#hozier is the one man i find attractive that isnt a fictional dad

[spanishinfluenza]

not sure who needs to hear this but you need to think about Carlisle waking up alone and cold in the cellar, his body thrumming with the residual ache of three-day agony. You need to think about him taking in his first conscious and lucid breath and it bringing him no relief. You need to think about this man, alone and scared and embarking on eternity without relief at just twenty-three years old. Stealing himself away in cellars and woods, casting himself to night and dark because his God no longer looks upon him. His flesh gored and sealed, permenant reminder of what he is and the danger he poses. Watching the life he used to have from the shadows, his father growing older and more weary still and aching to bridge the gap between that life and the unlife he now lives just so he might sew the two fabrics together and mend a relationship he never had. His mother appears instead at his father's aged side, his silent ghostly accompany, a figment of his imagination. He wanders alone with her, leaving those fabrics distant and wasting because to thread himself back into his own life would condemn his people to his murder. He runs away from his town, his throat burning with the urge, the overwhelming compulsion to bite into his own father's neck and drain him of the feeble blood within, to tear the limbs off of his own childhood nurse and gorge himself on the blood of her children. Terrified of himself and the visions of massacre behind his eyelids, he isolates himself, shuts himself away from civilisation and his mother, a figment of his dwindling sanity, looks on at him without a word, St. Peter's silent judgement in her eyes, offering him no comfort. He is The Beast, the Destroyer and the Devil himself squirms in the pit of his gut, tempting him with the thick wet pulsing of innocent heartbeats. He tears at his inpenetrable skin, wishing to expose breakable bone, fallible organs, something he might truly destroy, to wreak a biblical, atoning havoc to part heaven's gates. His skin mocks him in its resitance, his mother's eyes pity his screamed rage as he fails to rip himself open and committ his final deed. He sets his untouchable skin on fire only to find his hair singe off in purple smoke, his forearm unmarred. He finds himself wandering the trees alone, starved, feral, wishing for some kind of death, begging his mother to take him now, even if not to heaven, anywhere is better than inside this body. Finally he sees himself in the woods: the lame deer at his feet, begging for death too. And Carlisle jealously grants it, feeding himself finally. and as his senses return to him after months, he sees the evidence of his danger. His mother is no longer with him. He is alone again. He stops tearing at his skin, and with no one left to beg for mercy, he wanders forward into the woods once more.

not sure who needs to hear this but you should listen to In the Woods Somewhere by Hozier, boo

#carlisle cullen #hozier #listen i can and will assign every hozier song to a character from twilight #i will do it #i just have Feelings #newborn!carlisle feelings #yus yus #anyone else? #omg should i write his turning? #eh but Esme wont be there #and what am i writing for if not just to see more of her #basically my thoughts are that Carlisle finds his will to live in the woods somewhere #ngl i think its one of the most slept on songs #THE POETRY #hozier is the one man i find attractive that isnt a fictional dad #hozier sweetie you are holding my bisexuality together by a thread #mine #twilight