[twilight] Statues: Volume XXII
Wrote the first a long time ago, and haven't posted it because I never make Statues posts with only one drabble. Then I wrote the second last night! And yup, wolfcest pairing. Make of that what you will. Personally, I'm more disgusted by how ridiculously fluffy I made the Emmangela. Which is what I'm calling it now because I am a big fag. :'D
YES I STILL HATE SUMMARIES. And I need a make-outy icon.
Title: Old Wounds
Fandom: Twilight
Pairing: Seth Clearwater/Leah Clearwater
Rating: R
Summary: You can’t put something back together if you don’t even know it’s broken. [for keepdreamingxx!]
She’s so tired of hearing their thoughts in her head, but one sick strand stands out. It’s the same mantra, always connected but constantly twisting, a snake devouring its own tail.
“Would you shut up, already?” she yells, throwing her clothes on. Her voice rattles the woods around them, silencing birdsongs and nature. “Jesus Christ, Seth! Dad did not love me more than you!”
“Yes he did!” he growls. He’s finally tall enough to look down at her, muscles roped tight in his arms. “You were just too stupid to see it! Why do you think he always invited you fishing, you hunting? It was you to the goddamn ends of the Earth!”
“I was going through a rough time, he was just -”
“That’s you, isn’t it?” His voice drops to a dangerous pitch, low and primal like the wolf he really is under all that skin. “Always going through a rough time, Leah. You never step back from the mirror and realize the world moves on without you!”
“Don’t you -”
“So big and tough and blind to just how fucking pathetic you are! Do you realize you’re still twenty-two? Even Jacob’s forced himself to grow up! But you’re stuck because you won’t get your damn feet out of the mud!”
“Shut -”
“Move the fuck on!” He grabs her by the shoulders and shakes her and she can tell he wants to leave bruises. “No one’s going to wait for you anymore! No one’s staying behind! Are you hearing me? Move on!”
And suddenly she realizes that he’s been in inside her head too, has seen the snake and is trying his best to unwind it - even if it means snapping a few of the bones. Leah knocks his hands away and crushes herself to his chest, raking her nails along the skin of his back and cringing when he does the same. It hurts.
It hurts, but it will heal.
Title: Music-Box
Fandom: Twilight
Pairing: Emmett Cullen/Angela Weber
Rating: PG
Summary: Emmett would never use a word like dazzled, but if he did, it would be in the same sentence as Angela Weber’s name. [for tunasaladsonnet, because i adore her and this is her otp!]
He enjoyed the subtle drumbeat that filled the room whenever she walked through the door. It was a soft, lyrical thudding that went only so far as the walls and his ears. He took incredible pleasure in the visible traces of it, her pulse asserting its presence in the rosy blush across her cheeks, the red rush of blood in her lips when she’d been chewing them too long. What Emmett liked most was that these behaviors happened most often when he was around - as if her heart were proving it was there for him and not Ben Cheney, who got giggles and gasps instead. (Emmett also wanted the air in her lungs, but he settled for stealing it, because making Angela breathless was much better than making Angela laugh - even though he could do both.)
Sometimes, he set his palm flat over where the beating was loudest. It was innocent and sincere; he closed his eyes, rested his lips against the hollow of her throat, and listened and felt and shushed her when he could hear the air accumulating in her lungs that told him she was about to interrupt. Angela didn’t understand his fascination because she wasn’t intending to fascinate him - and that’s the type of person she was. He liked having to place a finger to her lips and quiet her. He liked that she didn’t know how pretty she sounded. He liked that of all the words one could use to describe Angela Weber, vain was not one of them.
When he kissed her, he could feel her pulse in her lips and in her fingertips. He put his hands on her hips and tried not to hold too hard, while she wove her fingers into his hair and tugged him forward. All of it tested his restraint; he was always only one swipe of her tongue away from breaking the skin and drinking her in. The trust she had in him was enthralling and much more satisfying than he imagined the taste of her blood to be. Yes, sometimes he pressed her against the wall and kissed a bit too roughly, but she didn’t seem to mind. Once she said “stop” with a wave of fear and he thought he felt his ribs collapse - until she said she thought she’d heard her mother come in the front door. He assured her she definitely hadn’t and struggled to kiss her between laughs.
In short, Emmett Cullen rather liked Angela Weber. She had a certain warmth about and within her that made him want to have it without taking it away. It wasn’t just the human thing - it was just that the human thing illustrated everything else about Angela that was so damn Angela he couldn’t help but lie back and listen to her heartbeat - even when she wasn’t in the room.
YES I STILL HATE SUMMARIES. And I need a make-outy icon.
Title: Old Wounds
Fandom: Twilight
Pairing: Seth Clearwater/Leah Clearwater
Rating: R
Summary: You can’t put something back together if you don’t even know it’s broken. [for keepdreamingxx!]
She’s so tired of hearing their thoughts in her head, but one sick strand stands out. It’s the same mantra, always connected but constantly twisting, a snake devouring its own tail.
“Would you shut up, already?” she yells, throwing her clothes on. Her voice rattles the woods around them, silencing birdsongs and nature. “Jesus Christ, Seth! Dad did not love me more than you!”
“Yes he did!” he growls. He’s finally tall enough to look down at her, muscles roped tight in his arms. “You were just too stupid to see it! Why do you think he always invited you fishing, you hunting? It was you to the goddamn ends of the Earth!”
“I was going through a rough time, he was just -”
“That’s you, isn’t it?” His voice drops to a dangerous pitch, low and primal like the wolf he really is under all that skin. “Always going through a rough time, Leah. You never step back from the mirror and realize the world moves on without you!”
“Don’t you -”
“So big and tough and blind to just how fucking pathetic you are! Do you realize you’re still twenty-two? Even Jacob’s forced himself to grow up! But you’re stuck because you won’t get your damn feet out of the mud!”
“Shut -”
“Move the fuck on!” He grabs her by the shoulders and shakes her and she can tell he wants to leave bruises. “No one’s going to wait for you anymore! No one’s staying behind! Are you hearing me? Move on!”
And suddenly she realizes that he’s been in inside her head too, has seen the snake and is trying his best to unwind it - even if it means snapping a few of the bones. Leah knocks his hands away and crushes herself to his chest, raking her nails along the skin of his back and cringing when he does the same. It hurts.
It hurts, but it will heal.
Title: Music-Box
Fandom: Twilight
Pairing: Emmett Cullen/Angela Weber
Rating: PG
Summary: Emmett would never use a word like dazzled, but if he did, it would be in the same sentence as Angela Weber’s name. [for tunasaladsonnet, because i adore her and this is her otp!]
He enjoyed the subtle drumbeat that filled the room whenever she walked through the door. It was a soft, lyrical thudding that went only so far as the walls and his ears. He took incredible pleasure in the visible traces of it, her pulse asserting its presence in the rosy blush across her cheeks, the red rush of blood in her lips when she’d been chewing them too long. What Emmett liked most was that these behaviors happened most often when he was around - as if her heart were proving it was there for him and not Ben Cheney, who got giggles and gasps instead. (Emmett also wanted the air in her lungs, but he settled for stealing it, because making Angela breathless was much better than making Angela laugh - even though he could do both.)
Sometimes, he set his palm flat over where the beating was loudest. It was innocent and sincere; he closed his eyes, rested his lips against the hollow of her throat, and listened and felt and shushed her when he could hear the air accumulating in her lungs that told him she was about to interrupt. Angela didn’t understand his fascination because she wasn’t intending to fascinate him - and that’s the type of person she was. He liked having to place a finger to her lips and quiet her. He liked that she didn’t know how pretty she sounded. He liked that of all the words one could use to describe Angela Weber, vain was not one of them.
When he kissed her, he could feel her pulse in her lips and in her fingertips. He put his hands on her hips and tried not to hold too hard, while she wove her fingers into his hair and tugged him forward. All of it tested his restraint; he was always only one swipe of her tongue away from breaking the skin and drinking her in. The trust she had in him was enthralling and much more satisfying than he imagined the taste of her blood to be. Yes, sometimes he pressed her against the wall and kissed a bit too roughly, but she didn’t seem to mind. Once she said “stop” with a wave of fear and he thought he felt his ribs collapse - until she said she thought she’d heard her mother come in the front door. He assured her she definitely hadn’t and struggled to kiss her between laughs.
In short, Emmett Cullen rather liked Angela Weber. She had a certain warmth about and within her that made him want to have it without taking it away. It wasn’t just the human thing - it was just that the human thing illustrated everything else about Angela that was so damn Angela he couldn’t help but lie back and listen to her heartbeat - even when she wasn’t in the room.