealing that I had such intimate information would likely only make her self conscious. What I could do was aid in her distractions, should she need them.

Standing from my piano, it was a mere blink later I was in my room, hunting through the mess that had accumulated on my desk. Carlisle had lent me the latest copy of the British Medical Journal, and it felt like it would give me something to discuss with Esme without it being a total minefield.

As I stepped into the study, I was caught off guard by her errant thought. My step stuttered for a moment, and I stilled in the middle of the floor, journal forgotten in my hand.

“Please don’t feel… embarrassed about your thoughts,” I said softly, choosing not to address the questions directly. At least not yet. “I do endeavour not to judge, and I especially wouldn’t judge you, regardless.”

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@divescustos (thank you!) | From here.

She was reading, tucked quietly away in Carlisle's study. When she had exhausted fiction, she turned to his many medical journals instead; she was intrigued by the workings of the human body. How strange to be so acquainted with a shell that for all appearances was the same, yet frighteningly different.

She had to retire the same journals as soon as they breached the landscape of pregnancy. It was all too raw still.

Tired but unable to sleep, Esme instead brought her knees to her chest, chin resting atop to watch gloomy clouds release their anguish on the world below.

As a human, she had always enjoyed the sound of rain hitting against rooves and windows. Now there was a deeper, almost magical aspect to the same pastime. Every droplet could be heard more clearly, the sounds bleeding into one another and helping thoughts ease when she could not retire to bed.

Edward was not necessarily interrupting anything, but she couldn't say she was expecting his company either. The dynamics of the house still confused her. He found her statuesque, unblinking but still observing.

The thought came rather accidentally.

"What have I been to you? What would you have me be?"

There was brief relief that she had not spoken the thought out loud, yet almost immediately she was struck with the realisation that he would hear regardless. And so again she froze, muscles not daring to move nor eyes daring to see anything but the view outside. Perhaps Edward would be kind and play ignorant... She hoped he would at least.

#wastheheart #☾ ⟶ ❝ v : offered a second chance ❞ #my god this boy is WORDY #also hi i'm emosh esme please

[divescustos]

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#☾ ⟶ ❝ meme ❞

[divescustos]

I held still as she came near, wanting to lean closer, rest my head against her shoulder, but not feeling deserving of such a thing. I knew if I was to voice such a thought, she’d be upset. And I was already upsetting her enough.

It was brief, the flash of a thought I caught in her mind before she was beside me, but I still felt stricken. Of course Esme, wonderful, loving, good Esme, would try to take the blame for my own actions in some way. As if what had been done to her and her own thoughts about it were in any way my business. I had always striven to give Carlisle privacy — we were both aware I knew what he thought, but if I never brought it up, what was the harm? It had been different with Esme, with the pain in her mind that I couldn’t ignore. Instead, I had stewed in it. Used it as a flimsy excuse.

The sharp pinpricks of pain ended as she pulled my hands away from my head, quickly replaced by her soothing fingers. The movement had a deep ache blooming in my chest, grief filling my veins, faded memories gathering in mind, as well as a few overly sharp ones from my transformation.

“I wish you were,” I whispered, letting my head hang deeper. “I wish you were angry.”

I had been terrified at what I would need to do to even get them to speak to me, but their complete acceptance hadn’t even crossed my mind. It felt like my guilt was stored in my chest with nowhere to go. I couldn’t be prosecuted, by the human world or our own — the humans could never know and our own kind wouldn’t see the problem. I wanted someone to treat me with the disdain I deserved, but I should have known that would never have been Carlisle or Esme.

“I wanted to come home after a year or so,” I admitted. “But I all I could think of was Carlisle’s face before I left and how hurt he was and I was too much of a coward to face you both. I thought, if I just stayed away, it would get easier.” I swallowed unnecessarily. “I also wasn’t sure I’d be able to find you. I figured you’d move as soon as you could after the way I left.”

By the time I’d stormed off that last night, Carlisle had had a new scar in the shape of my teeth on his shoulder, and I’d had a broken nose and wrist from him trying to fight me off.

She stood as quickly as he folded. Her apron was removed without much care, ripping it from her waist and discarding it upon her desk which otherwise was adorned with paint supplies.

As quick as vampiric speed allowed her to be, she couldn't help the way stillness enveloped her with the mention of Charles. He had always remained an unspoken secret between them; why elaborate vocally when Edward was privy to the things he had done and said to her through thought alone?

The guilt came unexpectedly... If she had controlled her thoughts better perhaps she could have lessened Edward's anguish. If Carlisle had not had the chance to change her—

Before she knew it, she was beside Edward on the floor. To think of Charles suffering... She swallowed despite a dry mouth, eyes studying the grains of wood in floorboards. There was a private part of her that felt some sort of satisfaction he suffered as he deserved to, but she was unsure how that realisation made her feel. She did not want to be like him— revelling in other's pain.

Esme released a breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding. She listened attentively, lifting her head in time to see how Edward's fingers pulled at his hair.

It was instinctual the way she pried his fingers away, her arm closest to him resulting to pulling him to her. God, she had missed him; she had missed his scent, his music, his presence. "It was a noble cause," she whispered eventually. Her own fingers came to play against Edward's scalp. "Maybe an excuse... but those types of men wouldn't have anyone to miss them."

She habitually chewed the inside of her cheek with that comment. She didn't condone his behaviour only in the sense it added to his own anger; her sympathy for his victims was minimal.

"I wish you reached out, Edward." Esme hated to think of him alone and seething. Nothing to ease his frustrations but fangs against the throats of guilty men. Even then, their blood was never enough. "We were never angry— never. Not even now."

#wastheheart #☾ ⟶ ❝ v : welcomed back like the prodigal ❞ #frankly as is her right #edward will not fight her cuddles should she choose to give them

[divescustos]

It was still an adjustment to have their mental voices joining my own again. Their minds were as familiar to me as their speaking voices, their scents, their faces. For all I could perfectly recall the once easy balance of feigning ignorance and wryly acknowledging their internal monologue, now I felt like I was just a little off. A step behind the routine. It brought an increasingly frequent wave of shame crashing over me. It was my own fault I felt like this – my fault I had hurt them both so.

"I..." I began and immediately trailed off, teeth once more digging into my lower lip as I considered. When I found my voice again, it was soft, quiet. "I think I convinced myself I was okay. For a lot of it. I've always known I'm entirely too stubborn for my own good, and I didn't want to recognise what I already knew."

I was dancing around what I really wanted to say. Unable to remain hovering, I folded myself to the floor, letting my head fall into my hands. It didn't do me much good – there was no relief needed from standing still, after all – but it did allow me to hide my eyes for the time being.

"It started with Charles," I breathed. It felt right to start with the beginning. If I was to make my confession, I should ensure it was complete. Let her choose if she still wished not to think badly of me by the end. "I was so – so angry, when I left. And I wanted someone worthy of that anger. And he was all I could think of, so I... It wasn't a quick death. I regret that. I never did it again. All of them after that, I made it quick." I was making excuses, I couldn't help myself. "I deluded myself into thinking that if I chose the worst men I could find, used my gift to make certain of it, and then dispatched them swiftly, what I was doing wasn't so bad." I sighed and twisted my fingers into my hair. "I was so arrogant at the start."

The creaking of floorboards interrupted her attention. She shifted upon her stool, the paintbrush finding the ridge of the easel; care was taken that the brush remained away from a nearly finished piece.

Despite the joy in Edward's return, Esme couldn't ignore the tension that had brewed beneath the surface. Edward's words otherwise confirmed what Esme was unsure of—just who wished to keep truths from her—but it did not resolve her frustration. In the world of immortality, Esme was the newest of the three, but she was hardly blind to a vampire's existence and nature. What Carlisle taught made them outliers of their kind. If anything, Edward had encouraged his nature, nothing more. How could she think it cruel when men such as Charles had no excuse to behave how they did?

The thought left as quickly as it came. Getting used to Edward's ability again was taking longer than she wished it to.

She made sure to face him properly. Her hands found a stained towel in efforts to remove dried paint from skin. "You're already wrong if you believe I think badly of you," she started. Her eyes purposely held eye contact as if to make a point. "And wrong again to believe I either have the power to absolve you of anything or even have the desire to do so."

Her hands found her aproned lap with fingers anxiously working her wedding ring. "I just want to know the truth. Four years is a long time, Edward." Speaking his name causes her voice to break. She has become so use to mentioning it. "I just want to know you were okay."

#wastheheart #☾ ⟶ ❝ v : welcomed back like the prodigal ❞ #write however you like!! i never mind mixing tenses between replies :D #also poor boy needs his mom but feels guilty for needing his mom

[divescustos]

@wihlted replied to your post “@wihlted : there's more to the story, but...”:

eddy boi why are you giving her the What For and making her say things!!!!

​he's a very talented pianist, he needs drama to live

#☾ ⟶ ❝ ooc ❞ #wihlted #reasons edward is dramatic: born in the 1900s. vampire. but most of all: lifelong pianist.