RSS

Tag Archives: canon

VampSlash Roundup in the TwiKinkFest

The TwiKinkFest is “officially” complete, but there are still unclaimed prompts that are just begging to be written, many of which are vampslash prompts. Visit the tumblr blog for rules and procedures, and then check out the spreadsheet to see what’s left.

Without further ado, VampSlash in the TwiKinkFest! (NOTE: asterisks [**] denote fics added to this list since the last update.)

Bareback Mountain by Fr333bird
Pairing: Felix/Emmett
Word Count: 3,601
Summary: Felix and Emmett have always longed for someone of equal size and strength to spar with. They meet secretly once a year to give in to their basest urges, hunting and fighting. This year one thing leads to another.
Prompt: Vampslash! Felix and Emmeett have both longed for years for someone of equal size and strength to spar with. Despite the fact that their covens are at odds, they meet secretly once a year to give in to their basest urges – hunting and fighting. This time around, their wrestling becomes heated and sexy and turns into hot vampy fucking. Bonus points for unexpected tenderness mid-fuck and bloodplay.
My thoughts: Emmett? Check. Vamp hunting? Check. Hot vampy fucking? Check. Bottom!Emmett? I’m fucking dead.

**Body, remember by rhythm junkie
Pairing: Demetri/Mike
Word Count: 4,902
Summary: [see prompt]
Prompt: Marking with bruises. Slash, any pairing except Edward/Jasper, vamp/human. For example, vamp Garrett loves to grip boyfriend Mike’s wrists/throat/other body part a little too tightly, feeling the blood pool and watching it form a bruise under delicate human skin. I’d like this to be completely consensual and enjoyed by both men. No heavy pain play or D/s themes please.
My thoughts: This one wasn’t at all what I expected, but it exceeded any expectation I had. Something that stuck with me was the way the author was somehow able to evoke the senses – as I said in my review to her, I feel like I felt this story, rather than read it.

**Crescent Moon by dellaterra
Pairing: Jasper/?
Word Count: 6,787
Summary: The first bite was unintended… A very AU tale of what happened after Jasper’s escape from Maria, told from his rescuer’s POV. Rated M for M/M vamp slash, biting, and scarification. Written for the Twi Kink Fest. Read warning first.
Prompt: Jasper’s scars cover his body. His mate (slash pairing) wants to love on his scars, claim his scars, so they become representative of something beautiful. Biting them to create new scars is totally acceptable. Mate can be any vamp but preferably not Edward.
My thoughts: In the interest of full disclosure, this was one of my prompts, so I’ll try to tone down the squeeing. I will say, however, that this filled the prompt better than I could possibly have imagined. dellaterra took the prompt and put a very real, very beautiful story behind it. The story is told in first person POV and we don’t find out the speaker until the very end, but that’s okay because it’s Jasper’s story. Please do read the warning, I admit to a little bit of squick at one point, but it was an absolutely wonderful story and you’re doing a disservice to yourself if you don’t read it.

**Do or Die by vampireisthenewblack
Pairing: Edward/Carlisle
Word Count: 4,733
Summary: For the Twilight Kink Fest. Prompt: Fuck or Die. NM AU. Edward/Carlisle. Vampslash. NC-17.
Prompt: Fuck or Die, Edward. I don’t care how it happens. Maybe an evil vampire injects E w/vampire semen and the result is that he needs vamp semen to survive, needs it daily, worse than blood. Without it he’s weak, in pain…dying. He can take it orally or anally. Craves it all ways. As long as he gets enough he’s stable. Any vamp can satisfy him but I’d like to see Jasper or C or Em even claim/demand the sole responsibility for keeping E alive.
My thoughts: Like just about anything vampireisthenewblack writes, this is angsty but delicious. It features a painfully broken Edward for whom you can’t help feeling sorry. I won’t spoil it, but my favorite bit is at the very end where we see a beautifully protective side of Carlisle that will make any Carlward shipper’s heart happy.

**End Game by ArcadianMaggie
Pairing: Emmett/Jasper/Mike
Word Count: 6,225
Summary: The next time Mike enters the locker room after practice, the sound of running water is enough to make him burn. He knows Emmett’s just on the other side of that wall. Written for the Kink Fest. PWP. Slash. Mature content.
Prompt: Double penetration. M/M/M. At least one vamp, though I’d prefer the guy getting penetrated be human. Emmett comes to mind as a penetrator, but that’s not necessarily a requirement. And I wouldn’t be opposed to two vamps doing the penetration of one human. Not at all…
My thoughts: This was another of my prompts in the kinkfest and I was thrilled that ArcadianMaggie picked it up, and then doubly thrilled with how she wrote it. The building sexual tension is palpable (thank God for Jasper!) and the little ways in which Jasper and Emmett entice Mike into a sexual liaison were absolutely delicious. This fic is exactly what the prompt asked for and is perfect for it. Just remember that this is, in fact, a vampslash story.

For A Pack of His Own by anon
Pairing: Jacob/Sam/Paul
Word Count: ~1,300
Summary: [see prompt]
Prompt: In order to establish his status as alpha, Jacob forces his pack to submit to him. Sam immediately offers himself on all fours and this is where Jake starts. Each pack member reacts differently. Paul refuses to submit and is forced after a fight in human form. Bonus for bloody nose and mouth. Double bonus if Paul sucks Jake’s cock while bleeding. Jake should hold Paul down the whole time, telling him that he will submit.
My thoughts: Short, well-done, and fills the prompt perfectly. As a warning, this falls pretty solidly into the non-con category. So take that as your warning if that’s a hard limit for you.

**My Wolf by CherBella
Pairing: Carlisle/Sam
Word Count: 10,251
Summary:
 TwiKinkFest story: To Look Into Their Eyes Forever Imprints Your Heart, To Hear Their Howls Forever Marks Your Soul, To Connect With Them Forever Bonds Your Spirits… Two lonely enemies destined to be together.
Prompt: I want first time animalistic outdoor sex, vamp or wolf or vamp/wolf with trees breaking, boulders cracking, etc. Could be after a fight or a tragic loss. High emotion fueling primal need with no thought to the destruction, complete letting go & unleashing of strength. Preferred pairings Edward/Jacob, Edward/Seth, but any pairing is fine, het & femme included!
My thoughts: Carlisle moves to Forks sans family and a few days later Sam shows up as his neighbor. Carlisle regularly goes running, both to clear his head and to hunt, and soon a wolf is matching his strides in the forest. Carlisle is remarkably unintuitive when it comes to these two things, but it appears that Sam’s his singer, so he must be forgiven. This fic features voyeur!Carlisle AND bottom!Carlisle, neither of which are versions of Carlisle I think we see enough of. And the fist time animalistic outdoor sex? Yum.

No Consequence by beckybrit
Pairing: Alec/Jane
Word Count: 5,094
Summary: To combat boredom, Alec and Jane toy with their victims before feasting on them. Warning: M/M/F scenes, incest and main character death/torture.
Prompt: Pain play & possible twincest. To combat boredom, Alec and Jane toy with their victims before feasting on them. I’m thinking a good cop (Alec)/bad cop (Jane) scenario. I’ll leave it up to the author to determine how sexual things get, but I’m open to pretty much anything, including a threesome (or moresome) involving twincest.
My thoughts: Um… *squirms*… so apparently I enjoy twincest. Or perhaps it was the bloodplay and the treatment of vampires like they’re actually vampires and enjoy the taste of blood. Whatever it was, this whole story really worked for me. Though I admit a moment of heartclench when beckybrit revealed Alec and Jane’s plaything. Still, it really worked.

Pack Bonding by Fr333bird
Pairing: Seth/Sam
Word Count: 4,285
Summary: Seth is new to the pack and has to take part in a rite of passage. Contains explicit sex acts with more than one partner, a little dub-con at first. Unashamedly kinky but also kind of sweet. Seth/wolfpack. [Warnings: dub-con at first. Voyeur Leah only – no incest.]
Prompt: Wolfpack gang bang with Seth on the receiving ed. Bonus points if it’s part of a rite of passage within the pack. Prefer human form and slash only, but it’s okay if Leah gets in on the action, too. Dub-con okay if author feels it necessary to get things started, but no non-con, please.
My thoughts: This could totally be canon. A wonderfully twisted canon that would never have crossed Stephenie Meyer’s mind, but canon nonetheless. Seth was totally in character – trusting, open, caring – and I absolutely buy this as a pack initiation.

**Passion Flower by SqueakyZorro
Pairing: Carlisle/Aro
Word Count: 3,544
Summary: [see prompt]
Prompt: Aro has been trying to seduce Carlisle since he arrived in Volterra. He’s even had Chelsea reinforce Carlisle’s bond with Aro. Yet Carlisle continues to resist, as Aro is mated. Aro eventually resorts to placing a plant in C’s room, its pollen rumored to incite uncontrollable lust when in bloom. sex!pollen
My thoughts: I think the verbal ‘foreplay’ that Carlisle and Aro inevitably engage in whenever they’re together, sexually or not, is my favorite part, and this doesn’t disappoint. Oh, the sex is pretty hot, too. 😉

Prey by kgq
Pairing: Edward/James
Word Count: 3,836
Summary: [see prompt]
Prompt: I’d like to read some bloodlapping in vampslash preferably but het would do too. During sex or in a non-sexual situation, but with hidden or clear sexual context. Please.
My thoughts: This was a little hard for me to follow at times, but I absolutely love the premise. And as much as James is a sadistic dick in the original, I kind of love the Edward/James pairing. And (final “and”, I promise) the bloodlapping in this? Jesus. Dead.

Red Strawberries by Miss Dare
Pairing: Edward/Jasper
Word Count: 4,677
Summary: Edward loves how pretty Jasper looks wearing mascara. But that’s only the start of it.
Prompt: Ooh, some forced feminization with Jasper/Edward pairing please. There’s so little of this out there but what there is I’ve loved.
My thoughts: Forced fem really isn’t my thing, but this was very well done. I love the established, loving relationship, and the rimming – UNF – the rimming was top notch.

Pairing: Edward/Jasper
Word Count: 3,846
Summary: [see prompt]
Prompt: Edward and Jasper want to help Carlisle overcome his shame for homosexual urges which he can barely admit to himself. They fuck in increasingly filthy ways when they know he’s near, until Carlisle can’t help hiimself and jacks off while watching. Vamp preferred.
My thoughts: If the prompt doesn’t entice you to read this, I don’t know what will. Quasi-accidental voyeur!Carlisle, and kinda exhibitionist Ed/Jas. Delicious.

**The Man You Make of Me by theladyingrey42
Pairing: Carlisle/Edward
Word Count: 4,391
Summary: “He was all long limbs and soft lips, hair the color of walnut set to flame. Even polluted with disease, his blood smelled sweet. Like he was meant for me. Made for me. And so I took him.” ExC, vampslash. For the TwiKinkFest.
Prompt: Carlisle/Edward. I want a possessive Carlisle. In character, he’s the voice of reason all the time, but when it comes to Edward, don’t cross him. Claiming Edward of some sort. I’d prefer Vamp/Vamp, but any works. Marks from the “claiming”. Bareback. Maybe Edward has been flirting, trying to push Carlisle. Please!
My thoughts: This is exactly everything that vampslash Carlward should be. It’s possessive and needy and vampy and violent and perfectly lovely. Seriously. Stop reading this right here and go read the story. Now. I’ll even give you an extra link to it. Go.

The Thought That Counts by RaindropSoup
Pairing: Edward/Alec/Caius
Word Count: 5,647
Summary: Mindreading is not only an overwhelming ability but also a sixth sense, and the gift of sensory deprivation might just be a condemning Godsend. Post-BD.
Prompt: Edward/Alec vampy-bondagey thing… Alec uses his gift to cut off Edward’s senses, plunging (heh!) him into a stage of sensory deprivation – except for the pleasure Alec wants to give him, of course. Maybe he invites others to participate as well – and it’s the writer’s choice as to whether Edward can still red the minds of whoever is involved.
My thoughts: Edward + Alec + Caius + Demetri. Seriously? Volturi vampfic always gets me going, and the author does a great job with her first slash fic. I do wonder what got Edward to this point after the events in BD…

The Whipping Boy by Fr333bird and beckybrit
Pairing:
 Edward/Seth
Word Count: 10,949
Summary:  Edward and Seth are captured by the Volturi, but the experience brings them together in a way E never expected. This is ultimately a love story, albeit a dark one. WARNINGS: contains graphic torture and some elements of sexual abuse.
Prompt: The Whipping Boy. AU, Wolf/Vamp Slash. Ed and Seth are captured by the Volturi. Seth is tortured whenever Edward refuses to obey an order. Graphic torture (remember shifter’s rapid healing) and hurt/comfort sex between Ed/Seth. Feel free to include sexy Dom/sub action with a male Volturi (Marcus please), but Ed and Seth should be the focus of the fic. HEA not required, but love would be appreciated.
My Thoughts: This one really took me by surprise. Whipping is not a kink of mine, but this doesn’t really treat whipping as a kink. The authors handle the subject matter beautifully, and the relationship between Seth and Edward is real and believable. Takes place in a BD AU where Bella was killed in the non-battle at the end of the book.

The White Dress by avioleta
Pairing: Carlisle/Edward
Word Count: 5,599
Summary: “When he wears the white dress, Carlisle knows he will have to touch him.”
Prompt: Cross-dressing, slash, vamp E/C. It starts off with Carlisle and Edward trying to hide their relationship from an unforgiving society, but it turns out to be so much more. Edward grows to love wearing the pretty dresses and silky lingerie. He loves getting dressed up for Carlisle, and being ‘Esme, the perfect wife’. He loves getting bent over the table with his skirt pushed up, and Carlisle’s cock in his ass.”
My thoughts: Cross-dressing is not really my kink (though it’s growing on me), but fuck if this didn’t kill me. avioleta writes E/C absolutely perfectly, and she does a brilliant job of putting Edward comfortably in a dress. (For other reference, please read A Cinderella Story, not vampslash but one of my all-time favorites. And I will get everyone to read it if it’s the last thing I do!)

**Timeless by shoefreak37
Pairing: Demetri/Felix
Word Count: 4,013
Summary: While monitoring the newborn army in Seattle, Demetri and Felix find ways to indulge while also getting themselves fed. Entry for the Twilight Kink Fest. Takes place during Eclipse.
Prompt: Dubcon + possible bloodplay. Demitri/Felix + human(s). I’d like to see these vamps indulge in a bit of carnal delight before draining their next meal. Bloodplay a plus. Obviously dub-con, with the human(s) being so overwhelmed by their attraction to the vamps, they think they want it and are grateful to get it… Slash preferred, but a combination of slash/het okay too.
My thoughts: All I have to say about this is that it’s exactly – exactly – what I imagine Demetri and Felix are really like. It’s exactly how their relationship would work and exactly how two, centuries-old vampires would behave. And it is brilliant.

**To the Victor Go the Spoils by MarchHare5
Pairing: Carlisle/Jasper
Word Count: 9,731
Summary: When Carlisle’s coven of females is threatened by an interloper, Carlisle’s instincts run away with him as he teaches his rival a lesson he’ll never forget. Very OOC. Graphic. Heed warnings inside. For the TwiKinkFest.
Prompt: Vamp Carlisle is the leader of his coven (females only) New male rival, Jasper, threatens the balance and gets dominated and fucked into submission as he stumbles upon a hunting trip. Dirty bareback feral forced anal. The more feral the better!
My thoughts: Well, dirty bareback feral forced anal was the prompt, and this absolutely delivered. This is Carlisle as you’ve never seen him, and a sad, ruined Jasper. It displays a very different coven hierarchy and dynamic than we’re familiar with in the Twilight universe, but it works for this fic. Do be warned that there’s quite a bit of het in this, but since Carlisle and Jasper do have sex, it still counts as vampslash.

If you see any others that I’ve missed, or yours has been written and isn’t featured above, give me a holler!
 
Leave a comment

Posted by on December 5, 2011 in Fandom Events

 

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Halloween Fest: Once then Always

Author: avioleta
Pairing/MC: Carlisle/Alec
Genre(s): Canon (post-BD); vampslash; angst
Wordcount: 7400
Prompt/recipient: Prompt #11, Inebriation (for vampireisthenewblack)
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: explicit m/m sex and a bit of blood; please consider the pairing before reading. Alec is older yet physically younger than Carlisle. Not technically underage, but could be considered offensive nonetheless.
Summary: “What are you doing here?” The boy grins. “Come now, Carlisle, don’t you know your ghosts always find you on All Hallows’ Eve?”
Disclaimer:
The characters aren’t mine. The words are. Please heed the warnings and rating. I mean it.

Once then Always

Carlisle stares down into the dark crimson liquid. In the dim light of the room, it almost looks like blood. Almost.

He bites back a laugh. Perhaps it’s time to feed.

He takes a slow sip, allowing the flavors to roll across his tongue. Though the wine is thin and cheap (they serve nothing else in this place), it is still earthy, peppery, and smooth. He enjoys the pleasant burn of the alcohol as it warms his throat, his belly.

Esme would be appalled. But then she never understood his vices.

He drains the glass and signals the bartender for another, wishing (just for once) he could be drunk, that the alcohol would cloud his too-perfect mind, would make him forget, would make him numb. But, of course, the blood in his veins is not his own, and no amount of wine or whiskey will pollute it.

He sighs; the dark wine shimmers in the flickering light, casts a thin shadow on the table.

Some nights, he actually wants them to find him.

It would be a fitting punishment for his crime, really. And then there would be no more running. No more wondering when.

He doesn’t sleep, but he still has nightmares. Sometimes he doesn’t even have to close his eyes.

He sees Aro’s eyes, looking up at him. They are pale and bloodied and always softly accusatory. He’d been shocked at first, but then his thin lips curved into a sickening and knowing smile. ‘Of course, Carlisle, my child’ he whispered (as hands closed around his neck) ‘You must protect your own.’

Other times he sees his family. The little girl, still clutched in Bella’s arms. Esme, eyes wide, a pale hand over her mouth. And Edward. Always Edward, resigned and tired (more tired than he’s ever seen him), hand on his wife’s back as he nods. ‘Of course, you must go. We’ll see you again soon.’ He’d smiled that easy smile then, though they both knew it might be for the last time.

No. He shakes his head, presses his palm to the worn surface of the bar. It had to happen. It was the only way. After all, he never had a choice.

He wants a cigarette but is certain the bartender won’t allow it, even in a place as sordid as this.

He thinks about the miracle that is his child. He hates that she will grow up (too quickly, it seems), and he will not be there to see it. She will know what he did (for her, for her mother, her father), but she will not know him.

Minutes pass. The bartender checks his watch, wipes down the counter with a grimy rag. The bar is relatively empty at this hour.

He hears him approach and sets his glass down carefully. His breath catches. Perhaps, finally… But no. The boy is alone. Carlisle purses his lips, as he takes the seat beside him. He refuses to look, refuses to acknowledge his presence. Instead, he takes another sip of wine.

The small vampire watches him for several minutes. Carlisle can feel his eyes on him, searing and hot on his skin. He exhales a shaky breath but does not turn his head.

“Why do you do this?” the boy asks after several long moments, motioning toward the glass in Carlisle’s hand. Full lips curl in distaste. “It can’t actually be pleasurable, can it?”

Carlisle shrugs, leans forward to rest his elbows on the bar.

“I mean, the blood in your system is not actually your blood,” the boy continues, “so the alcohol can’t affect you.” His voice rings with such conviction that Carlisle nearly laughs. Of course, he would never understand, but he looks at Carlisle, hands folded primly on his lap, and it is clear he expects a response.

“I appreciate the aesthetics,” he offers vaguely, twisting the stem of his glass between pale fingers.

The boy rolls his eyes. “You were never one for practicality, were you Carlisle?”

He shrugs again. “What are you doing here?”

Alec grins, pink lips curving to reveal perfect white teeth. “Come now, don’t you know your ghosts always find you on All Hallows’ Eve?”

Carlisle narrows his eyes; he doesn’t want to play this game. He’s known the child for nearly the entirety of his immortal life, and he still has trouble reading him. Alec’s expression softens slightly. He almost looks contrite. He reaches a hand out as if to touch Carlisle’s arm but thinks better of it and quickly tucks it back between his knees.

“What are you doing here?” Carlisle repeats. His voice is cold and rather harsh, but he doesn’t care. Not really.

The boy bites his lips; for a moment he looks unsure. “I had to see that you were safe.”

His honesty startles Carlisle. He turns to look at him.

The boy glances down; wisps of reddish hair fall into his face. Carlisle resists the urge to brush them off his forehead. He swallows thickly. “Now you have.” He picks up his wineglass again; the black red liquid glints against the curve of his palm. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Why did you do it?” Alec asks suddenly; his voice is very small.

Carlisle says nothing. He knows the boy is grieving. He’d known Aro longer (and more intimately, perhaps) than even he had. After all, Aro had sired Alec and his twin.

The boy breathes out slowly, watching him, unnatural eyes dark. His hands, graceful, elegant, and small are clutched so tightly together that his knuckles are white. “You foolish fucking bastard,” his mouth twists savagely, a sneer marring his delicate features.

Carlisle hides his flinch; it always surprises him to hear such obscenities slip easily from Alec’s childish tongue.

His eyes flash dangerously. “It was for him, wasn’t it?”

“It hardly matters now.”

The boy inhales sharply. It’s clear he’s struggling to maintain his composure. “But it doesmatter.” Petulance and something else entirely bleeds into his voice. “They’ll find you.”

Carlisle takes the last sip of wine. “It doesn’t matter. It was the only choice.”

Alec looks as though he might protest but says nothing. Instead stares moodily across the bar. Colorful bottles line the glass shelves along the wall (cerulean blues, jewel toned greens, and golden yellows).

Carlisle sighs. Sometimes he wonders if he did the right thing, if it really were his only choice. But it’s far too late to change anything now.

Aro is dead. He is responsible.

“Did her shields actually work?” he asks after a long moment. “Were you really unable to get through?”

The boy shrugs thin shoulders but does not respond.

“Alec?” he prompts. He needs to know.

“There were cracks…” he trails off, pale fingers picking at the sleeve of his sweater, and he leans forward again, hair obscuring his eyes.

Carlisle waits for him to continue, but he does not.

“If Bella’s shields did not work, why did you encourage Aro to stop the attack?”

The boy looks up at him scathingly, as though the answer should be obvious. “Because it wasn’t worth it. It wasn’t worth you.” The last is said in a hissed whisper, a soft exhale of sound that Carlisle almost doesn’t hear.

Something warm unfurls in the pit of his stomach (like alcohol, like blood).

“Besides,” Alec says then, eyes fixed on his, “the child was innocent. She did not deserve to die.”

Carlisle nods, sliding his thumb along the lip of his wineglass. He can’t help but worry about his family, hope that they are still safe, alive. But he has to think that they are. After all, they are the reason he has condemned himself to this life of exile, of fear.

But he hasn’t spoken to anyone in seven months. He doesn’t even know where they are.

“Why did you leave them?” the boy asks. And though his eyes betray nothing, his tone gives too much away.

Carlisle answers truthfully (doing his best to choke back the sudden rush of grief). “I had to.” He’s said it so many times by now, he almost believes it.

Alec nods, pushes a strand of unruly hair behind his ear. “You protect them. You always have.”

“Marcus and Caius would have targeted them,” Carlisle says, “just for being with me.” He sighs and turns toward the boy beside him. “You know that. Now, though, I have to believe that they will be spared because I am no longer there.”

The boy nods again but says nothing. He rests an elbow on the bar-top but immediately jerks back again, a positively horrified expression on his face. He tentatively touches one fingertip to the counter. “It’s…sticky.” He looks at Carlisle as if it’s somehow his fault.

Frankly, Carlisle is rather impressed that the child has sat here this long. His tastes are absurdly aristocratic. Alec tugs his arms to his chest and looks around, as if he’s only now noticing his surroundings.

The bartender emerges from the back storeroom, a case of beer in his arms. He sets it down on the counter with a grunt and then glances down the bar at Carlisle and Alec. His eyes widen in shock, but then his expression darkens.

He lumbers toward them, wiping thick hands on a dish towel.

Carlisle closes his eyes; he knows what’s coming.

The man’s nostrils flare. “Now I don’t know what you’re playing at, but he can’t be in here.”

Alec sighs loudly; Carlisle thinks he does exasperation quite well.

“Oh, dostop worrying,” he says, boyish tongue dripping with condescension. “I doubt I’ll be drinking any of what you have to offer.” With this, he lets his eyes slip appraisingly over the man’s chest before they flicker back to his face.

Carlisle knows the exact instant the man notices (a sharp intake of breath, a step backward). His back hits the cabinet behind him; his heart is beating too fast (a thrum of blood in Carlisle’s ears).

Alec sits perfectly still, red eyes unblinking. Then he smiles. His teeth are far too white and far too straight.

Carlisle watches him closely. Though he doesn’t believe the boy will do anything foolish, he knows all too well what he is capable of.

The man gasps; he’s gone rather pale. “I…I don’t know who yeh think you are, but I’m telling you, if you don’t leave now, I’m gonna have to throw you out.” His voice is choked; his hands clutch the countertop.

Alec laughs, a childishly clear sound that is positively chilling. “I think not,” he says calmly, cocking his head to the side. “In fact—”

Carlisle places a hand on his arm, and the boy stops. He looks down, brow furrowing as if in confusion. “Oh…okay.” He looks at Carlisle again. “Perhaps we should take this elsewhere.”

He stands. Carlisle pulls a twenty-pound note from his pocket, slides it across bar. The bartender hasn’t moved. But when Carlisle places a hand on the small of Alec’s back, guides him toward the door, he hears the man exhale, “fucking pervert…freaks is what you are.

Alec stiffens, starts to turn around, but Carlisle’s fingers tense against his back. “No.” And the boy nods once. Carlisle knows he won’t be able to return, but it hardly matters now, not since the boy’s found him.

Though the man (wisely) says nothing else, Carlisle can practically hear his disgust as they slip outside and into the cool night air. But he doesn’t care. They rent rooms by the hour next door, and he’s quite certain the man has seen worse than whatever he expects Carlisle is taking the boy off to do.

“How did you find me?” he asks as Alec hurries to match his longer strides.

“Oh please,” he rolls his eyes. “If Marcus and Caius knew how predictable you were, you’d be dead already.”

Carlisle shrugs. He’s probably right.

He’s staying in a rundown motel three blocks away. The building is squat and decrepit (nearly as wide as it is tall). It is not a place he would have ever considered going near before. But, of course, things are different now.

Streetlamps cast an orange glow on the slick pavement; Alec shoves his hands in his pockets and follows Carlisle inside.

The foyer is as dingy as the building’s exterior. The once black and white tiled floor is gray with years’ of dirt and dust and grime. A single bulb flickers in the fixture overhead, bathing the small entryway in sickly pale light. The night attendant behind the counter does not look up from his tabloid.

It’s for the best.

Carlisle ushers the boy past, and they ascend the narrow stairs quickly. Alec keeps his arms pulled tight to his thin chest as if terrified that some of the squalor might rub off on his person.

Carlisle chuckles. “It’s not contagious, you know.”

The boy raises an eyebrow skeptically. “I’m not entirely certain about that.” His pink lips curl as the reach the third floor landing.

Carlisle is quite sure he doesn’t want to know what has stained the carpet.

“You certainly know how to pick a lodging,” Alec scoffs, “don’t you?” He sounds as though he’s holding his breath (he might well be). Carlisle wouldn’t blame him.

His room is on the fourth floor. They pause as Carlisle digs in his pocket for the key. Alec glances down the dim hallway (arms still wrapped round his chest). The carpet was once white perhaps, but after years of neglect it’s soiled, threadbare, and stained.

He pushes the door open and flicks on the light. A single lamp illuminates the room. The shade is cracked and faded. He tosses his keys and wallet on the dresser and turns back to the boy. Alec is still hovering just inside the door, assessing the surroundings critically.

“What are you doing here?” he asks after a few moments. His lips press together, and his fingers tug at the sleeves of his jumper. He clearly believes that such appalling conditions should be enough to make Carlisle stop running, to hand himself over to Marcus and Caius, to whatever punishment they devise.

“You already know why I’m here, Alec.”

“But surely you can afford much better.” He traces a semi-circle on the floor with the tip of his shoe. “I was under the impression that your family was quite wealthy.”

Carlisle bites back a laugh. The Volturi, of course, have the means to ascertain exactly how much the Cullens have in their accounts at any given time. That is one reason he chooses not to access his funds. “I’d rather not aid them in their search,” he responds simply. “Money leaves a trail.”

The boy scrunches up his nose as though he’s smelled something foul. (He might have.) “But surely you can maintain a level of discretion without living in some sort of…” his eyes dart around quickly, “of hovel.”

Carlisle doesn’t respond. The boy wouldn’t understand anyway. He stands there, fingers curled in the hem of his sweater, watching him.

“Why did you do it?” Alec finally says, repeating the same question he’s already asked. He reaches out hesitantly to touch a fingertip to the peeling floral printed wallpaper, making no attempt to mask his distaste.

Carlisle wants to laugh. The boy has never been anything but horribly spoiled. He shrugs. He already answered this question. “I had to.” He doesn’t want to have this conversation again. He doesn’t want to talk about Aro. Not now. Not ever. And certainly not with Alec.

“But you didn’t,” the boy says, and his voice catches slightly. He glances down at the greasy carpet and, for a moment, he looks so young. Carlisle almost feels sorry for him.

“I did.”

“No…no,” his voice breaks again, and he closes his eyes, sucks in a ragged breath, tries to compose himself. “He was stopping. You’d won.” His voice is soft, broken. All at once, he sounds as young as he looks, and Carlisle’s chest aches just a little.

“You know as well as I do,” Carlisle says softly, taking one step toward him, “he does not stop…would not stop.”

Alec looks up, his expression is pained, but he says nothing.

Carlisle continues, “he conceded the battle, but he does not give up that easily. He would have come back.” He takes another step, reaches out, drags a finger along the boy’s jaw. “It was never over.”

“I…” Alec stops, eyes fluttering closed. “I hate that he’s gone.”

“I know.”

“You loved him.”

Carlisle nods. “In a way, yes. But there was no other choice.”

The boy does not open his eyes. “I hate that.”

“I know.”

Alec stands perfectly still; Carlisle slides a hand down his arm. “He was mad.”

“I know.”

“They did not deserve to die.”

Alec catches Carlisle’s hand in his; his thumb traces a circle on the back of his wrist. “I know.” He looks up again, red eyes dark and dangerous. “But I hate that you did it for him.”

“For all of them.”

The boy shrugs. “For him…and his wife and his child.”

“They did not deserve to die,” Carlisle repeats.

Alec bites his lip (pink flesh caught between perfect white teeth). “No. But neither do you.”

Carlisle says nothing. He holds the boy’s gaze firmly in his own.

“I don’t want to lose you too,” Alec whispers after several long moments. His chin trembles slightly. Carlisle wants to cup it between his hands.

“You won’t.”

“Marcus and Caius—”

“Will tire of this chase eventually. They will return to Volterra. They will forget about me.”

Alec nods but does not look convinced.

Carlisle takes off his coat and lays it carefully over the back of the room’s only chair. The boy watches him closely. He hasn’t moved.

“I still can’t believe he’s gone,” Alec says after a long moment. He rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet and licks his lips; he presses his knuckles to his mouth. “Oh God, Carlisle… Why did you do it?” He whispers the words, and then there are hands on his shoulders, pushing and pulling, and teeth at his neck, sharp and painful. “Why did you do it?” he says again, and his voice is cold and harsh but tinged with something heartbreaking and desperate.

“You ruined everything,” Alec half cries, half sobs against his throat. And then his tongue is there, licking a line up Carlisle’s jaw. “How could you?”

Carlisle’s hands tremble as they settle on the boy’s waist, large and heavy and awkward as Alec quakes against him, breath ragged and wet against his skin. “Don’t you know how much I needed him? How much I need you?”

“I know. I know,” he gasps out, fingers smoothing over the boy’s forehead, pushing ridiculous lovely red blond bronze hair out of his eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…”

And the boy kisses him, clumsy and needy and more teeth than lips or tongues.

“Oh…oh God…” Carlisle wrenches himself away, breathless and shaking and lost, lost.

“Are you…are you all right?” Alec asks. His hands are tugging at Carlisle’s top button, and then his mouth is pressing hot kisses along his collarbone.

And no, no he’s notall right because this thin slip of a boy never fails to devastate him. “We can’t. We shouldn’t.” But Alec is grinding helplessly against him, and he can feel his cock, hard and young and moving, moving against his thigh.

“Yes, yes we…oh fuck…” the boy hisses, hips still rocking. “Do you—”

No. He doesn’t. He can’t, but he’s dry mouthed and aching, and his fingers dig into the perfect curve of the boy’s arse, holding him closer as he continues to grind and grind against him.

“Beautiful,” Carlisle breathes, and he is surprised his mouth has managed to form the word. “You’ve always been beautiful.”

And the boy is still (still) moving, small hands clutching tightly at his arms, untidy head thrown back, pink lips parted softly. “Car— Carlisle…oh, oh God,” and at the feel of warm wetness against his thigh, Carlisle has to bite his lip to keep from coming in his trousers like a teenager, like Alec, shuddering against him.

“Oh…oh,” the boy is still moaning, as he trembles, boneless and weak-kneed in the aftershocks of his orgasm.

And Carlisle can’t stop touching him (though he shouldn’t…he shouldn’t). But his fingers smooth over round, flushed cheeks, trace the pale column of his lovely neck, slide down thinly muscled arms to lace their fingers together.

“What are you doing here?” Carlisle asks the question this time — once he can think, once he can breathe, once he can speak again.

“I told you,” the boy sighs, “I needed to know that you were safe.”

“And that information is readily available to you.” Carlisle’s voice is thick and rough. “You will surely know the moment I am captured. Until then, it would be reasonable to assume I am safe.”

“Yes. But that’s not quite the same now, is it?” Alec is still touching him, fingers curling around his wrist to stroke smooth skin underneath the sleeve of his shirt. “I’ve missed you.”

These last words are barely spoken (a whisper, a faint huff of sound). Carlisle is not sure he’s actually heard them, but something flashes in the boy’s eyes, and Carlisle recognizes it instantly, knows he’s heard correctly.

Alec’s expression changes again. The boy’s moods are mercurial at best. But then again, children are rarely known for consistency. His lovely terrifying eyes darken slightly; it makes Carlisle’s stomach twist and his cock throb (don’t come, don’t come). He doesn’t let go of the boy.

He should pull away. He should not let this happen again (not now, not ever). Still, he can’t help but cling to the small body (like ivy, like vines).

It’s wrong. It’s beyond sinful. (Another reason among a thousand why he’s surely damned.) The boy is a child, despite how long he’s been that way. And Carlisle shouldn’t want what he wants.

He swallows thickly. “You shouldn’t be here.”

But Alec tugs Carlisle’s hand to his waist, and he can feel firm muscles slide under his palm. The boy leans in, and he can feel warm cold breath ghost across his neck. It’s familiar and intoxicating, as Alec’s mouth brushes over his.

Once. Twice.

He pulls back slightly and can feel the boy’s mouth on his cheek, and that simple sensation draws forth a multitude of memories he’s tried hard to suppress. They skip across his mind like stones, some smooth, some jagged cutting and sharp, but all brilliant (like a spark of flint on rock, hot and hard and shining).

His chest is too tight; it shouldn’t be this difficult to breathe.

“Stop,” Alec whispers. “I know what you’re thinking. And we’ve been over it before.”

“I can’t. We shouldn’t.”

“Yes, we should.” He laces his fingers through Carlisle’s again. “You weren’t even my first. You know this.” Alec never fails to bring this up, and Carlisle is not sure if he means to reassure or simply make him jealous. If it’s the latter, he’s successful.

“I don’t know why you continue to beat yourself up over it, over wanting me,” he continues, thumb stroking along the back of Carlisle’s hand; he closes his eyes. “After all we’ve done. After all this time.” This is whispered, a gust of breath against Carlisle’s neck, and the boy pulls his hand to press against the front of his trousers, damp and sticky, and oh, oh God.

He remembers their first time perfectly (memories mirror sharp, crystal clear) just as his flawless mind recalls every time since. He’d hated himself for wanting him. Hated the boy for wanting him, for letting him touch him taste him tease him fuck him. And he hated even more that he hadn’t been the first to do those decadent delicious depraved things to him.

“I’m glad he’ll never touch you again,” he gasps, capturing the boy’s mouth in a brutal kiss. “No one else should touch you.”

Alec’s breath hitches as the possessiveness in his tone, but still the boy whispers into his mouth, “come now, Carlisle, you know Aro would have never touched me unless I wanted it.”

“I know. And I will always hate him for it.”

The boy’s forehead creases. “Yes, but you have me now.”

Carlisle sucks in a breath and can’t help but want want… He swallows thickly, and Alec tugs his hands to his waist, settle his hands on Carlisle’s hips, thumbs pushing at the waistband of his trousers.

And they’re kissing. (Alec’s mouth is soft and sweet and achingly familiar.) Teeth scrape against lips, and Carlisle’s hand smoothes over the curve of the boy’s arse, tugs him closer. The other curls around the boy’s neck, palm warm against smooth skin; his fingers thread through bronze hair, as Alec lifts his face up for another kiss.

Carlisle is not tall (Edward is taller…), but Alec is (will always be) a head shorter. Still, he seems to fit perfectly against him. His palm smoothes down the boy’s spine, slips under his sweater so fingers can splay across his back. And he always knows, despite wanting to forget, exactly how the boy feels against him – the soft expanse of skin, the narrow jut of hips, the press of a thigh between his.

Their tongues slide together, slow and soft, and Carlisle remembers exactly how he tastes (as if it’s been minutes, not weeks, months, years). Alec’s arms are around his waist, and they stumble together until they’re on the narrow bed. The coverlet is scratchy and no doubt filthy, but he doesn’t care because the boy’s legs are around his waist; his heels dig into his thighs. Red eyes look up at him hotly.

Carlisle cups his face between his hands, mouth moving against his as they kiss and kiss again.

Alec pulls away, sits up long enough to tug his sweater over his head, toss it onto the floor. His hair is mussed. A reddish blond strand sticks to the corner of his mouth. Carlisle brushes it away. The boy’s lips are wet, already red and swollen, and his cheeks are flushed (a lovely pretty pink).

Carlisle exhales shakily, as small fingers undo the last of his buttons, push his shirt off his shoulders.

His tongue slides along Alec’s lips, skims across his teeth, drags over his throat, as he rolls his hips into the boy’s. He can feel him hot and hard (again) against his thigh and shifts his hips, presses down against that hardness, gasps as their cocks slide together again and again.

Alec rolls them over. Carlisle likes how strong he is. A benefit of his particular diet, but it makes him think, perhaps, that he’s not so young.

The boy sits up on his knees; the zip of his trousers strains against the swell of his cock. Carlisle licks his lips, his fingers already pulling at his belt while Alec’s hands slide down his chest, tug his shirt out of his pants.

Palms skate over his abdomen, cause Carlisle to shiver, suck in a breath.

“Alec,” he gasps, rocking his hips underneath the boy’s.

“Missed you,” the not child says, leaning down to lick to the corner of his mouth. “It’s been too long.”

“I hate wanting you like I do,” Carlisle admits, hand brushing over Alec’s cheek. He can’t stop shaking.

His usually so steady hands fumble with the boy’s flies, push apart the plackets of his trousers. Dark wool frames the wet white of his pants.

Carlisle can see the smooth pink red curve of cockhead peeking over the waistband. Alec grabs his hand, pushes his palm down to his arousal. They both groan as he grinds against their fingers. Carlisle slides his thumb down the line of his erection, warm and hard through thin cotton.

Alec arches his back, pushes hips forward into the press of his hand. “Please,” he breathes.

Carlisle slides his trousers and pants down, and Alec kicks them off as Carlisle’s fingers slip over the curve of a narrow thigh. “Yes. Touch me.”

His throat is dry as his hands pluck at buttons, yank at the boy’s shirt. It hangs off his shoulders, the tails fall open over Carlisle’s lap as Alec straddles him. Carlisle shifts his hips and cannot remember how to breathe.

“Touch me,” the boy says again, head falling back, red lips parting. Carlisle slides a hand down his chest, fingers brushing over a hard pink nipple. Alec bites his lip, curves his spine (a half moon-shaped arch). His cock is small and flushed against his stomach. Carlisle leans up, presses a breathless kiss to his forehead, his shoulder (yes, oh yes…).

He swirls his tongue in the shell of the boy’s ear. He’s aching, desperate and the boy’s fingers are there, sliding his zip down, slipping a warm palm in to curl around his prick.

He hisses, arches up, and the boy bends over, presses his mouth to the tip of his cock. Carlisle gasps, as his perfect tongue licks around the head, slides down the shaft, and then curls around him, wet and warm. “God, yes…more” he moans, bucking up, fingers twisting in the boy’s bronze blond hair. And he hates that he wants the boy to suck him, to make him come, and he hates it even more that the boy’s done this to someone else…that he’s not the only one.

He was not the boy’s first. No. Aro took care of that. But Alec was his. His first (his only), but the boy doesn’t know, will never know.

The boy is gorgeous as he licks Carlisle’s cock, wet tongue sliding along the underside, swirling around the head before his mouth opens, swallows him again. Carlisle traces the hollows of his cheeks with trembling fingers, and Alec sucks him slowly, lips sliding up and down until he hits the back of his throat (but he doesn’t gag).

Carlisle’s hips jerk up; he can’t help himself, and suddenly he knows he’s about to come.

The boy pulls back, letting his cock slide out of his mouth with a soft pop. “I want you to fuck me,” he breathes, and Carlisle inhales shakily, presses himself up on his palms, and kisses him. He can taste himself on the boy’s lips, musky and thick and aroused.

“Do you have anything?” Alec asks, arching his back, pushing his hips against Carlisle’s.

“In the bag,” he gasps, as the boy bends over, fumbles beneath the bed for the small vial of oil. His fingers shake a bit as he uncaps the bottle. It spills over his fingers, runs down his hand. He reaches down between his legs, smoothes small fingers over his opening. Carlisle hisses at the sight, watches as the boy pushes one fingertip inside.

“God, yes…” he groans, hand curling round his own cock. “Get yourself ready for me.”

“You like this, don’t you?” the boy asks, head thrown back, fingers pressing, pushing, slipping inside his body.

“Yes…yes.”

“What do you want, Carlisle?” he whispers, fingers fucking himself slowly. “Tell me what you want.”

Carlisle holds his breath. He slides his hands down slender arms. He loves the play of muscle under too smooth skin. Alec’s lovely body had only just begun to fill out all those many ages ago when he was turned. And Carlisle hates that he loves, wants, needsthis body (forever caught between adolescence and adulthood).

“I want you to ride my cock.” He laces his fingers through the boy’s, slicks his hand with oil. The boy shudders, gasps at his words. (Sometimes Carlisle pretends he’s innocent, pretends he hasn’t had all this before.)

He slides his now slick hand along his aching cock, smoothing his palm over the head, then he grasps the boy’s hips, holds him still, and Alec reaches between them to line himself up. Slowly, slowly, he lowers himself down, and Carlisle inhales shakily, slowly as the boy slides down, inch by inch.

Finally he seats himself, splays his knees wide, and Carlisle can’t help but roll his hips, close his eyes.

“Oh…oh God,” Alec breathes, throwing his hands back, bracing himself behind, and he is so tight and warm and young, that Carlisle has to grit his teeth and try, try not to come.

“Fuck…fuck yes…” he gasps, jerking his hips up as the boy moves on top of him. Carlisle hisses, clings to the boy’s waist to hold him still as he thrusts up and up again.

“I thought you wanted me to fuck you,” the boy moans, eyes wide, pupils dilated.

“Yes, please…” he manages, hands falling away.

The boy bites his lip, twists his fingers in the duvet and rises up, knees pressing tight against Carlisle’s thighs. Carlisle moans as Alec pushes down, lifts up again, again.

“You like that, don’t you?” he gasps, rolling his hips, arching up, sliding down over Carlisle’s cock.

“Yes…yes…make me come.” Carlisle is shaking, stomach muscles clenching, and he can’t help but push up against him. He reaches out to curl his fingers around the boy’s lovely cock, but Alec bats his hand away.

“No…no, don’t.” He moves faster, harder, as he lifts his hips and falls again, prick bouncing wetly against his stomach.

Carlisle’s hand clench (nails bite into his palms), his thighs tremble, and he cries out, “I…fuck Alec, oh God…”

He comes hard, mouth open, hips jerking beneath the boy. Alec groans, tensing around him, making Carlisle gasp again. And then he’s coming too, small cock spurting; thick warm strands smear across Carlisle’s stomach, onto his chest. His legs tremble against Carlisle’s sides, and his head falls back (bronze lovely hair slides over his eyes).

The boy slips down against him, languid and spent. His chest heaves and Carlisle smoothes a hand over his back, feeling the slick soft perfect skin under his palm.

“Perfect,” Carlisle breathes. Always perfect.

They lay together for a while. Carlisle’s fingers trace the boy’s ribs, slide across his thin chest.

“I think I could love you,” Alec says, voice soft and smooth, “if I were to love anyone at all.”

Carlisle sucks in a breath. He thinks, perhaps, his heart clenches a little. His heart, damned and useless, quiet, forgotten, cold. But now (perhaps) he thinks he feels it shudder.

He stands up.

The bedsprings groan as the boy rolls over. He props himself on one arm, cheek resting on the palm of his hand. The sheets twist around his hips. He watches Carlisle steadily as he dresses, pulls on his trousers, untangles his shirt from the pile on the floor.

Carlisle lights a cigarette. The tip glows red orange in the dim light of the room. He inhales deeply; smoke coils between his fingers.

“But I’m certain I will never understand you,” the boy says, standing. He lets the sheet fall to the floor. Carlisle takes another deep drag to hide the sharp intake of breath. He really is beautiful.

“That is, perhaps, even more disgusting than your choice of rooms.”

Carlisle inhales again, enjoying the way the smoke burns his throat, his lungs. For a moment, it almost makes him warm (away from the press of the boy’s skin).

Alec frowns, pink swollen lips curling in disgust. “Surely they would not approve.” His words drip with derision. There is little love lost between Alec and the Cullens.

Carlisle doesn’t care. The boy bends at the waist, tugs his pants back on. Carlisle can’t help but notice the way the fabric slides over narrow hips, clings to the curve of his perfect arse. “I do a lot of things my family would not approve of, when I’m away.” He lets his eyes slip down the boy’s still bare chest before tracing a circle around one pink nipple with a fingertip. Alec can’t repress the shudder.

“It’s positively vile. That and the drinking.” His eyes narrow and he steps back slightly, “like some…human.”

Carlisle laughs, a harsh sound, even to his own ears. He holds the cigarette to his lips again and exhales a thin stream of smoke into the boy’s face. Alec coughs then glares at him. Carlisle finds he quite likes the way his small mouth curls in disgust. He takes another long drag before stubbing the cigarette out on the window ledge. The dingy curtains twist in the crisp breeze.

The night is suddenly too quiet.

Carlisle does the last of his buttons and straightens his collar before calmly fastening his cuffs. He sits down on the narrow bed (sheets now rumpled for the first time, since he’s occupied the room) and laces his shoes. “Perhaps you should dress,” he says.

The boy still stands at the window. His trousers are undone, damp and wrinkled. His shirt hangs off narrow shoulders. Alec shrugs, fingering a purpling mark just above his collarbone.

Carlisle smiles at the indentation of teeth. Faint pink scratches crisscross the pale planes of the boy’s flat stomach and disappear beneath the fabric of his shirt.

“I think they know,” he smiles a bit wistfully, fingers tracing a line along the dusty windowsill. “You have never been able to resist me, after all.”

Carlisle laughs, slips the last of his few personal items into the small duffel bag he carries. “No, I suppose not.”

Alec cocks his head to one side, blond bronze hair sliding into his eyes. “Aro used to laugh, you know…” Something painful twists in Carlisle’s gut at the name, but he keeps his expression carefully blank as the boy continues, “he said you picked himbecause his hair was exactly the same shade as mine.”

He says nothing. Even if it were true, he would never admit it. Not out loud at least.

Alec purses pink lips and regards him thoughtfully. “He’s too old, though. You didn’t find him soon enough.”

Carlisle frowns. He’s never liked this line of questioning. “It doesn’t matter.”

“No,” the boy says, red eyes glinting rather maliciously, “I suppose it doesn’t.” He steps closer to Carlisle. Too close.

Even though he’s just come, he can feel his cock swell again. Alec laughs, smoothes small fingers over the noticeable bulge. Carlisle hisses, and the boy tilts his head up to slide his tongue along his jaw. “You’ll never have himthe way you have me,” he whispers, lips against Carlisle’s throat.

“No,” he agrees, clutching at the boy’s hips, pulling him into one more brutal kiss. “I don’t suppose I will.” Carlisle runs a palm down his chest (smooth and hairless and perfect perfect…).

He glances at his watch. “They’re nearly here.” It’s not a question.

The boy is silent for a moment. “I’m sorry, I had to. Jane only let me slip away because she knew I’d come to you.” He ducks his head, face half hidden in shadows.

Carlisle nods, “I know.” His thumb circles the jut of a white hipbone. “I’m glad you found me. But I have to…”

“Yes,” the boy cuts him off. “I know.” He looks up again, leans his head back, exposing the perfect pale column of his neck. “He was young.”

Carlisle runs his tongue along his throat, and the boy gasps. “Not like me, of course. But sweet.” He tangles his fingers in Carlisle’s hair. “I knew you’d like him.”

Carlisle’s mouth is already watering. He has never fed from a human, but he can excuse such a…necessary indulgence.

Alec cries out when his teeth pierce soft skin; his body tenses for an instant, and then he relaxes against him with a sigh. Carlisle shudders at the warm rush of blood over his tongue, in his mouth, as he slits open the vein.

It’s exhilarating and intoxicating and addicting all at once.

The blood is rich and sweet. The boy was right, of course. It is perfect (honey slick, and golden rimmed) as it washes down his throat. Carlisle pulls Alec’s thin body against his; the boy’s lips part, red eyes flutter closed.

Carlisle pulls back, gasping. He’s fully hard again, and Alec slips a hand between them, stroking him slowly. “You do like it,” he says dreamily, eyes opening again. “I knew you would.”

“Of course I do, brat,” he responds softly, affectionately. “How could I not?”

Alec exhales, a gentle puff of air against his throat; his fingers press against Carlisle’s cock through the wool of his trousers. “I knew you would,” Alec repeats, looking up, eyes glassy and bright.

He titles his head to lap at Carlisle’s lips; blood coats his tongue, paints his mouth a cherry red. “It is lovely, isn’t it?” he sighs decadently.

“Yes,” he agrees, hands framing the boy’s face, “as are you.”

“Where will you go?” he whispers against Carlisle’s mouth, voice soft, becomingly slurred.

“Away from London.” He curls his hands around the boy’s slim hips, pulls him impossibly close. “I…”

“Shhh…” Alec presses a finger to his lips, “it’s all right. I don’t really want to know.”

Carlisle nods. “I’ll find you.”

“I know.”

Small fingers curl into Carlisle’s belt loops, and he sighs as Alec slips a thigh between his legs, rubs against him (languidly, catlike). His head lolls slightly, and he smiles lazily.

Carlisle slides his tongue along Alec’s neck, catching the blood that still seeps from two perfectly placed puncture wounds. His skin is soft and creamy smooth (like butter, like milk), and though his round cheeks are flushed (with exertion, with arousal), he is unnaturally pale.

He steps back, willing his breathing to calm, willing his erection away. But it’s futile, of course.

The boy tilts his head, regards Carlisle through half-slitted eyes. “Come now, love. You’re not stopping, are you?” He runs a finger down the side of his neck.

Carlisle’s breath catches. “But you, I…” his tongue stumbles over the words as Alec steps closer again, splays warm palms against Carlisle’s chest.

“I don’t want to take too much.”

“Don’t be absurd.” The boy gives him a withering look. “That israther the point, isn’t it?”

Carlisle hates that he can’t disagree.

The boy smiles sweetly, looping his arms around his waist. Carlisle kisses him, an unhurried slide of lips and tongue. “You have to go soon,” Alec murmurs against his mouth.

“I…I know.” He’s shaking as he sinks his teeth once more into Alec’s young flesh, groaning as warm, sweet thick blood rinses over his tongue (oh, oh God…), and Carlisle knows this is what drunkenness must truly feel like (delicious, unrestrained, divine).

The boy sways against him, eyes fluttering back into his head. Carlisle clutches at his hips, holds him upright, and continues to drink and drink.

Finally, he pulls away, smoothes his tongue over Alec’s neck to seal the wound.

“Don’t,” the boy breathes, voice shaky and slurred. “Leave it.”

“But—”

“No. It must be convincing.”

He nods, presses his mouth to Alec’s pink lips once more, and he sighs (sleepy and dazed), his small body limp in Carlisle’s arms. His head falls to the side; his eyes drift closed.

“Don’t let me fall.”

“Never.” He lowers the boy to the floor, just as he hears movement on the stairs. Carlisle sweeps his thumb along his jaw, his lips, and Alec moans but does not move. Carlisle knows he’s taken everything he had to give. He is strong (immortal of course), but he will need time to recover. He is helpless now. He will need to be fed.

He presses a last kiss to the corner of the boy’s mouth before moving to the window.

Carlisle slips out just as the door bursts open.

“Alec!” He hears his twin’s high-pitched shriek, as he falls to the street four floors below.

And then he is gone.

 
10 Comments

Posted by on October 31, 2011 in Halloween Fest

 

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , ,

Character Study: Demetri

Shoefreak37 joins us today (I’m totally squeeing here, we have a guest poster!!!) and she is going to talk about Demetri 😀


Demetri

From the moment I read about Demetri, I was intrigued. Here’s this guy, this vampire, who can find anybody (unless the person in question is Bella and/or they have a love shield *eye roll*). He doesn’t have to know the person, doesn’t even have to have met them, but he can find them. Scary, right? Demetri was the main concern for the Cullen family when it came to defending Bella’s mortality in New Moon, and he was the most significant threat to all their safety in Breaking Dawn. No matter where they went, no matter what they did, he would be right behind them, potentially forever.

In my first multi-chap, Tracking Redemption, I wrote Demetri as a former sailor, an experienced navigator directly pre-dating the time of Christopher Columbus. In those human days, Demetri had an almost supernatural sense for finding things. He even attended Henry the Navigator’s school during the age of discovery. I needed an ambiguous character, in morals and sexuality, and the barely hinted at character of Demetri fit the bill (the story features an Edward/Demetri pairing). It was wonderful developing such an underdeveloped character, making him a bloodthirsty vampire who feeds on humans, yet underneath has a heart of gold. Not until Ms. Meyer published her guide did I realize how off I was about the back story, but maybe not so off about the heart of gold. 😉

Let’s talk Demetri and learn a bit about the character just barely revealed in the books.

Origin

First, let’s talk about what we glean from the books. Nothing. Haha. Yeah, we get that Demetri is an old vampire, not as old as some, but he seems familiar with the Volturi.

The only comment I’ve found that even comes close to indicating Demetri’s age is one from Breaking Dawn:

Without a doubt, he would be a fighter. There was no other way he could have survived so long…

We can also assume he was not with the Volturi when they overthrew the Romanians. In fact, Vladimir and Stefan never mention him at all, only saying the Volturi have “grown stronger with time.”

I found nothing about where Demetri might have come from, how he was changed or who changed him. I had always assumed Aro. I assumed wrong.

When the illustrated guide came out, I went looking for Demetri straightaway. What I found still wasn’t enough to quite satisfy me, but it did surprise me.

Demetri was originally from Greece (I was super excited about this, because he was originally from Greece in my fanfic, which I chose because the name is of Greek origin), born and turned around 1000 A.D. There is absolutely no mention of his human life, even in the guide written by Meyer, so one can only speculate what he did. The Roman Empire had fallen a good five hundred years prior, the Crusades were gearing up and the Ottoman Empire was threatening. All sorts of good plot bunnies there. Who was he as a human? What did he believe? What events led up to his transformation? “Around 1000 A.D.” leaves a lot of wiggle room. Why, my whole back story might just fit, with the exception of Aro being the one to change him.

Speaking of Demetri’s transformation, I had always just assumed Aro had done it, had never thought much different. Turns out Amun–leader of the Egyptian Coven–actually discovered Demetri, saw his potential and changed him. It seems Aro had a problem in those days and stealing other’s finds, generally killing off the rest of the coven under some false pretense.

What I enjoyed finding out, was Demetri had not wanted to join the Volturi. Apparently he and Amun were quite close and he had no desire to leave him. Aro had Chelsea dissolve the bond between Amun and Demetri, create loyalty in him to the Volturi, and, of course, he willfully went after that. (Which makes me wonder why Aro never had Chelsea do this with Edward or Alice when he wanted them so badly in New Moon, but that’s another story. lol. I personally believe Meyer hadn’t thought much about Chelsea prior to NM.)

I like to think this explains a lot about Amun’s behavior in Breaking Dawn, how close he comes to deserting the Cullens, how fiercely protective he is of Benjamin. Amun has no desire to face the Volturi because Aro likes to mess with Amun. Understandable. After Demetri and up until Benjamin, Amun had not tried to expand his coven.

Appearance

In New Moon, Demetri is described by Bella along with Felix:

Felix and Demetri were both of a slightly olive complexion—it looked odd combined with their chalky pallor. Felix’s black hair was cropped short, but Demetri’s waved to his shoulders.

I tend to like her description in Breaking Dawn upon seeing Demetri in the clearing at the almost-but-not battle a bit more:

Both were tall and dark-haired, Demetri hard and lean as the blade of a sword

Um, yes, please. Try not perving about that quote.

We know he’s tall from context, the guide specifies 6’3”. Does anybody else wonder how these super old vampires are so tall? lol. I mean, a 6’3” guy in the eleventh century? Geez. (Sorry, it had to be said.)

Obviously Charlie Bewley (the actor portraying Demetri in the films) though handsome, does not fit the description whatsoever. With all the horrible wigs, you’d think they could’ve found a horrible long, dark and wavy wig to slap on him.

Anyway, yeah, Demetri seems like he’d be a nice looking fellow. 😉

As far as his physical age is concerned, that is left entirely up to speculation. We know he would be on the young end, as most vampires seem to be. As tall as he was, I would assume he would’ve had full time to mature. Males stop growing (on the average) between 17-20 years of age. We can guess Demetri was 20-25, but there’s really nothing wrong with assuming he would be even as old as 30. The average life span in the eleventh century would’ve been rather short (between 30-40, maybe older for men, since they didn’t have to go through childbirth), so if he was much older he would’ve been considered somewhat of an old man.

Gift

Demetri is the most highly-skilled tracker in the world. Tracking is obviously the most common gift in the vampire world, as I can think of three vampires we were introduced to with that ability right off the top of my head. James, Alistair and Demetri.

The way Demetri’s tracking skill works is a far cry from the other vampires mentioned, however. Demetri doesn’t track by scent or sound; he tracks entirely in his mind. Demetri can find a mind no matter how far away he is. There aren’t many limitations to it. All he has to have done is either met the person he is looking for, or met someone who knows the person he is looking for.

For instance: Demetri has met Carlisle. Since he knows Carlisle, he could find Esme although he had never met her prior to the conclusion of Breaking Dawn.

If you believe in the seven degrees of separation, then you should be afraid of Demetri. Haha.

When I went researching Demetri, I couldn’t believe the amount of times he’s mentioned in Breaking Dawn. He’s the one all the Cullens want to kill. Sure, they want to take out Alec and Jane, but Demetri is the one to fear. They can kill all the Volturi, but if Demetri isn’t dead, he will find them.

Demetri is a skilled fighter as well. Continuing the quote from above, from Breaking Dawn:

My face was perfectly smooth as I considered Demetri. Without a doubt, he would be a fighter. There was no other way he could have survived so long, always at the spear point of any attack. And he must always lead, because he was their tracker–the best tracker in the world, no doubt. If there had been one better, the Volturi would have traded up. Aro didn’t surround himself with second best.

Funny, but I just realized we never really find our whether or not Demetri can find Bella. Everyone just assumes he can’t (except for Bella, she’s constantly pondering maybe his ability works differently), but we never get a confirmation. Huh. Plot bunny? Someone correct me if I’m wrong on that.

Anyway, Demetri is hardcore; he can find you and then also kick your ass.

Character

Like so many other awesome Volturi characters, Demetri doesn’t get many speaking lines.

He is one of the first members of the Volturi guard who makes an appearance in the books: New Moon, the alleyway in Volterra just after Edward exposes himself in a sparkly suicide attempt. We get right away Demetri is the kind of vampire who smooths things over, the good cop to Felix’s not so good cop.

“Felix,” the second, more reasonable shadow cautioned. “Not here.” He turned to Edward. “Aro would simply like to speak with you again, if you have decided not to force our hand after all.”

“Certainly,” Edward agreed. ‘”But the girl goes free.”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible,” the polite shadow said regretfully. “We do have rules to obey.”

I also think he can be a bit flirty and snarky. From New Moon as he escorts Bella, Edward and Alice out of underground Volterra, he speaks in reference to the flock of humans Heidi has brought:

“Nice fishing,” Demetri complimented her, and I suddenly understood the attention-grabbing outfit she wore… she was not only the fisherman, but also the bait.

“Thanks.” She flashed a stunning smile. “Aren’t you coming?”

“In a minute. Save a few for me.”

And in Breaking Dawn, in reference to the wolves:

“Interesting company you keep,” Demetri murmured to Edward.

Edward didn’t respond, but a low growl slipped through Jacob’s teeth.

It seems Felix and Demetri are sort of a package deal. Where one is, so is the other. Kind of like the Starsky and Hutch of vampires. Or the Laurel and Hardy. Ha. Picture that one. Bella is always comparing the two, mentioning them both together. Even in Eclipse, when Demetri is never mentioned by name in the clearing after the battle with the newborns, Felix shares several glances with “another shadow”.

“She has surrendered,” Edward explained, answering the confusion in her mind.

Jane’s dark eyes flashed to his face. “Surrendered?”

Felix and another shadow exchanged a quick glance.

And, when discussing the amount of newborns:

“Eighteen, including this one,” Carlisle answered.

Jane’s eyes widened, and she looked at the fire again, seeming to reassess the size of it. Felix and the other shadow exchanged a longer glance.

Sometimes I wonder about the true dynamic of their relationship.

What I find the most interesting about Demetri is the fact he did not want to join the Volturi. Aro turns away vampires all the time who wish to be a part of the guard. Vampires and humans alike seek them out either for the security, the notoriety, the fear and respect. What was so good about his vampire life he didn’t want to leave? The Cullen family refuses because of their morals, which Demetri obviously doesn’t share.

What I’ve gathered from my Demetri research is he’s a smooth, charming and witty bloodsucker with an ambiguous background. He is strong and powerful and dangerous. Not only did Aro covet him for his gift, but for his obvious strength as well. And, as Bella said, if there were any better Aro would have traded up by now. Demetri can find me any day. 😉

I don’t think I’ve ever read a Demetri slash story. There is much fertile ground to work with, many characters with which he could obviously be paired. Feel free to rec me something or share your thoughts on Demetri in the comments.


*still squeeing* Thanks, shoe! I’m with you, I wanna read some more Demetri vampslash. Bring it on! By the way, I totally wish I had a pic of Henry Cavill up there, he makes such a nicer Demetri than poor Charlie 😉 ~vampireisthenewblack

 
3 Comments

Posted by on October 25, 2011 in Character, Writing Vamp

 

Tags: , , ,

Review: A Light Exists in Spring by shoefreak37

A Light Exists in Spring by shoefreak37

Summary: The Volturi find a new prospect in Forks. “All I know is, I think I’m gay for Edward Cullen, and in two days I’m supposed to die.” Slash Backslash 3.0 entry. Post Breaking Dawn.

Are there pairings rarer than Mike/Edward? Not many, if any (kiwi joke). So when this SBS3.0 entry appeared in my box, I squeed, loud and for real. VampSlash! Mike/Edward! Volturi! All my wildest dreams have come true! And I’m exhibiting a blatant author bias here, but I knew that because it had been written by shoefreak37, it would be right up my personal alley (and doesn’t that just sound filthy, no?)

Anyway. shoe. Mike. Edward. Volturi… vamp is a happy girl.

The story is post-BD, and as far as I’m concerned, entirely permissible as canon. Ahh, I do love a canon slash fic. The curtain rises on Edward as he descends into the depths of the Volturi dungeons, flanked by Felix and Demetri. Mike Newton is being held as their prisoner.

What on earth could the Volturi possibly want with Mike Newton?

The people who took him thought it was odd when Mike asked for a notebook and a pen. Once he got over the shock of being kidnapped, he grew bored. So bored he began to be afraid. Mike feared he would never be free again, feared he would forget who he had been entirely. He begins each page like this:

I am Mike Newton. I sometimes wish I were taller so I could slam dunk a basketball. My hair is blond. My birthday is in _ days. I will live to turn twenty.

In A Light Exists in Spring, shoefreak37 creates an addition to the Twilight mythology that fits seamlessly, and intrigued me right from the first mention. It’s impossible to share further without being a Spoily McSpoilpants, so I won’t, but I will say that the gift shoe gives Mike—and the reason the Volturi want him—is so entirely perfect for his character that I am once again rendered almost speechless by her insight into her characters.

Almost 😉

Now, this is a slash fic of course, and shoe doesn’t disappoint on the action. For 21 days, Edward and Mike are locked in a cell together. Oh my god but isn’t that one of my all time fantasies 😉 With no one else to talk to, these boys get to know each other very well. Mike comes to realise that Edward isn’t as bad as he once thought…in fact, he might actually be quite fond of him.

And Edward…

Edward is amazed by Mike. He wonders why Bella clung to Jacob when he left her, when she could have enjoyed the company Edward is enjoying. Here is Mike, days from death or an eternity of servitude, and he strives to keep Edward entertained. Would she have even missed Edward, had she really gotten to know Mike?

Edward has a couple of unique advantages. He can read Mike’s mind. He has also seen the visions Alice had before he left Forks. He knows what’s going to happen between them. And happen it does. shoe’s sex is lovely, as ever. It did remind me of my all time favourite VampSlash, Tracking Redemption, by the same author. The couples are entirely different, in completely different situations, but the language she uses is wonderful. She makes angry sex beautiful, and then when angry sex becomes tender and sweet it transitions nicely. She’s not gratuitous about sex, either. The story comes first and foremost, which I honestly cannot say for yours truly 😉

My name is Mike Newton. There are only two more days until my twentieth birthday.

For the last six days, I have spent most of my time having sex with Edward. I’m pretty confused about that.

The truth is, I have no idea what to think, can’t even begin to think about what to think. Was I into guys before? I don’t know.

All I know is, I think I’m gay for Edward Cullen, and in two days I’m supposed to die.

Mike draws a picture of a wooden stake going into a cartoon heart.

I might love him a little.

A Light Exists in Spring lived up to everything I have come to expect from one of shoefreak37’s VampSlash fics. It’s a wonderful addition to the unusual Mike/Edward pairing.

ETA: A Light Exists in Spring took out the two top spots in SBS3.0, First Place Judges Choice and Winner of the Public Vote. I wrote this review well before the winners were announced and I had no idea a vampfic and a Mike fic would do so well in this usually AH heavy contest. I’m so pleased, I’m so pleased for shoe, congrats love, you completely and utterly deserve it!

 
2 Comments

Posted by on October 3, 2011 in Reviews, Vamp Slash

 

Tags: , , , , , , , ,

Character Study: Alec

character

Alec

twilight_saga_s_new_moon59 Alec of the Volturi Guard.  How I love this boy! True, I never gave him a second thought until I cast him as the villain in the very first brainstorm for a certain AH Edward/Seth fic I once decided to write 😉 That’s a very long story that I won’t go into here, but it is true that my love affair with Alec began with the AH incarnation of Brit Alec in Say Something Else. He still has a very cosy and warm place in my heart, of course, but it’s canon, vampire, Volturi Alec that I’m now firmly head over heels for.

The first time I wrote Alec as a vampire was in Fire, Blood, Truth for the first Beyond the Pale contest, and I wrote him canon. I re-read whole chapters of New Moon and Breaking Dawn to garner the tiny specks of information I needed to date him and to establish his gift.

But before I did that, I checked out his bio on Twilight Lexicon. Back then, they hadn’t updated to include anything about his gift, and his origin was understandably vague. One thing I did find that I’d never seen anywhere in canon, was the reference to Alec and Jane almost being burnt at the stake for witchcraft. Aha! I thought. We’re looking at somewhere in the second millennium. Inquisition I could work with, it’s an era I’ve studied before.

But lo and behold, when I re-read Breaking Dawn, I discovered that Alec and Jane had to have been changed much, much earlier.

Origin

It all hinges on the Romanian vampires, Vladimir and Stefan. When Vladimir says:

“We’ve been waiting for fifteen hundred years, Stefan. And they’ve only gotten stronger with the years.”

he is referring to the Volturi’s conquest over the Romanian coven. Later, during the epic battle that wasn’t:

“…Alec owes me many lives, but I will settle for his… He’s mine.”

suggesting that Alec was one of the main reasons for the Volturi’s conquest. Therefore, Alec existed fifteen hundred years before the events that transpired in Breaking Dawn.

I figure Alec and Jane were changed not long before. I imagine that Aro would have taken advantage of his advantage over the Romanians as soon as he was able, so I’ve dated Alec’s change at around 500AD.

There is, however, a moment in Eclipse where Jane implies that she has never met Carlisle before:

“It was nice to meet you, Carlisle—I’d thought Aro was exaggerating.”

which caused me some confusion. I can only assume that Steph didn’t have Alec and Jane’s history finalised when she wrote Eclipse, because this is one hell of a continuity issue. So when I write, I choose to ignore this little piece of canon (because it doesn’t fit later accounts). The only other option is to assume that Jane was not with the Volturi during those decades that Carlisle was staying with them—which seems a bit of a stretch.

There are no clues that I can pick up as to what part of the world Alec and Jane are originally from. Their names are English, so it’s possible that their origin is Britain in the early Middle Ages. When I first wrote Alec, however, I made him Italian and used the Byzantine culture to influence his attitudes and ideas.

Appearance

In New Moon, Bella describes Jane (and by default we assume Alec is of a similar appearance in age):

At first I thought it was a young boy. The newcomer was as tiny as Alice…

The body under the cloak…was slim and androgynous.

Her size was so insignificant…

…Jane spoke again, her childish voice…

The Twilight Lexicon entry on Alec describes his age when changed only as ‘very young’. The witchcraft story that is not found in canon implies that Aro would have preferred them a little more grown up before he changed them, but they are obviously past the uncontrollable age of the ‘immortal children’.

I’ve always interpreted this as Alec (and Jane) having been in early adolescence when changed. There’s no way they are as old as Edward was, and Jane being described as boy-like and androgynous suggests not a hell of a lot of development has gone on there.

Because I was writing for Beyond the Pale, my Alec in Fire, Blood, Truth was 12-13—though I never stated his age. When I tried submitting the fic to My Vamp Fiction, it was rejected stating they considered canon Alec to be even younger O.O

Generally I think Alec and Jane can be assumed to have between anywhere between 11 and 15 when changed, though I usually assume toward the younger end of the scale.

Gift

I don’t read much more into Alec’s gift than is given at face value in the books. He’s the antidote to Jane—and I used that literally when I wrote Fire, Blood, Truth—he takes away the senses. You can still move, as Edward explains in Breaking Dawn:

“If he uses his gift against us, we will all stand blind and deaf until they get around to killing us—maybe they’ll simply burn us without bothering to tear us apart first. Oh, we could try to fight, but we’ll be more likely to hurt one another than we would be to hurt one of them.”

but you can’t feel, see or hear. One thing I am unsure about is if any extrasensory stuff would be affected. Could Alice still have visions? Could Edward still hear thoughts? The thing is, we’ve never seen Alec’s gift used successfully in canon, so much of it is guesswork and interpretation.

Character

Alec doesn’t actually have a lot to say in any of the books. Poor lad has very little screen time. In fact, he gets spoken about more than he ever speaks. Consequently, we don’t actually know much about his personality or character. I like to think that Alec is the opposite of Jane, because frankly, she’s a raging bitch. I like to imagine Alec as I portrayed him in Fire, Blood, Truth—trying to fix the mess Jane made with her gift before they were changed. I like to think he is as playful as she is serious. I always write him as having redeeming qualities, and damn it, I just think he’s a cute kid—albeit one who has been alive for fifteen centuries.

I think the thing that fascinates me most about Alec is the dichotomy between his youthful appearance and his great age. He’s not a child, but he’s not an adult either. And something that gives me endless plot bunnies is the fact that neither he nor Jane are mated. Were they changed too young as Esme once feared for Edward? Surely if they were going to mate they would have done so in 1500 years?

I’ve based all my Alec research on what I’ve found in The Twilight Saga and what was on the Lexicon. I don’t own the Twilight Saga Guide (or whatever it’s called) and I’ve not read Bree Tanner.

Other vamp Alec fics I’ve written are The Way of Virtue, Worth the Wait, and Déjà Vu. Some others I’ve enjoyed are A Very Different Gift by giselle-lx, Numb by afragilelittlehuman, and Forbidden Love by upsidedownntwisted. I really wish there was more vamp Alec slash fic. If you know of one I don’t, please do rec me something!

Feel free to offer your own observations on Alec in the comments 😀

 
9 Comments

Posted by on September 19, 2011 in Character, Writing Vamp

 

Tags: , , ,

Review: Fire and Ice by HoochieMomma

Fire and Ice by HoochieMomma

Summary: “No mutt is going to outrun me. I’m Rosalie fucking Hale.” Rose / Leah femmeslash, Canon. M for mature content.

I love canon slash. It really is the beauty of The Twilight Saga spanning just a couple of years in Bella’s life. When the vampires have existed for hundreds, sometimes thousands, of years there is so much canon time to work with, not to mention the possibility of future fic.

But when an author manages to write a canon slash fic that takes place within the time span of the saga, it’s just that little bit more delicious.

Fire and Ice is one such fic. It’s femmeslash, not my usual bag, but femme + vamp + canon + Leah (who I might have a wee bit of a girl crush on) is totally something I’ll read.

HoochieMomma drags us right into the middle of things without boring us with set up. We get the information we need, and only the information we need to explain the situation.

Me.

In a car.

With Leah Clearwater.

I know, right? It doesn’t compute. Anyway. This is all due to stupid Alice’s stupid visions and stupid Edward’s stupid infatuation with the stupid human (if I have to go over it all again, I swear I’ll pull what I’ve heard Jasper slyly refer to as ‘an Edward’ and book a one-way ticket to Volterra). So, to spare us all, the brief version is that fate has conspired with the cartload of stupid to mean that I am, indeed, stuck in my car with Little Miss Furry Ass over here. I check the mirrors then cast a sideways glare. Annoyingly, right now her ass is looking far from furry. In fact it appears to have been poured into pair of faded denim shorts instead, but still. Hello, shorts? In this weather? Let’s hear it for keeping your wolf problem on the downlow with seasonally-appropriate fashion choices. Anyway, between those and the fact that her top is riding up, exposing a flash of toned midriff, the upshot is she’s totally working the accidental slut look.

The sexual tension between Rose and Leah is brilliant. And I just adore Rose’s snark. Stephenie made me dislike Rose in a way that not even her overshare in Eclipse could save. But HoochieMomma has made me like her again. This is canon Rose, but with likeability.

The sight of her has literally stopped me in my tracks. She’s brought me to a standstill at the edge of the trees while I stare and stare. She’s alive; I can hear her heartbeat. She’s built of a smooth mixture of sinew and curves, like she’s been carved. As she turns into the breeze, a fresh wave of her scent reaches me. Just like it did in the car, I find it unsettling, but now it’s mixing with my scent, it’s not entirely repellent. It’s earthy, reminiscent of the woods and of living things. And, oddly, it smells familiar. Where have I smelt it recently…?

Rose makes almost constant reference to the fact that Leah is alive. Her heartbeat, her warmth, her scent. So in character, because it’s the one thing Rose would give anything for—to be alive.

The sex is where I usually glaze over when I’m reading femmeslash. I don’t when I read Fire and Ice. It’s not endlessly drawn out, it’s concise and very hot. The contrast between temperatures is a significant feature, and one of the things I love about a vampire/wolf pairing.

HoochieMomma’s parting gift is the suggestion of Emmett/Jacob. What I wouldn’t do for a companion fic to Fire and Ice 😉

Fire and Ice was Best Canon in The VampSlash Contest. It’s true, we didn’t have many canon entries, which is a great pity, but HoochieMomma definitely deserved this win. It was one of my favourite entries.

Now, just a reminder about the Halloween Fest we’re running. 100 words minimum, no maximum, more details here. Next week I’ll be launching a new feature on the blog where we get obsessive fans experts to profile their favourite character. It should be no surprise that I’m starting with Alec 😉

 
Leave a comment

Posted by on September 12, 2011 in Contest, Femmeslash, Pack Slash, Reviews, Vamp Slash

 

Tags: , , , , , ,

Writing Vamp: Canon or Not?

I feel kinda silly. I’m about to say something that can easily be said in a tweet, but unfortunately, there’s still confusion. So here we go.

The definition of canon where it relates to fanfiction:

Canon = Fact.

Everything that happened in the books is fact and therefore canon.

Change a single event or character trait or location from the fact laid out in the books, and it’s not canon. You’re in alternate universe (AU) territory.

That’s really all you need to know, but I’ll talk a bit more so I don’t have to come back.

Confusion about canon comes from the fact that all those little bits that make up canon as a whole can be broken down.

Canon Pairings

AH Edward/Bella is a canon pairing – but it is not canon, ‘cause, you know, Edward’s human. Edward was never human during Bella’s lifetime. Tell all your AH het writing friends.

Canon Mythology

Your vampires are venomous, don’t sleep or bleed. Great! We love this. But if Bella gets changed by James in the ballet studio, it’s not canon.

Canon Timeline

Post Breaking Dawn, Edward and Jacob get together. Great! We love this! But if Edward bites Jake in the heat of passion and Jake walks away from it, it’s not canon.

You need all three of these to have a canon fic. If anything is missing, you’re in AU territory.

Then How Can Slash Ever Be Canon?

You’ve got a whole timeline that stretches from the Roman era (probably before, I’m writing off the top of my head, and I’m not an Aro expert) through to the 21st century and beyond if you want to do future fic.

What was Carlisle up to while he lived with the Volturi? Never is it said that he was a pure and chaste virgin before he married Esme.

Edward and Emmett’s hunting trips always made my slashy little heart leap in my chest.

Kill Bella and Alice after the curtain closes on Breaking Dawn and Edward and Jasper are free to take comfort in each other.

Weird wolfpack initiations that require submission to the alpha? Hell yes 😉

Just because Garrett ends up with Kate in Breaking Dawn, it doesn’t mean he only went for girls before that.

You can be canon pairing compliant in slash fic as long as canon pairings, within the canon timeline, remain intact.

How Do We Know What Is Canon?

You’ve read the books, right? It’s all there. Some of it is pretty vague, open to interpretation. That’s great. It makes us think.

Some things Steph got wrong. Not big on research, it appears. Can create headaches for fanfic authors, I generally say go with book canon, or go AU.

Steph wrote some extras and gave some interviews. Then she wrote a novella. Then a guide was released. If the stuff in there doesn’t contradict canon, go with it, call it canon, no worries. If it does, I’m inclined to go with the original material.

Do I Have To Write Canon?

Hell no! Alternate Universe is fantastic! You have so much freedom, you can twist things, rewrite history, make it so Bella was never born (is it just me that loves this kind of fic?), have your characters do deliciously filthy things they would never do in canon. Just label it AU so we know.

Finally, this isn’t just the VampSlash girls saying this. Canon isn’t really subjective. It’s a cross-fandom acceptance of fact. Once again, I suggest you read giselle-lx’s (one of our VampSlash Contest judges) Canon Fodder pt1. Please, please, please read it. It explains everything very well and you can decide whether you want to write your fic canon or AU.

 
5 Comments

Posted by on May 11, 2011 in Writing Vamp

 

Tags: , , ,