Christmas Fanfiction Day 5!
Today is all about the crack. And I'm not stopping, rocketgirl2 , this is a challenge I must fulfill.
Bella sobbed and sobbed and sobbed.
What had she done to deserve this? She was a good girl, a good wife, she was faithful and obedient and all that jazz. She cleaned, and would have cooked if the vampires could eat, and once she even polished Edward's boots after he went hunting because they got muddy. Nobody could rightfully complain, honestly.
She tore at the pillow under her in rage. But as the feathers flew around the room all she could think about was her honeymoon and oh dear God, Edward was so perfect and it couldn't be him that was the wronged one, it had to be her. What had she done? How had she driven him away?
Carlisle said that he and Emmet were somewhere tropical, staying purposefully away from the rest of the family because of the trouble it would cause. At least Edward was trying to spare Bella grief. He was so kind and good and sparkly. Bella really didn't deserve him.
She let out a wail of discontentment. Even in this beautiful vampire body with all of her special powers she was stupid and clumsy and nobody loved her. WHY? Why was she so miserable at everything?
The little feathers drifted down, coating her hair and arms and she sighed. It just reminded her of Edward, causing something warm to uncurl in her belly. God, she missed him. Missed his skin and his beautiful golden eyes and his dark hair and his brooding smirk.
She had vague, hazy memories of when she was human, and the way he'd feel like ice under her touch.
It was then that she got the greatest of ideas. Bella practically skipped through the hall to the thermostat and cranked it downwards. Okay, so sure Vampires didn't really notice the cold, but maybe if it got cold enough...
She laughed and almost happily sauntered back to her room.
But when she saw Edward's picture resting on her bedside table she couldn't control herself and threw herself on the bed (now covered in Goose feathers). She wished she could still cry, so that tears would course down her face, but it reminded her of the way that water would roll off of Edward's perfect vampiric chest.
She grabbed the frame and began to trace his muscles. It was almost like he was here. Her heart beat faster. Even his picture radiated gorgeousity and she found it difficult to breathe (not that she needed to, she was immortal thanks to Edward's awesomesauce venom that had glistened like jewels in the moonlight, she was sure, despite having been unconscious). The frame was esquisite too, spraypainted gold, and the glass glinted softly.
Her eyes roved over his pearly white teeth and lovable bridge of his nose to the tilt of his sexy chin and she moaned in want.
"Bella hasn't been out in days," Carlisle whispered to Rosalie, "I'm worried about her. She just sits and stares at that picture, sniffs the feathers and..." He made a motion that left very little to the imagination.
Rosalie grimaced. "Whatever, it's not like they ever talked anyways."
____
Renesmee disliked Scotland.
It was raining all of the time! So her parents could come with her. Which had seemed great at the beginning but by now they were really crimping her style. I mean, she was a tall, thin, gorgeous four-year-old and did it hurt to let her try to pick up a couple of guys and girls? She had a sexual libido, thank-you very much, and she would appreciate the chance to express it on occasion.
Not to mention the fact that Jacob was practically stalking her. She groaned in frustration. It had taken her the entire morning to ditch the three of them. His devotion was downright sickening, and honestly, if she was going to sleep with someone she'd have better taste than to do it with a dog.
These people here, though, weren't much of a challenge either. All she had to do was flash her pearly whites and they'd kneel at her feet. Which was fun once and a while, but fucking star-struck individuals got old pretty fast.
So now she was left wandering around Loch Ness, whatever the hell that meant. What was a "Loch" anyways?
It involved water, and that's about all she could determine. If she walked farther there was some old castle ruins, something called Inverness, but she didn't care about that. At least water offered the opportunity for swimming.
It all looked pretty grey and gross, but that didn't stop her from stripping and taking a dive.
It was seaweedy and there was algae and it was just generally disgusting, like everything else in this damn country. She held her breath and swam downwards.
She could hold her breath for a while, so it made swimming easy, and she explored the bottom.
Quite suddenly she encountered what appeared to be a large greenish rock. She put her hands against it, finding it pleasantly smooth.
Suddenly it began to move under her, shifting, and right next to her a grand, yellow eye appeared.
She gasped (inhaling much water) and pushed backwards. But something in the eye made her stop. It was soulful and sad, and she was quite certain that it understood her inner self.
She let out a breath in a stream of bubbles and moved closer to the creature, who cocked it's big head curiously.
Maybe she did like Scotland.
Writing on a Wall
Crake Kissing
Barbaric Love
And Matt and Mello Angry.
Bella sobbed and sobbed and sobbed.
What had she done to deserve this? She was a good girl, a good wife, she was faithful and obedient and all that jazz. She cleaned, and would have cooked if the vampires could eat, and once she even polished Edward's boots after he went hunting because they got muddy. Nobody could rightfully complain, honestly.
She tore at the pillow under her in rage. But as the feathers flew around the room all she could think about was her honeymoon and oh dear God, Edward was so perfect and it couldn't be him that was the wronged one, it had to be her. What had she done? How had she driven him away?
Carlisle said that he and Emmet were somewhere tropical, staying purposefully away from the rest of the family because of the trouble it would cause. At least Edward was trying to spare Bella grief. He was so kind and good and sparkly. Bella really didn't deserve him.
She let out a wail of discontentment. Even in this beautiful vampire body with all of her special powers she was stupid and clumsy and nobody loved her. WHY? Why was she so miserable at everything?
The little feathers drifted down, coating her hair and arms and she sighed. It just reminded her of Edward, causing something warm to uncurl in her belly. God, she missed him. Missed his skin and his beautiful golden eyes and his dark hair and his brooding smirk.
She had vague, hazy memories of when she was human, and the way he'd feel like ice under her touch.
It was then that she got the greatest of ideas. Bella practically skipped through the hall to the thermostat and cranked it downwards. Okay, so sure Vampires didn't really notice the cold, but maybe if it got cold enough...
She laughed and almost happily sauntered back to her room.
But when she saw Edward's picture resting on her bedside table she couldn't control herself and threw herself on the bed (now covered in Goose feathers). She wished she could still cry, so that tears would course down her face, but it reminded her of the way that water would roll off of Edward's perfect vampiric chest.
She grabbed the frame and began to trace his muscles. It was almost like he was here. Her heart beat faster. Even his picture radiated gorgeousity and she found it difficult to breathe (not that she needed to, she was immortal thanks to Edward's awesomesauce venom that had glistened like jewels in the moonlight, she was sure, despite having been unconscious). The frame was esquisite too, spraypainted gold, and the glass glinted softly.
Her eyes roved over his pearly white teeth and lovable bridge of his nose to the tilt of his sexy chin and she moaned in want.
"Bella hasn't been out in days," Carlisle whispered to Rosalie, "I'm worried about her. She just sits and stares at that picture, sniffs the feathers and..." He made a motion that left very little to the imagination.
Rosalie grimaced. "Whatever, it's not like they ever talked anyways."
____
Renesmee disliked Scotland.
It was raining all of the time! So her parents could come with her. Which had seemed great at the beginning but by now they were really crimping her style. I mean, she was a tall, thin, gorgeous four-year-old and did it hurt to let her try to pick up a couple of guys and girls? She had a sexual libido, thank-you very much, and she would appreciate the chance to express it on occasion.
Not to mention the fact that Jacob was practically stalking her. She groaned in frustration. It had taken her the entire morning to ditch the three of them. His devotion was downright sickening, and honestly, if she was going to sleep with someone she'd have better taste than to do it with a dog.
These people here, though, weren't much of a challenge either. All she had to do was flash her pearly whites and they'd kneel at her feet. Which was fun once and a while, but fucking star-struck individuals got old pretty fast.
So now she was left wandering around Loch Ness, whatever the hell that meant. What was a "Loch" anyways?
It involved water, and that's about all she could determine. If she walked farther there was some old castle ruins, something called Inverness, but she didn't care about that. At least water offered the opportunity for swimming.
It all looked pretty grey and gross, but that didn't stop her from stripping and taking a dive.
It was seaweedy and there was algae and it was just generally disgusting, like everything else in this damn country. She held her breath and swam downwards.
She could hold her breath for a while, so it made swimming easy, and she explored the bottom.
Quite suddenly she encountered what appeared to be a large greenish rock. She put her hands against it, finding it pleasantly smooth.
Suddenly it began to move under her, shifting, and right next to her a grand, yellow eye appeared.
She gasped (inhaling much water) and pushed backwards. But something in the eye made her stop. It was soulful and sad, and she was quite certain that it understood her inner self.
She let out a breath in a stream of bubbles and moved closer to the creature, who cocked it's big head curiously.
Maybe she did like Scotland.
Writing on a Wall
Crake Kissing
Barbaric Love
And Matt and Mello Angry.