Imagine requested by @aprilgirl03 | “
Also can I get a imagine of you finding out you’re pregnant but not wanting to tell Jasper because you think he might not want the baby because of what Bella went through but Edward ends up telling him? (Sorry if this is so long 😂) thanks again 💗
You sat down on the toilet, not knowing what to do or how to
feel. The little pink lines appeared on the tiny screen in your hands. You felt
as though the world was crashing around you. How were you going to tell Jasper?
How would he feel and what would happen?
You decided not to tell him and talk to Edward instead. He
was a big brother to you, and since he’s been through this before, you knew he
would be the most understanding.
“Edward, can I speak to you for a minute?” You asked him,
motioning for him to follow you into the next room. He was sitting in his
living room, playing with his daughter. He could already hear your thoughts and
didn’t hesitate to follow you.
“Are you serious?” He asked you, looking you over once. “Jasper’s?”
You nodded knowing that it wasn’t going to be easy to keep
things from Edward anymore.
Edwards frozen face worried you until he smiled. “I’m going
to be an uncle.” Your eyes widened in shock at his excitement. “Does Jasper
You ferociously shook your head. “You can’t tell him,
Edward. I’m scared that he’ll get pissed off at me because he knows what’s
going to happen. It happened with you and Bella, remember?” You pointed to your
“But look at what became of that. We have a beautiful daughter
and a happy family that is ever growing.” Edward said, taking your hands in
his. The worried look on your face wasn’t going away.
“Fine, I won’t tell him, but he will find out eventually.”
Edward said. He kissed your cheek and walked back over to his daughter who was
watching a movie.
You sighed as you watched Edward with his daughter and
started unconsciously rubbing your tummy. Leaving them to their day you went
grocery shopping with a lot on your mind.
It was a few hours before you returned back home and you
felt an uneasy shift in the atmosphere. Pulling up to the front of the Cullen house,
you saw Rosalie, Emmett, and Edward standing outside waiting for you.
“What’s going on guys?” You asked getting out of your car.
“Jasper has gone hiatus looking for you.” Emmett said with a
“Why?” You asked dropping the groceries.
Rosalie looked at Edward and then back at you. “Edward might
or might not have gotten into an argument about someone with a secret.” She
said walking up to you and taking the bags you dropped.
You turned your glaring gaze onto Edward. “YOU TOLD HIM!?”
You screamed, knowing that it wouldn’t do anything.
“I didn’t mean to. He knew something was off with you and
with me. He said you were keeping to yourself lately and I just…couldn’t help
myself.” Edward said ducking his head as a shoe flew through the air.
Hopping towards him with only one shoe left to throw you
screamed obscenities at him. You were almost close enough to deliver him a good
one when two strong arms encircled your waist.
“That’s enough of that, sunshine. Time to take you for a
little walk.” Jaspers voice filled your head and you immediately calmed down.
You turned to look at him and started crying.
“I’m so sorry Jasper.” You said, clinging to him. “I wanted
to tell you but I got scared.”
He lifted your chin and planted a sweet kiss on your lips. “Let’s
walk and talk shall we.” He said lifting you into his arms and carrying you
away from the house.
He carried you until you were close to a pond where he sat
you down on his lap on a fallen tree. He had his arms wrapped around you,
holding you tightly but not too much that it was uncomfortable.
The silence was piercing so you decided to start. “Jasper
please forgive me for being so careless. I didn’t mean to let it get this far.
I don’t even remember how this happened.” You said, pulling his hand to your
face and resting your cheek against his palm. “I was going to tell you, I just didn’t
want you to be angry.”
He shifted you slightly until you were able to see his face.
His golden eyes piercing your thoughts and making you feel calm and loved. “I
could never be angry at you for something that I did, darling.” His sweet texan
accent was heaven to your ears. “In
fact, I’m really excited about being a father. I’ve always wanted children but…well…you
know.” He said snuggling into your neck. You took a deep breath, feeling all of
your worries leave your body.
“It’s going to be difficult but we will find a way to do it.”
He said rubbing your tummy and kissing your neck. “I’m going to be a father.” He
said whispering into your ear. Chills ran down your body as you relaxed into
his arms, knowing that things were going to be just fine.
“My money’s on Edward.” Evie said with a bemused expression.
“As if.” Connor retorted. “Jacob clearly has an upper hand with his youth.”
“Exactly. Edward has experience.”
“I’m surrounded by idiots.” Shay groaned. “Clearly, it’s Altaïr.”
Evie rose a brow. “He’s not even participating.”
Shay simply watched the backyard with a smile. The Assassins looked at one another, shruggled, and watched the fight.
“OK boys, fight fair.” Altaïr warned. “No weapons, no hair pulling, and no dirty tricks. Ready? Begin!”
Edward and Jacob, both shirtless, pranced around the perimeter of the make-shift boxing ring. It was really just a large square outlined by string, but who said Assassins didn’t have imagination?
“You’re going down, mate.” Jacob grinned.
“I’m your dreams, mate!” Edward retorted, and pounced. He went for Jacob’s left shoulder, which he defended valiantly, before switching the his right and landing an uppercut.
Jacob fell to the ground, but stuck out a leg as Edward attempted to pin him down. He kicked his sternum, lifting Edward, and pushing him back. Now given some room, Jacob jumped onto his feet and squared up once more. Edward rushed him, going for his side, but Jacob was prepared and tackled him. The two wrestled a bit, until Jacob squat down, wrapped his arms around Edward and lifted him. Then he flipped him onto his back.
With the breathe knocked out of him, Edward gasped. Jacob enjoyed his defeat, pinning the pirate down with his knees, and grinned down at him.
Edward head butt him.
Jacob released his hold and grabbed his now blooded nose. Blood trickled down his chin.
“What the hwell, wate? No dwirty twicks!”
“I’m a pirate, mate, what did you expect?” Edward grabbed him and twisted his arm.
Jacob kicked back, hitting him in his manhood, and Edward winced. Jacob then wheeled around and kneed him in the stomach. The pirate fell, but kicked a foot out, clipping Jacob’s chin.
“Stop.” Altaïr said, but the boys kept on. The tricks became dirtier and the two more furious. “Stop.” Altaïr said in tone with a bit more authority, but nothing.
Jacob swung at Edward, who ducked and decked Altaïr in the face. The two kept fighting as everyone else just watched with wide eyes. Edward kicked at Jacob, who moved, and hit Altaïr by mistake. However, the Eagle of Masyaf was prepared and grabbed Edward’s boot as it made it’s way to his chest. He then twisted his leg, causing the pirate to fall face first on the grass. Without a break, he grabbed Jacob’s arm and flipped him, making him land on his back with a wheeze.
Both men groaned, bloody and beat.
“That’s 40 bucks.” Shay smirked, and Connor and Evie reached for their wallets.
I know I’ve been busy but when I realized that the blog’s second birthday was coming up, I couldn’t let that go by unnoticed. Just couldn’t happen. And I’m so proud to say that I beat my return-anxiety to draw something for the occasion! I also decided to publish @the-avengers-nerd‘s absolutely amazing fanart submissions today as another treat. She showed me them on Twitter a while ago and that’s the stuff that keeps me going tbh! I love seeing what you guys come up with, whether it’s a little doodle or a full page, I truly love them all.
I do have some news regarding the blog and updates and changes etc. but that’ll be a separate post I’ll type up after this. Again, I just want to say thank you all so much for sticking with me and this blog (some of you since the beginning!!) because it means the world to me. I was so scared to come back, even after unlocking, because I thought everyone would’ve
either forgotten about me or been mad at me for being inactive. In the last year, I’ve encountered so much unkindness from the fandom and it’s definitely had an effect on me, but you guys have never made me feel unwelcome or ashamed of my work, I’ve only ever felt love and support on here. I know this might all sound kinda artificial or generic but I mean every word! Really and truly with all my heart, thank you!!!! Here’s to another year!! ❤
A/N — I had these prompts on my list and I do not know why I wrote this but I did and I’m posting it despite the fact I will probably regret it.
“So, love, what do we do about that?”
“I don’t know.”
“Why does it look so angry?”
“I don’t know.”
“Edward, my vast knowledge of ducks begins and ends at nothing. I do not know.”
It had been a lovely day—a late picnic by the secluded lake that most people had seemed to forget even existed and a fair amount of splashing around in the water afterward. It had been years since you’d been to the lake and you couldn’t help but feel nostalgic over your visit, but, upon returning to your vehicle, there was a duck sat on the hood, staring at you like you had single-handedly destroyed its life.
“Well? Go fight it Edward.”
“You’re the one always wanting to fight, you fight it.”
“Is this seriously happening? Do you seriously want me to fight a duck? Edward, I don’t even crush spiders—unless they touch me—I am not fighting an innocent-” The moment the word had left your mouth the duck decided you’d wandered too close and lunged at you, tearing a scream from your throat as you dived behind Edward.
Over Edward’s booming laughter you shouted at the duck about having it for dinner, slipping a few insults you’d picked up from Edward into the fray of your own unique insults.
“What happened to it being innocent?”
“It’s a demon.”
“Then why don’t you fight it?"
”Fine, I will!“
You approached the vehicle, ignoring Edward’s snickers as you prepared for the duck to make a move to attack you. ”What is my life?“ You sighed, "Hey, get off my car!” You ran toward the car, trying to intimidate the duck off of the car, but it dived straight for you again and you immediately did a 180, returning to Edward again.
You punched his arm, but it did nothing to stifle his laughter.
“I shouldn’t have picked a fight with a duck. We should call the cops or something. This is ridiculous.”
“So, does this mean you lost a fight with a duck?”
Edward Cullen imagine requested by aniqua! “Hello, I have begun reading your writing and I am very impressed. I would like to let you know that you are an amazing writer and you bring the characters off the page really well, in a way that is difficult to do. May you do an Edward imagine? One where he is trying to distance himself from the reader in hopes of protecting her, but he ends up unable to stay away.” Hope you like it!
Your vision had been obstructed by his face, his skin as flawless as you had imagined, now mere centimeters from your eyes. His gaze was trained on your face, your shock reflecting vividly in his ocher irises, your lips parted in awe. He had never been this close to you; in fact, he seemed to go out of his way to distance himself from you. He parked on the opposite end of the lot, his silver Volvo gleaming like the day it was constructed beneath a plentiful coating of sterling raindrops. You rarely crossed paths in the hallways, and if you did, his Hulk of a brother stood between him and the rest of the student body, caging him in against the wall of lockers. But now… he was close enough touch with an ill-timed fluttering of your eyelashes, his lips pursed in a thin, stern line, his pupils unmoving on yours. You hardly noticed the chill of his hand against your back, though it seemed to be the only point of contact outside of the intrusive attention he supplied with his eyes. The temperature was easily disregarded, but the feel of his palm spread against your spine, his fingers clutching to the folds of your rain-slick jacket… you could never have let that slip under the radar. He exhaled, surprising you with the intensity of his breath, both in force as well as in scent; he seemed pained somehow, though he gave no sign of discomfort, even in your so precarious position. The perfume of his breath was intoxicating, inexplicable. His forehead dipped to touch yours, though only for a fraction of a second. His brow furrowed over closing eyes, his forehead wrinkling with strain, his lips downturned at the corners as he lifted himself from above you, tilting your body with his until you were both standing straight as boards, and his body as rigid. He ground his teeth, his eyes flashing open, the intensity of his gaze returning. His lips parted, allowing speech, but not much else.
“I…” he began, his voice silken, even at his most vulnerable, his most uncomfortable. Only his face betrayed the extent of his unease. When he spoke, his voice had tarnished some, but remained as shining and beautiful as ever. The only difference was the gravel in his tone: whatever troubled him was clearly taking its toll. “You need to stay away from me.”
You’d hadn’t seen much of him since that day. In fact, you hadn’t seen much of him before that day, either; his so livid objection to your company seemed to have evolved within the course of one class period. You couldn’t recall an offense you could have laid against him that would cause so potent a reaction; Hell, you didn’t even have a class with him. You’d gone to English, as usual, you’d joined your class in the routine stabbing of your fingertips in Biology, though you weren’t exactly keen on bleeding), you’d had lunch, all was normal. When the Cullens entered the cafeteria, you noticed a distinct shift. The beautiful boy was burning holes in the side of your head from his secluded table, surrounded by his silent, unmoving family members. There was no mistaking the subject of his gaze; his eyes never once left your face. Though you observed him mostly from your peripheral, you’d managed to catch his eye once, and what you saw in him was frightening. He hadn’t adverted his gaze, hadn’t falsified indifference; his eyes, dark then beneath the fluorescents, refused to shift a fragment of an inch from your face. When the bell rang, he was by your side at the exit, flanked by his older brothers (both had followed mere steps behind his rapid pursuit, their eyes glued to the back of his tousled hair, fighting to meet his eye), and Edward had reached for your arm, his fingertips brushing against your flesh in an almost… affectionate manner, though his eyes hungered for something dangerous, something alluring. You couldn’t help but project your fear upon your face; he was terrifying. Your interaction was short-lived. His brothers managed to edge him away from you, their hands inconspicuously gripping tight to his wrist and elbow. If you hadn’t known better, you’d think they were dragging him away.
His touch lingered like venom throughout the rest of the day, but it was his eyes that scorched the blank expanse of your eyelids, scarring their image into your mind. You were distracted in your studies, your mind replaying the so curious event that had lead to his departure. He did not return to the school.
The next week, Emmett (you’d done some digging, he was the walking P90X commercial) was guarding his brother in the hallways… or acting as a buffer. Edward was mostly hidden from your view, but when he did catch your eye, you noticed something strange in his appearance. His dangerous, frightening eyes had changed colour. Your mind had regurgitated the image so often… had your memories somehow warped them? You would have sufficient time to drill yourself for answers in the coming days, but you were never presented with an opportunity to scrutinize Edward again. He didn’t return to school. His siblings were all present; the smaller one and the brother whose hold had seemed almost painful against his brother’s elbow, Emmett and his beautiful girlfriend, but Edward was gone. Maybe his actions had been a result of an illness. Victims find themselves incredibly hostile and obscenely charming. You couldn’t think of any viruses that would cause a host to reach out and trail their fingertips against someone’s skin in such an intimate way. It was the evening of his third day of absence when next you saw him, sheathed in the milky light of the moon, his skin was cast in a ghastly hue, your stomach twisting with anxious excitement; with the clouds passing shadow over his features, you couldn’t help but wonder if you ought to be afraid of this boy. He was, after all, lingering outside of your house. There was no other plausible explanation for how he had reached you so quickly. It shouldn’t have been so extraordinary; you’d simply tripped on your way to your front door, but instead of making contact with the edge of your aging and unfinished concrete driveway, you’d found yourself hanging in the elusive arms of Edward Cullen, his hand spreading along your spine as he balanced your staggering step, pulling you fluidly from the light shining from your porch. He’d saved you from what could have been a messy injury, but his presence, while appreciated, was a curiosity. He was wordless, searching for secrets within your eyes with an intensity that silenced your curiosity, your initial fear. Every emotion outside of awe fled from your body; here before you, he was devastatingly beautiful. His skin seemed to glow from within, or perhaps reflect the light of the moon, gleaming like the smooth curve of a pearl. He scent radiated from his chest in world-turning waves, enveloping you within his embrace, sealing you into his arms without struggle. There was no reason to struggle, at least none that you could fathom in that moment.
When he moved to stand and whispered his warning, you were entirely under his spell. When he spoke of a separation, your heart cracked within your chest. Hazy with the scent of him, you protested to his parting, your fingers clinging to the opened folds of his coat, watching his eyes target your movement, his forehead smoothing out as he concentrated on your hands. He had halted mid-step, his foot dropping to the ground, deserting his plan to step away.
“You shouldn’t do that,” he warned, speaking through his teeth, his voice a feather against your cheek, calm contrasting his physical restraint. His unoccupied palm covered your own, his velvet skin removing your hand from his chest until you were grasping nothing of substance. As much as you wished to revel in the foreign texture of his hand, Edward retracted his palm as quickly as he had raised it. Once more, his fingers left a mark on your skin, unseen but prominent, like a ghost of his contact. Your hands dropped, fluttering to your sides like wounded birds, your pulse racing in your ears. The questions you’d been steaming in your mind these past few days could not bubble to the surface, their urgency discarded. There were other inquiries occupying their vacancies, questions you hoped he could supply an answer to. Edward’s hand moved from your back, lingering on your hip when your voice interrupted his departure.
“Why should I stay away from you?” Your voice was surprisingly, thankfully, audible. You had worried, in the seconds before you decided to speak, that your voice would tremble in such close proximity to the mysterious boy. At your words, Edward’s hand, paused on your hip, relocated at the small of your back, securing you to his chest as he moved his body as close to yours as was possible, his eyes intensifying once more on yours. The hand that had held yours lifted now to graze against your cheek, his touch as soft and as gentle as a breeze. He smiled crookedly, faintly, his eyes softening above yours.
“Because I don’t have the strength to do it myself.” Before you could be distracted by the lingering kiss of his fingertips trailing along your cheekbone, you countered.
“I don’t understand,” you began, watching his brow furrow as he prepared for your statement, your eyes flickering from his wrist, so close to your cheek, to his lips, so much closer to yours. “How can you possibly find difficulty in avoiding someone you hardly know? Don’t know at all, actually. What makes this different from last week, or the week before? This is the most we’ve talked, Edward.” He ducked his head, his smile growing as he hid his face from view. as quiet as the night was, you could hear the catch in his breath when you whispered his name. When he raised his eyes, they were burning internally with an intangible fire, his features aglow with an emotion you couldn’t place, an expression you had never witnessed before. He licked his lips, his brow furrowing now in concentration, his eyes never leaving your face. His hand on your back tightened, though his embrace remained gentle.
“I may not know a great many things about you, your favourite colour, your favourite book, whether or not you enjoy the rain, your favourite albums and places you miss, I know enough to make it difficult to stay away. You… interest me. Everything about you calls for my attention.” He paused here, the corners of his mouth lifting as he thought back on your few interactions, content with his memories. ‘It’s in the way you walk, the warmth of your skin. It’s in the way you smell.” Your head bobbed backwards at the mention of such an observation, your eyebrows knitting together with the strength of your confusion.
“I don’t-” you started, your voice unsure. He shook his head, chuckling to himself.
“I don’t expect you to understand, not now, but trust me: it’s a compliment. I’ve… contemplated whether or not I would visit you these past few days, weighing my options, weighing the danger of a meeting, and though I could convince myself to stay distant, I found my mind wandering back to your face. Every corridor I encounter winds back to your door. I’ve been told my decision isn’t wise,” he sighed, his eyes rolling at the thought of those who would have had him keep his distance. “because of how I acted earlier last week. I could very easily lose control with you… you drive me mad, at times. I shouldn’t be alone with you, but I can’t stay away. You’re like a magnet, too strong to resist, too powerful to fight against.” His thumb brushed along your cheek, his skin frigid to the touch, and smooth as polished glass. You were struggling to keep up with his confession, but the talk of danger and magnetism, of maddening and being advised against… well, whatever it was you were experiencing now, was too intricate to decipher. There were far too many holes in his explanation to allow for complete understanding. “I decided tonight that I’m finished fighting my desire to be near you. You draw me in, and I can’t resist your pull any longer. I don’t want to. I’d very much like to know you better.” Your cheeks flushed crimson, and you hoped blindly that the moon was bright enough to wash the colour from your inflamed face. You watched in silent admiration as his angel’s face twisted with subdued humour. “But you should still keep your distance. I’m not a viable option for you, Y/n. I’m only weak, is all.” The way he said your name… there was a reverence in his tone that mirrored that of a priest’s, an affection you couldn’t match to so new an interaction. Though there were many traits in him that startled you, there was an overwhelming amount of traits that charmed, and try as you might you could not shake the thrill of his skin on yours. He was well-spoken and polite, gentle and cautious… and yet he was warning you against a relationship (in any sense of the word, but the placement of his hand lead you to lean towards a romantic investment) due to his belief that he could very well be a daner. It didn’t add up.
“How can you tell me all of this, do all of this, and still… tell me that it isn’t a good idea to be with you? You haven’t really presented as a threat. I mean, other than showing up by my house and catching me before I could fall. And the glaring. The glaring was…” You trailed off, his eyes on your face. You were certain now that they had been black before, but had since lightened to a honey-hued gold. “But, other than that, you’ve been pretty chivalrous. I’m not seeing the bad idea behind this.“ His smile returned, his lips tight.
“It is not without great difficulty that I can stand by you tonight. Your proximity, your warmth… you overwhelm me, Y/n, but I am wholly content to suffer in silence if you chose to trust me. Not that you should.” He offered a strained smile, his hands falling to either side of your waist. You trailed your fingers back to his jacket, tentatively folding your arms through his and clasping your hands around his back. The embrace was odd, for so new a relationship, but you couldn’t deny how right it felt to be holding him, to be held by him. You were at peace, even if he was not. His chin was angled away from you just sightly, his chest unmoving with his shallow breathing. His lips were once again a thin, rigid line. You hoped whatever difficulty he faced would soon dissipate; there was so much more to Edward that you cared to know, and quite honestly, it seems like you were causing him some sort of pain.
“We should probably start with dinner then,” you noted, smiling at his comically twisted expression. He chuckled, running his hands along your waist before detaching himself, his fingers running over your own before he allowed your hands to drop.
“That may not be the best idea.” He grinned at you, his cheeks glowing beneath the moon as he backed away from your side, walking himself towards the road. “We’ll figure something out.”
"I just like making people uncomfortable. Makes me feel better" Scriddler, I feel like Jon would say this at some point
Ask and ye shall receive!! xx
“I just like making
people uncomfortable,” Jonathan confessed, pouring himself a small
mug of coffee as his expression remained unrepentant, “because it
makes me feel better and I do not need any further justification than
that. Fear is my power.”
feigned confusion as he tilted his head, “What did you say? You
LIKE making people feel uncomfortable? What?!”
“Must you be so dramatic?” Arno threw his hands up and exclaimed, but Ezio wasn’t listening. He tore through the living room, and the commotion attracted the other Assassins from their hiding places. Arno had been cooking with he heard the crash from the living room.
Ezio now made his way to the kitchen, but Arno barred his way. If he thought he was going to let him ruin his soufflé, he had another thing coming.
“What are you looking for, mate?” Edward asked from the backyard door. They were having a cookout, so Edward just ducked his head inside. He wouldn’t risk over cooking the burgers for one of Ezio’s…adventures through the household.
“My wallet!” Ezio huffed. “I can’t find it anywhere!”
“Have you checked-“ But Ezio cut Jacob off with a groan.
“I’ve checked my room, your rooms-”
“You went through our rooms?” Connor glared, “If you took my hair gel again, I’ll-”
“I checked the my cars, your cars-!“
“Tread carefully.” Edward glared. “If you so much as scratched Baby-”
“I can’t find it anywhere.” Ezio huffed and collapsed onto the overturned couch cushions on the floor. He sprawled out, dramatic as always, and Jacob walked over and nudged him.
“What?” Ezio had drapped an arm over his eyes, and Jacob just lifted him and reached for his back pocket.
“Woah there-” Ezio wiggled and looked wide eyed at Jacob, who now stood over him, wagging his wallet.
“It was in your back pocket.” He said, and handed it over. The Assassins dispersed, leaving Ezio on the ground, muttering about how he better clean up before the BBQ started.