Jasper Hale x Reader part 3

A/N: Part 3 is here you beautiful people! Sorry it this is long! I will be working on part 4 soon! And if there’s anyone who wants to be a part of the tag list, let me know so I can make a list. Thanks lovelies! 😊💕

Summary: Imagine being an immortal witch from the Middle Ages and being the previous love of Jasper before he was turned. You two were separated under certain circumstances and cross each other’s path once again, years later in the present era.

Warnings: Language. Violence and gore. Brief mentions of past abuse. Horror elements.

Part 1 , Part 2

It wasn’t long after till you arrived to your home with Harper. It was a gorgeous Victorian style manor that you fell in love with right when you laid your eyes on it. The way it loomed over when you looked up at it, to the dark brooding trees with twisted branches that resembled gnarly hands that seemed to lunge at you, down to the immaculate details that you couldn’t help but admire that covered the house. It reminded you of a life you once lived. When you were a child, your mother would tell you stories of how old houses, these old and beautiful things, in time, would somewhat become a living thing. She’d mention how they had bones and skin, were able to feel and breathe, and how they have seen many things. That phrase always used to spook you as a child. You used to think that your house was always watching you wherever you went. But now, you believe that if you took care of your home, “this living thing”, it would in turn take care of you, and become your safe haven.

You opened the door to your home and inhaled deeply, taking in the interior and the evocative scent that you managed to surround your place with. You loved to lay candles and incense about, filling your home with notes like pumpkin, sandalwood, dragon’s blood, musk, almonds, cinnamon, frankincense, and roses. It always made you feel more at home.

“Maleficent!” You called out as you took your shoes off as Harper did the same.

You saw movement in the far corner, seeing a small blur of black fur before you feel it rub against your legs.

“Hi Maleficent.” You cooed as you picked up your black cat with your gloved hands and held her to your chest, smiling with your eyes closed in content as she nuzzled against your scarf covered neck.

Maleficent let out a little mew as she stared up at you with those adorable big bright green eyes of hers, her purring vibrating through her chest as her abnormally large fangs poked out of her mouth. Times like these were sweet but heartbreaking. You loved Maleficent with all your being but you could never truly pet her. Thus your curse.

Harper geeeted Maleficent as well while she was still cuddled in your arms as you went into the living room, walking up to the large metal birdcage to greet your familiar, a Raven.

“Hi Edgar.”

“Well look what the cat dragged in.” He squawked as he stared at you with those mischievous black beady eyes.

“Oh please behave yourself Edgar.” You rolled your eyes before handing him a treat.

“I don’t need your assistance human.”

“Oh?” You raised your brow. “I don’t remember you sprouting a pair of arms to help yourself, unless, if I’m mistaken, your wings can magically turn into hands.”

“Well if I wasn’t stuck in this form I would be able to do as I wish, but woe is me.”

“I can’t believe you have a stupid bird as a familiar. Wish you got something cooler instead.” Harper rolls her eyes at Edgar as she passes by on her way to drop her things in her room.

“How dare you.” Edgar held his head high. “I am not just any bird. I am a great poet! A writer!”

My goodness, the drama on this bird. You had only met Edgar Allan Poe once, but now it looks as if the fame had got into his head.

“Harper! Make sure to do your homework.” You turn to call after her, only to hear her mimic your English accent.

“Did you just mock me?” You asked with a scoff.

“..........no?”

Maleficent hissed at Edgar, which made him spread his wings and squawk in threat. “Get that thing away from me!”

“Maleficent is harmless.” You rolled your eyes as you set her down. “Besides, it’s not as if she’s going to tear through your cage.”

“I get no respect around here.” Edgar let out a little huff before turning away from you, obviously giving you the silent treatment.

I swear to god this raven is the biggest brat.

“Suit yourself.” You shake your head before making your way to the kitchen to see Melanie preparing a meal.

“Smells delicious.” You tell her as you stand next to her. “Is that vegetarian shepherds pie?”

“It is! I know how much you like those.” Melanie smiles at you, before turning back to her food and gesturing to the the little strawberry tarts.“Et voici, tarte aux fraises. I hope they’re as good as the ones mama makes.”

“They look absolutely wonderful Melanie. And I bet they taste just as great as your mother’s.” You squeeze Melanie’s shoulder before you call out to your sister as you set the table. “Harper! Dinner!”

“Alright! I’m coming!” She shouts back at you, making you smile and shake your head.

“So I’m guessing you’re fine?” Melanie eyes you while finishing up her dish.

“I took care of it. I’m much better now, thanks.”

“And what about him? What about Jasper?”

“Jasper?” You look up at her, feeling that same tightness in your chest from the mere mention of him.

“Mon amie.” Melanie rolls her eyes lightheartedly. “I’m not stupid. I know how much he meant to you. I just want to make sure you’re okay, you know, after seeing him when it’s been so many years.”

“I was just, shocked, if anything. I never expected to come across him again.” You look down at your hands, playing with the loose threads on the sleeves of your sweater. “But, he doesn’t remember me, so I’m fine. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“If you say so.” Melanie sighed, she knew you weren’t okay, and she knew how much his presence ate at you. But she didn’t want to pressure you into focusing on this subject.

The dinner that Melanie made that night was delicious, the perks of having a best friend that was French and a kitchen witch. You had to remind Harper not to scarf down her food so she wouldn’t choke, only to receive a glare, as always. After dinner you and Harper retired to your rooms while Melanie went back to her little cottage that she preferred to stay in that was right next door to your manor. Maleficent decided to sleep with Harper that night. You were already changed out of your clothes and into your long white nightgown, cuddling into your blanket to do your nightly reading of classic literature before crashing out from exhaustion.

The night was dark and foreboding, and the skies were pitch black like the ink of a pen, and the air was crisp as the wind blew sharply through the trees. The thick clouds blanketed the sky, concealing the stars of their beauty and stripping away any form of light besides the moon. It was a full moon that night. And despite the stormy clouds that desperately tried to overpower the moon, the moon still managed to cast some light, illuminating part of your bedroom in this haunting glow. You were lying in your bed, buried beneath your blanket in a deep sleep with the windows slightly down to let in the cool breeze. You had a few candles lit to add some light to your darkened room, when suddenly, your clock struck 3. The wind came to a stop, and your room became disturbingly still. Not a moment later the candles in your room strangely went out all at once, leaving you in complete darkness. There wasn’t the slightest sound, not even the hooting of an owl, nor the sound of a leaf falling to the ground. Everything was as silent as the grave.

Then, as if on schedule, the temperature in your room dropped drastically, and you shivered, clutching your blanket closer to you. Still in a state of deep sleep, you began to have a nightmare. You remember seeing yourself in a beautiful wedding dress. You were waiting for someone, but no one came. The scene slowly shifted around you, then all you could see was fire, this bright and threatening fire. You looked around but the flames were the only things you saw, it completely obscured your vision. The flames seemed to surround you, enveloping you in this smoldering heat. You felt yourself sweat profusely while desperately choking for air, but to no avail, the smoke burned your lungs, you couldn’t breathe. And then there it was, that horrifying noise. That blood curdling scream of a woman in pain. It was your own. Your agonizing screams pierced your ears and the stench of burning flesh stung your nose. It was your own. You looked down in horror to see the flames licking at your flesh, leaving behind these gruesome wounds. You were being burned. Your screams never ceased to stop, but they were muffled by the chants of others. You tried to cry out for help, but no one came. No one cared. You couldn’t even see the faces of the voices. You could only hear those chants, over and over again. It was only a nightmare. And yet, the pain felt real. It all felt too real.

You woke up abruptly from your nightmare. It felt as if your whole body was set on fire in this excruciating pain. You were drenched in sweat resulting to your hair being matted to your face. You tried gasping for air, you tried to scream. But no sound came out. You tried to move but you stayed frozen to your bed, you could only move your eyes. Your eyes shifted frantically around your room and widened in horror at what they saw. You saw your mother in the corner as she stared at you with these white, dead, lifeless eyes. A rope was tied around her bruised neck which was bent at an unnatural angle. Your heart pounded in your chest as you tried to cry out for help but you couldn’t, the only sound that came out was a whimper as you watched her walk towards you, wailing your name. Tears pooled in your eyes and fell down the sides of your face as the furniture in your room started to shake. You then saw your father appear before you, those cold and calculating eyes stared back into yours. You had his eyes, those cold heartless eyes, and that sinister gaze that terrified you as a child become your own. You watched as your father’s cloaked figure brought out his hands, displaying a whip in one and a heated branding iron in the other.

“(Y/N!) You insolent child!” He boomed in his raucous tone that made you tremble with fear. Bloody boils began to appear on his skin, gradually turning into decay as pieces of his flesh began to fall off, one by one, revealing the bone underneath. “Look at what you’ve done to me! You demon! You bitch!”

You shut your eyes against the terrifying image, your breathing growing more rapid by the minute. He wasn’t real. He died many years ago. He can’t hurt you. And yet, the pain that you now felt said otherwise. The long slashed scars that covered your back and the brand on the left side of your chest still burned as if they had just been inflicted.

There was a knock on your bedroom door, making you open your eyes back up.

“(Y/N?)” you heard Harper’s muffled voice on the other side. “What’s going on?”

She tried to open the door, but couldn’t. The door was locked. You tried to cry out for her, but you couldn’t. You still remained frozen. Your parents had disappeared, but now another ghostly figure stood at the foot of your bed. It was you. You saw yourself standing at the foot of your bed, wearing that same wedding dress from your dream with your face barely hidden behind the white veil.

You heard Harper call out for you again, struggling with the door handle, but your eyes remained glued to the apparition of yourself.

“We deserved this. We are monsters.” The face of this manifestation of yourself was blank and conveying no emotion, yet it was filled with such heartbreak and pain. You saw yourself erupt into flames, the veil burning away to reveal your scarred face as it reached a skeletal hand out towards you. “He could never love a thing like you. No one can.”

Tag List: @shakespeareanbooty @justine-en @5sosfanforever2001 @bitchy-witchy-post-mortem @holyhumorliteraturelight @toomanybandstocare @twilight-kpop @cricketlicket @ashdab2611 @pancake-pages @elisemurphy06 @ineffabledears @seraphpheonix @bella-stenbakken

I can't identify the emotion this woman's commentary is making me feel

Cowboy (TLWA: Moments)

A/n Hello! And welcome to my drabble/one-shot continuations of “The Long Way Around!” I’ll post the stories on my masterlist in order, but I’ll be writing and releasing them out-of-order. This is just a fun way for me to return to one of my favorite stories to live in <3. Can be read alone or after reading TLWA. 

Pairing: Jasper x Reader

Word count: 693

Warnings: Innuendo

Y/n’s POV

I sprawl stomach-down on the bed, enjoying the plushy feel of the duvet cloth. Sun filters in through the open window, reaching just far enough to touch my hands and side of my face, causing them to sparkle. The book I’m reading, some architectural guidebook Esme lent me, is interesting enough to briefly hold my attention, but not exactly captivating. I flip the page, absently skimming as I consider my plans for the evening.

The rustle of fabric and a warm, comforting scent travels up the stairs.

Jasper.

I bite back a smile, pretending to very intently read my book. The moment he enters the room, I’ll pounce. My emotions are probably tipping him off, but there’s no way he can tell if I’m going to fight him or take his clothes off, seeing as I haven’t decided yet.

Though, I guess both is an option.

Yeah, both sounds good.

I turn another page, nodding solemnly as if I’m reading something profound.

A heavy clicking sounds against the hardwood floor. I still don’t look up, wanting to maintain the element of surprise.

“Howdy there, Darlin’.”

I grip the edges of my book a little tighter. Jasper rarely accentuates his accent, but now, he’s leaning in hard and dragging out every syllable.

It’s simultaneously hilarious and delicious.

Seeing he failed to bait me the first time, he tries again. “Ma’am, if you wouldn’t mind liftin’ your head right quick? I promise, ya won’t regret it.”

Alright. I’ll let him have this one. I can always try out my plan again later, anyway.

I raise my eyes.

And nearly fall off the bed with laughter.

“Jasper, what the heck!”

He grins, spreading his arms wide, which really only makes me laugh harder, as this exposes the fringe hanging from his jacket.

I sit up straight, tossing my book to the side. “Turn around,” I giggle. “Let me see the whole thing.”

He lifts a hand to his head and tilts the ridiculously large cowboy hat. “Yes, ma’am.”

And despite his over-the-top outfit, I find the gesture a little hot.

Honestly, thank goodness my husband is sexy.

With his arms still spread wide, Jasper makes a slow circle, giving me a chance to scrutinize every angle of his outfit. Because it’s obvious a lot of work went into creating this ensemble. Thick leather boots paired with sharp spurs clank on his feet, the tips of the boots disappearing underneath his wide-legged pants. The pants slim out as they get closer to the top and hug his butt in a wonderfully obvious way. He wears a simple white shirt with a flashy, fringed vest pulled over it, complete with a ‘Woody from Toy Story’ star pinned to the left lapel. The aforementioned cowboy hat sits easily on his head, perched atop of his honey-blond waves.

I whistle.

“Why Mr. Whitlock, I dare say that outfit quite becomes ya. Why don’t you mosey on over here and give your wife a closer look?”

He grins, tilting one side of his mouth higher than the other in that tantalizing way, and takes a slow step in my direction. He leans down to kiss me, bringing a hand to grip my face in that way I love—

—and I burst out laughing again.

“What,” he groans, playfully exasperated.

“I’m sorry,” I giggle. “The fringe on that ridiculous jacket tickled my neck, and then I had to confront the jacket up close and I just—” I sigh, still shaking with laughter. “It got me.”

Jasper squints, resting his arms on either side of my legs as he leans over the edge of the bed. “C’mon, Darlin,’ now you’ve got me all acock.”

I physically have to bite my own mouth to keep from sputtering. “A-what now?”

He grins cheekily. “Knocked over, astounded, defeated.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Been waiting to use that one, have ya?”

He tilts his hat again, this time pairing it with a wink. “Yes ma’am.”

Rolling my eyes, I rid him of that awful jacket and pull him back down for a kiss.

Maybe I’ll be kind and save a horse or two.

A/n Let me know what you thought and if you would like to be added/removed from the tag list! 

Tag list: @meri-soni-meri-tamanna @one-thread-can-save-a-life @salsameter @enchantedcruelsummer @meashy-moo @sana-li @femflorals @80strashbag @tomisbaeholland @heyimval13 @triscuitcracker @sleepywinnie847 @vexingcosmos @avalongrey @artms-blnd @blackloveangel13 @dark-night-sky-99 @itsalonelygirlinalonelyworld @equallyguilty @foolsgoldxo @peppamultifanimagines @wayward-river @twilight-kpop @lemondropirwin @blueki16 @demidia @ironicwasteland

Be sure to check out my masterlist!

This is simply amazing

Any sort of safety I’d felt with these strangers vanished as soon as I saw him.

He was blond, like the first, but taller and leaner. His skin was absolutely covered in scars, spaced most thickly together on his neck and jaw. A few small marks on his arm were fresh, but the rest were not from the brawl today. He had been in more fights than I could have imagined, and he’d never lost. His tawny eyes blazed and his stance exuded the barely contained violence of an angry lion.

mutuals mb | @romanced

Tips That Can Save Your Kid’s Life.

THIS IS IMPORTANT 

When I was a child, from the time I was about four and could understand things, my mom told me and my brother that we should have a secret word. That way, if we were ever in trouble or felt unsafe and we didn’t want the people around us to know we needed her to come get us, we could let her know. So she let us pick the word and my brother and I chose the phrase “peanut butter cups.” (I’m happy to share the phrase now since both my brother and I are adults now). 

I used the phrase twice in my life. Once, I was at a friends house when I eight years old. Her dad got really drunk and was throwing things against the wall. I was really scared and I didn’t want to draw attention to myself on the phone when I called my mom to come get me because I didn’t know if he would get more violent if I asked her to come get me. So I called her and was calm and after a couple minutes I asked “Hey mommy, did you get me those peanut butter cups from the store?” And she said “I’ll be right there.” And she came and got me within minutes. 

Second, I was a teenager spending the night at a friends house. Her brother and dad were drinking and they started talking about things that made me uncomfortable - ie: what they liked to do to women. My friend didn’t seem perturbed and said that was normal for them and that I shouldn’t worry. But I was worried because they were really drunk and I was 15 and the only ‘woman’ around that wasn’t related to them. I went in my friends room, told her I needed to call my mom and say goodnight. Before I hung up with her I asked “Next time we go to the store, can we get some peanut butters cups? I’ve been craving them.” And she came and got me, just like that. 

Two incidents, one as a young child, one years later as a teen. Don’t discredit this stuff, it fucking works. My brother used it a few times too. Let your child pick the word and no never, ever, ever, ever get mad at them for using it no matter what it is. 

DO NOT SCROLL PAST THAT.

Off topic, but very important! I was taught to yell “this is not my mom/dad.” A young kid freaking out in public is likely to be ignored out of embarrassment, but a kid telling you right out that they don’t know who is messing with them? That will turn heads.

I was also always taught that unfortunately, sometimes people ignore stressful situations that they witness (bystander effect). So yelling something like “fire!!” can get more people’s attention than “help me!!”. Just in case you or a loved one is in a dangerous situation and people are just walking past.

eating disorders need to be handled differently. Im going off, sorry in advance.

He talked about them as if they were a crime. He told us how to know if someone has an ed (they’ll wear baggy dark clothing, they’ll avoid food), and to tell on them. He told us it’s for women only. We made jokes about it. We had to watch a movie where a girl dies while having an ed and her best friend lives on feeling horrible about being her ed buddy while she was alive.

This movie was full of tips on how to hide an ed that i remember 7 years later. He must not have interpreted it that way. 

I learned to be a better liar and i learned that people will hate me and pity me and find me revolting and call me ignorant and force feed me with a tube in a hospital if they ever found out. 

So i kept quiet. 

They made me feel some of the most intense shame i’d ever felt. I felt stripped naked.

They took away my coping mechanisms (internet, tumblr account, certain TV shows, scale). They didn’t allow me to heal by choice or leave my coping mechanisms behind on my own because they thought my ed was a silly girl thing that I could quit whenever. But it wasn’t ever that simple.

Without my coping mechanisms, I turned to self harming.

To this day, the memory makes me shudder and reminds me to distrust them. They handled it horribly.

PEOPLE NEED TO STOP HANDLING THIS HORRIBLY. NOW.

The only thing that ended up helping was when i was forced to go to therapy. I was resistant at first. But my therapist was educated on the topic, took me seriously, and helped me handle my ed safely to slowly and comfortably to recover rather than shame me to shreds so i could stop being a nuisance. 

Recovering took YEARS. It was not a simple decision like everyone told me it should be. But even with my current relapse, I know how to be safe about this and how to avoid hurting myself.

Here’s what i wished they told me in high school.

Having an eating disorder shouldn’t be such a shameful thing. No wonder people rarely try to get help on their own when it’s framed as a joke or when people can handle it so horribly. 

It needs to stop. 

We need knowledgeable people in schools teaching students these things so we can create more understanding eventual adults and overall, a less stigmatized culture. 

UPDATE: i am not pro ana, so: 

please stop asking me in the comments what the name of the movie was. I am just going to delete the comments asking and delete comments that mention the name of the movie. I don’t mean to be rude and i hope it doesn’t come off that way, I’m just doing the same thing i’d do if someone came into my inbox asking for ana tips. Even if that wasn’t the intention of the people who asked, i could see someone using the movie in that way and I’d hate to have enabled that. 

Thanks.

ten inch dick aka longer than my forearm

i know there are some writers who follow me

please

take note

I believe the average is 6 inches? The longest is 14, an he suffers dizziness when he gets a boner, and even though he’s heterosexual, he can only have sex with men (or anally with women) as his cock can’t fit in a vagina.

So writers, take note.

jesus h. christ

I once had a boyfriend who was quite well-endowed, and that was some painful, annoying shit right there (especially with a selfish dude who didn’t really think about that/blamed me for being “tiny,” what the fuck). The average vagina is 3-4 inches deep, though some women may have a depth of 6-7 inches.

Of course, a lady’s Sarlaac Pit is designed to accomodate rather large things. That does not, however, mean that it is comfortable or fun to have those large things in your hermetically-sealed shame basket, not to mention have it ramming repeatedly against your cervix. Ow fucking ow.

Contrary to popular belief, bigger is NOT ALWAYS BETTER.

A rectum can be between 5-7 inches deep. A pliable dildo could push past that, taking that sharp curve into the large intestine, if you’re patient and flexible and you have a lot of lube at your disposal. And you don’t mind things being in your INTESTINES, oh my God. A hard dick, however, that isn’t so bendy, would be another story entirely.

So if you’re shooting for realistic sex and your bottom isn’t into pain, you may want to reconsider giving your top anything over 7-8 inches of dick. 10+ inches might sound awesome but like Communism, for most people at least, it’s better in theory than it is in practice.

This very NSFW and TMI-imbued post brought to you by all the fucks I do not give.

Oh and if anyone accuses me of kink shaming I will find you and I will skin you.

ive learned a lot today omg

i think the last of my innocence just got killed reading this

#huge dicks are like communism

I reblogged this yesterday but I just have to reblogg again for ^

Just a heads up that 6 inches isn’t the average, 6 inches is considered a big dick

The average penis size is between 3 to 5 inches when flaccid and 4 to 6 inches when hard

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Human_penis_size

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Testicle#Size

Here’s approximately what the *exactly average* (according to wikipedia) 5.17″ length by 4.59″ circumference erect adult human penis looks like.

(the scrotum size was a bit harder to get a read on but I tried my best with the 2″x.8″x1.2″ balls)

Desktop Hard Drive for scale.

I feel like anyone who likes dicks and sex should be informed about this

My cervix was not meant to be railed

Thanks for the Anatomy lesson. You learn something new every day.

Reblogging for Hermetically Sealed Shame Basket

I love Leah

I hope he wins the lawsuit, a police officer was finally doing the right thing and they penalize him for not being a racist monster!

his name is stephen mader and not only did he refuse to shoot, he actively wanted to help the man (ronald ‘rj’ williams) because he could tell that he was only acting out because of mental illness. rj williams was suicidal and holding an unloaded gun and, while mader didn’t shoot him, a fellow officer (ryan kuzma) did and murdered him on the spot. here is the source and here’s to hoping rj williams gets justice

“Saying the words ‘Just shoot me’ sent up the red flag that he was just trying to harm himself and no one else … That’s what made me make my decision. He needed help” I hate this fucking world. The guy was actually trying to do his job by actually desculating the situation the right way (desculating these days apparently just means shoot them) and was fired for “failing to eliminate a threat.”

HE WON THE LAWSUIT AND GOT $175,000

I read this whole story. It is wild !! The conversations between him and his ex coworkers about what went down that day 😧😶

Listen to it all here:

when I say there are no good cops, this is part of the reason why.

“good cops” lose their jobs for doing the right thing.

“good cops” die mysteriously after whistleblowing.

“good cops” are forced to choose between their livelihood and becoming just like the rest.

Imagine marrying someone and he asks you to roleplay but his idea of roleplay is teacher-schoolgirl or librarian-client or some other boring shit? Excuse me sir, you’ve married a CERTIFIED fan fiction reader. We ARE recreating an entire Mafia-AU including a kidnapping, an arraigned marriage, fight to the death, enemies to lovers slow burn >200 000 word script, and I need it acted out FLAWLESSLY. You have unleashed a MONSTER, you good sir, and you have no idea what you’re getting into.

9. Once Upon a Southern Night

Not So Far-Fetched

Warnings: SMUT, language, fluff, and a little angst

The wedding was absolutely perfect. Of course, Alice designed the entire affair, everybody else but you and Jasper a slave to her incessant ordering.

You got married on a sunny day back in the country, just a few miles Jasper’s old home town which was nestled far out into secluded woods with a grand, wooden barn and southern mansion nearby a quiet stream

Your dress was sleeveless and made of immaculate white silk that trailed behind you in the rose petal walkway to your groom, standing under a flower arch of candles and flowers. Alice, Rosalie, and Amelia were your bridesmaids—and Ivy, though she whined and cried from home—was not invited.

And when the wedding was over, Jasper flew you out to Havana where a pastel yellow house waited on the shoes of the beach. Little antique cars zoomed past on the streets, people danced in skimpy swimsuits, lovers toured the old buildings, hands entwined.

Keep reading

“being any kind of happy is better than being miserable over someone you can’t have.” // leah clearwater

Waistcoat or lace cardigan in grey green with black lace trim ^^ For all about my designs, see: www. somniaromantica.com ^^

Their faces, so different, so similar, were all devastatingly, inhumanly beautiful.

Part 2 of my Twilight Fancast! Click here to see Part 1, the Volturi. Keep reading for the names of the faceclaims. 

Keep reading

holy shit

Their faces, so different, so similar, were all devastatingly, inhumanly beautiful.

Part 2 of my Twilight Fancast! Click here to see Part 1, the Volturi. Keep reading for the names of the faceclaims. 

Keep reading

holy shit