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mydearlybeloathed · 9 months ago

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── 𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐔𝐏𝐎𝐍 𝐀 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Long ago, you were cursed to one day sleep for an eternity—unless you’re presented with true love. You thought destiny couldn’t find you on the high seas, but when you're sorely mistaken, it's up to a certain swordsman to get his act together and rescue you from eternal sleep.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: zoro x princess!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 8.4k

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: tw blood, sleeping beauty au, meddling faeries here and there, stubborn swordsmen and lovelorn princesses, no use of Y/N, light angst, major fluff

𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: falling - timothy cole

𝐎𝐏 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝔒𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔲𝔭𝔬𝔫 𝔞 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢,

a very many years ago, twelve Wise Women from the Isle of Perminion—faeries was a more precise term, but they felt the label struck too much fear into their mortal fellows, and in this economy, faeries need willing clientele—were invited to the presentation of a young princess from an old kingdom. Each bestowed upon her gifts coveted by all. Beauty, grace, love, and the like.

It was the thirteenth Wise Woman who took it all back.

“You dare not invite me to this celebration of life? Fine. Forget me. But not before I give the princess my own gift. She’ll grow beautiful, wise, and loved, as my fellow Wise Women decreed—but one day she’ll lose all that to the prick of a spinning wheel and fall dead to my power!”

Your life had just begun, and had already gone to shit (forgive such undignified language, unfit for a princess, but really, you felt you deserved some leeway).

The whole of the kingdom knew the witch’s speech by heart, saying a prayer each night in the hope that their princess would be fortunate enough to never cross a spinning wheel in all her life. And from the rail of her tower’s terrace, the princess dreamed of someday joining them. Not in their prayers, but in celebration that even the worst curses are no match for the blessed princess of their kingdom. Blessed, as she once was, before the outrage of Carabose found her.

But that was only the dream of a foolish child.

Foolish dreams. You were cursed not only in the very literal sense but also by the paranoia of your parents, the king and queen of your revered nation. Not a soul outside the castle walls had seen their princess since the day of her introduction—the day you were cursed to one day cross the spindle of a spinning wheel, and die.

Well, not die. Your godmother, Rosalie—the twelfth Wise Woman and the only one that mattered in your opinion—had gifted you a chance at survival.

“The princess will not die upon pricking the spinning wheel. She shall only sleep till… till she receives a display of true, compassionate, unbridled love.”

It was the first thing Rosalie could think of that would lessen the blow of the witch’s spell.

And yet despite this security, your parents locked you away, terrified of what would happen to their little princess should she cross that fated hunk of wood. Honestly, it was beyond embarrassing being destined to be bested by a hunk of wood, but that’s just your luck, you supposed.

It was also just your luck that one day when you’d just barely given up all hope of living a fulfilling life, a certain crew of pirates found your kingdom, caused the uproar of the century, and managed to help you escape all in just two days.

With the wind in your face some months later, it seemed all your dreams of grandeur were coming true; far away from your castle, you sailed the seas with real friends at your side. You never worried about your curse, for why would you ever find a spinning wheel at sea? It was silly to fear the fate set before you.

Rosalie always told you that destiny cannot be fought, but look at you now, proving her wrong.

(It’s like you were asking for things to go wrong).

The day was windy and bright, with sparse clouds high above and cool grass underfoot. The Going Merry rest at the docks of the little coastal city, Usopp making repairs in record time. You couldn’t help but wish to go out and explore, taking full advantage of your freedom.

You took Zoro with you, of course. You’d never leave the ship without your loyal guard at your side.

Zoro. What to say about Zoro? In your opinion, he was probably the love of your life, if he ever got over himself and admitted he loved you too. Either way, you would never picture life without him by your side, even if he brushed off all your teasing advances with a roll of his eyes.

“Here,” you motioned him to your side, feeling warm inside with the familiar bump of his shoulder against yours. You picked up one of the ornate golden rings displayed at the market stall before you, grinning like a devil as you lifted your hand to measure it up against your skin. “What do you think? I prefer silver, but gold would match your earrings.”

Zoro, lovely and clueless Zoro, only tilted his head, aforementioned earrings chiming against one another. “I think it's nice, but why d’ya wanna match?”

By the time you slipped the ring on your fourth finger, he saw where this was going. “Hmm, no reason.” You handed the ring back to the seller and smiled up at Zoro’s perturbed, blushing face.

“Sorry, you’re just so easy to tease.” He grunted in reply, drawing another smile out of you. Your eyes got all misty, like they always did when you looked at Zoro, and the words escaped your lips before you could stop them. “Go out with me.”

Zoro kept his gaze firmly on the sky, his shoulders far too stiff to be comfortable. “We’re… too busy for stuff like that.”

It all felt like a mildly disappointing routine at this point; you asked, he dodged around giving you an explicit no. Perhaps if he actually got the nerve to deny you, you’d have given up, but Zoro always left you with that small hope that one day his answer might change.

Still, something in you held the strong consideration to give up. Lovelorn and yet hopelessly deep, it was a tempting option. Surely, pursuing someone so adamantly disinterested was a lost cause. But what if, you dared to call back, silencing your doubts.

“C’mon,” you relented. “I need some new fabrics.”

You scooped up his hand and he let you drag him down the street to a little boutique on the corner. The door rang when you entered, and Zoro tried to ignore how your hand still clung to his even as the door clicked shut behind you.

“I wanted to make Nami a new dress,” you said as you beelined for the shelf of various fabrics. “You know, to make up for the one I ripped.”

He didn’t try to pull back, only standing at your side as you skimmed your free hand over a set of pinks. “Still don’t get how you ruined it that badly. It was practically in two pieces.”

“You were there. I was in a tree.”

“But why?”

Your silly smile rose to meet his gentle grin. “Because I wanted to? You could have joined me, but no, you stayed all alone on the ground like a loser.”

“If I was in the tree, who would catch ya’ when you fell like an idiot?”

With a scoff, you let go of his hand and picked up some pink and blue fabric, failing to see him watch you longingly. “Touche.”

Zoro was never sure what to make of you—you were like nothing he’d ever faced before. The day you waltzed into his life and started up your little flirtation game was the day Zoro found his most formidable opponent in the love you shared so willingly.

There was your habit of getting into trouble too—trouble he often dragged you out of—which didn’t help much either.

Zoro thought princesses were meant to be graceful and poised, as Vivi was, but you toppled those expectations at the very foundation. At this point, it wasn’t really a question of if he returned your feelings, but if he was able to voice it. As far as Zoro was concerned, the answer would always be a firm no.

As you started to stack the pink and blue on your arm Zoro reached to take them from you, draping the fabric over his shoulder. He returned your appreciative smile with a slight nod, heart warm at how you doted on him with your eyes alone.

Yeah, it was better this way—you waiting for something that would never happen, and him standing stoic at your side, nothing but a loyal companion.

“Miss.” Your voice, calling to the cashier, broke him from his less-than-happy thoughts. “Have you got any purple?” You swiftly turned back to Zoro with a brief, “Robin said she likes purple.”

The cashier looked up from her book, pushing her glasses up her nose. “I just finished some this morning,” she said with a grin, getting up to lift the gate in the counter and motioning for you to follow her into the back of the shop. “I’ll show you.”

Zoro’s skin prickled as you glided after the cashier, shooting him a smile as you disappeared through the door. He was left standing with the odd sense that something was wrong.

Maybe it was the way a sudden draft hit his back despite there being no ventilation, or maybe it was the fact that you walked under a ladder earlier just to piss him off. Or, perhaps, it was the flash of green in the cashier’s eyes as she passed by a mirror.

Whatever it was, he stayed put, trusting he would be there to help you the moment you needed him. Zoro was always there when you needed him. Neither he nor you had reason to doubt this fact.

You felt completely at ease as you entered a small, dim room full of messy shelves, half-knit sweaters, and heaps of yarn. “Here,” the cashier pointed to a table at the center of the room. “Is this the shade you had in mind?”

A grin split your face as you felt the fabric, marveling at its softness. It was high-quality stuff, definitely not cheap. But you thought of Robin, who had done so much for you, and felt it was worth the possible loan from Nami.

“It’s perfect,” you replied. “How much?”

“Oh, it’s on the house.”

You startled instantly, eyes darting up to find the cashier absent from your side despite her voice being right in your ear. “Come again?”

“You can have it.” Turning slowly, you found the woman sorting through a surplus fo purple fabrics. “I have plenty.”

A gentle laugh escaped you. “Thank you so much. My friend will love it.”

The cashier swiveled on her heel and leaned against the table, head cocked to the side. Had her eyes always been so vibrant an emerald? They almost seemed to glow. “No, thank you, Your Highness.”

Chills ran up your spine at the formal address, all air expelled from your body as you choked out, “Pardon me?”

Caught up in the green of the woman’s eyes, you didn’t notice a misty tendril swirling up your body till it clouded your vision, directing your captured attention to the corner of the room. There in the shadows was a contraption you’d never seen before, yet you knew its purpose instantly.

The purple string being woven gave it away. How had you not noticed the spinning wheel before?

The fabric slipped from your fingers and fell to the floor in a lump. You darted for the door, yet your feet never moved an inch, cemented in place. Was that a tear on your cheek? No, it couldn’t be. You never cried. And yet, a salty streak ran from your eye to your jaw now, as if your body knew what your mind denied: your fate had caught you.

“Stop.” You weren’t sure who you spoke to. Your feet that started to creep toward the spindle? The husk of a woman, possessed by some evil spirit of a bitter sorceress? Destiny herself? Whoever you ordered refused to listen as you closed in on the wheel and raised a steady hand.

A half-lived life flashed before your eyes. A princess sat alone in a room, loneliness her only companion. A girl stood on a ship, tasting freedom for the very first time. A woman stared at a man, knowing this was what love felt like.

A light pinch shocked your whole body, and you finally broke from the spell to find your index finger pierced into the sharpest of spindles. A cackle echoed from every corner of the room as the cashier collapsed on the spot.

One thought broke through your slowly fading mind. Traitorous, wobbly feet took you to the door, flinging it open and leaning you against the doorframe. Your heavy eyes ached, Zoro’s voice so far away. You didn’t feel his hands on your arms as you sank to the floor.

Your labored, panicked breathing matched your flickering, terrified eyes. “Spindle.”

And you lay fast asleep in Zoro’s arms a moment later, peace written in your features. Your chest rose and fell gently. Zoro gazed down at the sleeping beauty, uttering your name over and over, practically paralyzed… Until he noticed the tiny bit of blood dripping from your fingertip, and he looked into the ajar room. A spinning wheel stood right in his line of sight, the wheel creaking as it spun slowly.

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

You had never told any of your friends about the curse, too embarrassed to do so. Was that a lapse in judgment? Perhaps, but you were too asleep to know.

Now Chopper stood at your side, holding his stethoscope over your heart. He set the scope around his neck a moment later, putting his hooves together nervously. Chopper felt the whole crew staring at his back like a brand. “I think—Well, I think she’s sleeping.”

Luffy had been deathly silent through the whole ordeal, not taking his eyes off you since Zoro carried you back to the ship in a hurry. “Then let’s wake her up.”

Sanji slapped a hand over his mouth before Luffy could start yelling, shoving out a sigh. “We tried that, didn’t we? Marimo shook her for five minutes before we could pry him off her.”

Everyone waited for when the swordsman would quip back his own insult, but the usual pattern was thrown off by a strange silence. Even Sanji looked around, confused to find Zoro nowhere in sight.

Sanji blinked a few times before he placed his hands on his hips. “Now where the fuck is he?”

From the corner, seated in a chair, one leg crossed over the other, Robin spoke up for the first time all evening. Her thoughtful eyes stared into the space ahead of her. “I saw him leave a moment ago. Said he had to get something.”

Not even a second later did Zoro barge down into the galley. In one hand he held a spinning wheel of all things. In the other, he held a woman’s arm in a vice.

Nami jumped to her feet, aghast. “Zoro, what—?”

He nearly threw the woman before them all, his brows drawn into an expression of ruthlessness. “Well? What did you do to her?!”

With her eyes wide and breaths short, the woman violently shook her head. “I don’t know what you mean!”

Sanji stepped forth intending to sock Zoro in the face for scaring the woman, when Zoro turned on him and spat, “This woman’s the reason she’s—she’s sick!”

That was all it took for Sanji, somehow still poised, to face the terrified woman now encircled by a crowd of frowning pirates. Sanji grabbed the woman’s arm, not as harshly as Zoro had, but just as firmly. “What did you do to her?”

“Nothing,” she sputtered, gazing over at where you laid limply on the table. “I… I remember her. She wanted purple fabric.”

Zoro nearly had the mind to throttle the woman. “You led her into the back room and minutes later she stumbles out and—and sleeps!” He slammed the spinning wheel on the ground, startling everyone around. “She said spindle. What’s this? Some sort of… torture device?”

The woman did nothing but blink at him. “It’s a spinning wheel.”

“What’s it do?”

“It spins.” Suddenly the woman had the nerve of a warrior, righting herself to face Zoro’s glare. “I don’t know what you think I did, but I didn’t. All I know is I led her to the fabric and…”

All her words fell short as she stuttered to find them, her brows screwing together. “And I don’t remember. I—I don’t remember what happened.”

Sanji seized her shoulders and leveled her with a look. “I need you to remember, madam. It means that girl’s life or death.”

The woman stood frozen, stunned as she stared into Sanji’s eyes, her cheeks turning a concerning shade of pink. Nami rolled her eyes and promptly shoved him out of the way, snapping in the woman’s face.

“What do you mean you don’t remember?” Nami asked sharply.

“I mean I don’t remember.” Their captive grew increasingly frustrated, and maybe a bit nervous as well. “I walk that bitch into the back, I black out, and I wake up to this guy dragging me out of my home!”

Just as Zoro gasped (“Bitch, huh?”), Robin stood and slowly made her way toward the spinning wheel, running her hand over the wood and grazing a finger over the sharp needle. Inspecting the spindle close, she found a bit of dried blood there. She hummed, keeping everyone on edge, and went toward your sleeping form, grabbing your hands and turning them over. “Ah-ha…”

Zoro stepped forward, anxious. “What?”

“I think she poked herself on the spindle.” Robin made it sound so simple.

Nami tapped her finger to her nose as she pondered. “But why would that make her… sick?”

“Poison?” Chopper offered at the same time Robin answered, “Magic.”

“We don’t have time for speculation,” Sanji gritted as he fished around his pockets for his lighter, cigarette between his teeth. “Can we test for what poison it could be?”

As Chopper started to ramble about some tests he could run, Zoro stared daggers at the spinning wheel. Now, he wasn’t superstitious, but perhaps he was a little stitious, because the longer he stared at the wheel the more he remembered about what transpired in that shop.

“Why would it be magic?” Zoro asked suddenly, silencing the room.

All eyes found Robin, who was now sitting on your bedside holding your hand. “She’s a princess, right? The princesses in the stories I’ve read dealt with a lot of bad magic.”

Nami shook her head. “This isn’t a story, Robin.”

The debate went on like that, really going nowhere at all, the cashier woman tentatively slinking away during the rabble and inevitably going forgotten. Luffy ignored them all, approaching you and lifting your hand to inspect as if he’d find some kind of sign in your pierced fingertip.

And just maybe, he did find something. “Hey, Nami?”

She ran a hand over her face as Sanji and Zoro took jab after jab at one another, the stress of your condition getting to the both of them. “Yeah, Luffy?”

He followed a very excited thought bunny here and there, after princesses and stories until it hopped to a stop in front of a certain royal friend of theirs. You appeared next, smiling like he wished you would now. “Vivi? Yeah, I know her. We go way back.”

“Call Vivi,” he ordered, closing the discussion as he too sat at your side and started to poke at your sides, as if tickling you would be enough to break this spell.

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

Often, your dreams gave way to the most horrible nightmares, and always, you would find refuge in the realm of day. Until now. No matter where you ran a firm sheet of black blocked you in. Air as frigid as the Arctic enveloped you. No friend in sight, no solace from the cold.

Finally falling still, you blinked, and you stood in the middle of your tower, back in your kingdom. The high-reaching walls created that familiar dome painted with the long-forgotten stories of your people. The marble floors chilled your bare feet. Your bed leered at you from the far wall, whispers inviting you back into its clutches that would send you spiraling further into this forever sleep.

Panic surged up your chest till you gasped for air, losing your grip quicker than you could keep up with. Laughter taunted you from every corner till you started to scream and shout and call out for anyone to help you. But the door held fast against your pulling and thick briar thorns wrapped all around the balcony.

Still, you clawed at the spiraling thorns, prying to see through, blistering your palms on their heated stalks. Your whimpers were followed by a loud, echoed roar, a harsh gust of wind cast down from the wings of a soaring lizard you’d only ever dreamed of.

You whirled around to catch a better view of the creature’s mass, clutching at your heart as those gargantuan claws settled down on the tower of your bedroom. Two nostrils blew smoke that encroached the balcony and the depths of your room. The dragon’s eyes held no mercy as she gazed down with malice.

This curse played a cruel joke, trapping you within the bars of your own mind, turning your fantasies against you. Your every turn showed you more wonders turned horrors the longer you searched for them; the clouds formed words you wouldn’t dare to repeat, the grass down below burned in confusing patterns, and the voices of those you held dear echoed from somewhere nearby.

Your fretful mother. Your paranoid father. The gossiping handmaidens. The superstitious priest. All lamented your fate, screaming how they knew it was a matter of time before the curse finally found you, tearing into you for ever even dreaming of leaving. You really should have stayed. This wouldn’t have happened if you’d piped down and stayed.

Then it was Luffy, Nami, and Usopp. “Why did you ever ask her to join us?” “Not sure. I thought she was something she wasn’t.” “She’s just a liar.” “A dead weight.” “A curse.”

Robin’s voice pierced her eardrums as your knees hit the ground. Why had she ever given you the time of day? Some sheltered little princess without enough common sense to know a spinning wheel when she saw one. And Chopper, his sweet voice turned sour. How pathetic. Beaten by a piece of wood.

The worst of it all was when his voice broke through all the rest despite how she tried to ignore that rumbling tone she once learned to crave. Zoro’s words were direct and clear. She’s finally gone. God, I was this close to just silencing her stupid mouth myself.

To think he would ever actually love her? How foolish of you.

The walls of your dreams closed in swiftly, caging you in and suffocating your hopes till you were left a husk, floating amidst the torment.

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

Vivi had been silent for so long Luffy wondered if she’s gotten distracted and walked off. Nami shuffled closer to the snail transponder. “Vivi?”

“Sorry,” her voice reappeared, a slight crack to it. “I just… you said she pricked a spindle?” Nami hummed in agreement, and Vivi expelled a long sigh. “She’s been asleep since? You can’t wake her?”

“That’s what we said,” Zoro snapped, shutting up at Nami’s sharp glare.

“It’s just… I mean, I’ve only heard stories. She only talked about it once, in a letter she wrote to me. That’s the only way we could talk since her parents locked her away—”

“Stories about what, Vivi?” Nami guided the tense princess back as Zoro started to pace back and forth, his hands raking at his hair.

She was silent for two whole seconds, and then, “The curse.”

The whole room fell still.

“They say a dark Wise Woman cursed her when she was baby, so that one day, she would prick her finger on a spinning wheel’s spindle… and die.” She rushed to amend herself, “But then another Wise Woman fixed it. She won’t die, but fall asleep… until someone shows her an act of true, unconditional love.”

For a long while the whole room is held captive by silence, eyes flickering to where you snoozed nearby. Zoro couldn’t look away. The way you looked so peaceful pained him in a way, knowing you were trapped in a place he couldn’t save you from. At least the tiny grin on your face gave him confidence your everlasting dreams were nice.

“How do we do that?” he heard himself asking.

“I—I don’t know. I thought it was a story to justify her isolation—”

“Well, obviously not.”

“Zoro,” Nami’s words cut sharply. “Take a walk.”

“But—”

“Walk.”

He stood with as much noise as he could, knocking his chair back and stomping out of the room. Zoro stopped just at the door to cast a look at you, highly aware of the eyes of everyone on him. His hand closed around the doorframe, his heart tightening, and he left without another word.

Letting the others see how much he cared for you would just make everything infinitely worse. Zoro couldn’t handle that level of teasing on top of your sickness.

Zoro stepped out onto the deck, now basked in moonlight, and rushed to lean against the railing. His skin felt feverish in contrast to the cold dread coursing through his veins. Why hadn’t you said anything? Sure, he probably wouldn’t have believed you, but maybe… maybe he wouldn’t have let you leave his side so quickly.

And now this? This formidable task would supposedly save you. An act of true love? What could that even mean?

With his eyes on the sky, Zoro let out a shaken sigh. He would tear every one of those stars down if it meant you would be okay. Would that be enough for this curse? Or would he have to take down the moon as well and lay it at your feet?

No… no, certainly nothing he could do would ever be strong enough to save you. For so long he’d put off your advances, too stubborn to face the emotions building up in his heart… Zoro doubted he held the strength to perform such an act, and that notion threatened to crush him.

He too had read the stories Robin spoke of; stories of princes who swooped in and saved the princess with a kiss. You needed one of them—those princes—and Zoro was far from royalty.

If anything, he was the knight in rusted armor who failed.

But, an idea crept out of the depths of his mind, crawling to the surface till his heart pumped at the possibility. He was no prince, no knight, and no cursebreaker—but Zoro was a hunter.

He burst back into the galley with a crazed look in his eyes. “Vivi?”

Her voice crackled out from the startled snail. “Yes?”

“Where do we find this Wise Woman?”

Not even a day later, the crew set out on the sea once more, a new destination in mind: the secluded island of the so-called wise and elusive faeries.

Zoro stood at your bedside, too afraid to reach out and take your hand, making a solemn oath.

“I will find a way to save you if it is the last thing I do.”

If only the swordsman would have known—the strongest of magic lies in promises. If only Zoro had the eye to see the tendrils of magic curling around your sleeping body, tightening around you as the curse shivered away from his declaration. Spirits hissed from the corners fo the room and shied away from the mere passion behind his eyes. Somewhere distant a sorceress coiled her fists around nothing as her hold on the slumbering princess slipped through, little by little. Could he have fathomed it, he would have known he held more honor than the mightiest of princes.

But he couldn’t fathom it, so he failed to notice the magic encircling his heart, seeking out any cracks in his steel-strong pride. There were none to find. The magic had nowhere to go, and until the hunter’s pride wore down, nothing would change.

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

Your godmother turned out to be a real bitch, by Zoro’s standards. First off, she was waiting for them on the shore, like a creep. In her witchy get-up, Zoro could have mistaken her for the one he meant to run through with his sword.

“What’re you supposed to be,” he sneered as she made her way up the gangway, practically making herself on home on the deck.

She met his glare equally. “I’m your only hope, dear. Now wipe that look off your face. You’ll get stuck like that.”

Rosalie took control of the situation in her stride, heading down to the galley and acting as if she owned the place. Only Nami seemed to be put off by this, standing at Zoro’s side with her arms folded as the rest of the crew gathered around the Wise Woman.

“She was always too stubborn for her own good,” said Rosalie fondly, a tiny grin on her lips. “Luckily for you, Carabose never strays far from the island. It’s the source of our power, and the poor, scaly, greedy thing would just die if she lost her magic.”

The radiant faerie pulled her dark curls forth, scrunching up her angular nose as she thought of the witch to blame for her dear princess’s condition. She sucked in a breath and released it harshly, suddenly appearing much older than before. “I must thank you. My princess deserves so much more, and you managed to give it to her, if only for a little while.”

“You talk as if she’s dead,” Nami grumbled. The look Rosalie gave her then was far less than comforting.

“Well, unless you have a source for true love nearby, she’s as good as it.” Zoro’s hand closed around the hilt of his sword, his eyes slamming shut as that grief washed over him again. Rosalie’s eyes flickered to him, an unnoticeable shine in her eye and a tilt in her lips.

(Wise Women see much more than the normal eye, and just now Rosalie spotted the remarkable fuchsia tendrils of a very special kind of magic, so rare many thought it mere myth… yet it was swirling around the swordsman’s heart).

She turned to face the crew in their entirety, her expression grave. “Only the caster may raise a curse unless it is broken according to certain parameters. I may be able to deal with Carabose through negotiation. We… have a history.” Rosalie ruffled slightly. “She might have mercy and relinquish the curse herself.”

Zoro scoffed, drawing the faerie’s attention. “And if she doesn’t?”

Rosalie’s eyes flashed. “Then I’ll cut her down and hope that is enough.”

Sanji shook his head, blinking like he was forcing himself to deny Rosalie’s beauty. “And what will we do?”

“You’ll be with me. If Carabose dies and she does not wake… one of you will have to make a sacrifice.” Rosalie assessed them all with cool eyes, reveling in their discomfort, till she cracked a smile and tossed her head back. “I jest, I jest! However, we will need to come up with a display of true love after the deed is done and our princess has not woken.”

Zoro continued to bristle at the faerie’s coolness, grinding his teeth as she floated about the room, mumbling to herself. He dropped his swords on the table with a clang, startling Rosalie. “I can kill the witch myself. Give me ten minutes, and it’ll be done.”

“I know you are desperate to save your friend, Swordsman,” Rosalie simpered. “But you’ll be staying here.”

His blood was boiling at this point. The plan at hand was hardly what he’d had in mind. Zoro shook his head firmly and grasped his composure tightly. “I need to do something.”

“And you will! You’ll be guarding our princess.” Rosalie dared to set a hand on Zoro’s shoulder, making him go all stiff till he caught her steely gaze. “Carabose controls many of the spirits of the island. I wouldn’t put it past her to send one of them to whisk the princess away. You perhaps have the most important job of all.”

Yeah, right. Zoro locked eyes with Nami over the faerie’s shoulder, sharing a silent agreement as he shrugged the woman off. “Nami can stay behind—”

“No.” Rosalie’s grip tightened around his shoulder as the temperature dropped instantly. “You will stay, and Nami will come along.” Her smile felt sinister. “I am Rosalie of the Wise Women, and you are just a man with a sword. I have conquered kingdoms in the name of her parents. What have you done?”

“I’ll kill the witch,” he said weakly. “And I’ll save her.”

“Kill the witch,” she mocked him. “You mean to tell me that’s an act of true love, swordsman?” Rosalie leaned in close, her voice as soft as wind. “How can you say you love her when you let her go, Roronoa Zoro. Now stay put and don’t make the same mistakes twice.”

She swept away as swiftly as she’d closed in, leaving Zoro breathless and unsteady. Rosalie clapped her hands together and faced Luffy with a grin. “Now, Captain. You understand the plan?”

Luffy looked all around, making eye contact with each of his crewmates, till he found Zoro, who leaned against the wall having some sort of crisis. Words rose up to his tongue, ready to lash out and tear the faerie to bits when he saw it. The tendrils were growing brighter. Slowly, he turned to Rosalie, who met his gaze unblinkingly. “Yeah, I got it.”

Usopp shifted uncomfortably. “Uh, Luffy, I don’t think—”

“I trust her,” he declared, and that was that. Usopp nodded, followed by the reluctant rest. Zoro’s eyes flashed up to meet his captains, unsure about how confident Luffy was, but not willing to ever doubt his friend.

“Splendid,” Rosalie simpered. “I’ve no doubt Carabose is waiting for us, so we’d do best to keep up our guards.”

As she rounded everyone up and led them out of the galley and off the ship, Nami brought Zoro aside, her brows furrowed. “I don’t like this,” she murmured. “But I trust Luffy.” Zoro grunted as if to agree, his eyes unfocused. Nami gave his shoulder a pat as she passed him. “Just stay with her. Who knows, maybe she’ll know you’re there.”

And Zoro found himself all alone, the ship a deathly quiet he had never witnessed before. He could hear his every breath and feel the rock of the ship. A creak came from somewhere nearby, pinching at a sensitive part of his mind. Zoro took a few weightless, shallow steps down the hall, his hand running against the wall, until he came face to face with the door of your bedroom.

Too long he stared at the door before he shoved at it, swinging it open wide. Zoro surged inside with so much gusto his muscle memory urged him to reach for his swords, but he’d left them in the galley. Instead, his hand grasped at air whilst he vacantly stared about the room.

You lay soundlessly atop your bed, hands crossed over your chest like a corpse. Zoro instantly moved to adjust your arms, laying them instead at your sides. There, that was better.

His brows screwed together; where a smile had earlier been gracing your lips, a firm frown now replaced it. Your face contorted, your mind plagued by an enemy Zoro couldn’t fight. Ensuring he didn’t make a sound, Zoro took a knee and drew close to your face, folding his arms on the edge of your bed and resting his head there.

Sweat beaded along your forehead, distress clear on your face. Without thinking Zoro reached to wipe it away with the back of his hand, initiating a kind of intimate contact only you had ever thrust upon him. He shocked himself, frozen with his hand on your cheek before he cleared his throat and returned to his original position.

Hours he stayed like that, eyes dutifully watching over your face, pulse spiking at every sign of distress caught in your features. Your brows pinched together, lips parting as a strangled sigh left you.

Perhaps… Zoro threw caution to the wind and reached for your hand. You didn’t budge, but—and maybe he was seeing things—it looked like your face softened up a little bit. So he stayed just like that, rubbing circles into the back of your hand.

He lifted his gaze to the window, where the sun was beginning to set once again. “Wonder if the others found that witch yet…” They could be fighting for their lives, if Rosalie’s dumb plan fell through. He should be out there. Zoro’s eyes flickered all around the blue sky, worry eating at him, till he finally rose to his feet and dropped your hand.

“I’ll be back—” Your instant whine had Zoro practically jumping out of his skin and descending back to your side all at once. “I mean, they can probably handle it. I’m still here.”

Your face returned to a state of calm as if you’d never moved at all. He scoffed out a laugh, murmuring fondly, “You little shit.” Again, little shifts in your expression hinted at a nightmare. “What’s goin’ on in there, huh?”

(Your dreams had taken a drastic turn. Dragon fire shot past your head, close enough to singe your eyelashes. The broom you’d taken up as a weapon splintered against the scaly back of your guard. The serpent burned away at the roof of your room, circling like a vulture, taunting echoes slipping off her forked tongue. As your eyes continued to flutter, sleep beckoning like a long-lost friend, you didn’t dare to succumb to the call. Should you sleep, you felt certain you would never, ever wake up.

Yet, you were so tired. It couldn’t hurt… if you rested your eyes… if only to escape the taunting of his voice. He’s glad you’re good as dead. He never had to deal with your pining ever again.

Every echo of doubt had you believing that just maybe, it might be true, sending you deeper into this eternal insanity).

“Zoro.”

The swordsman didn’t breathe. He couldn’t. “I’m here.” If his words had any effect on the state of you, it didn’t show. You only rustled sharply, eyes flickering all around behind your eyelids… until you fell deadly still. “Hey now. Don’t slip away just yet.”

Again, he took up your hand, willing you to keep giving him signs that you weren’t too deep into slumber. “An act of true love. Sanji could probably pull one of those out of his ass.” That thought sent him on a tangent, pictures of your effervescent smile flashing across his mind.

Days ago, he’d been so secure on never revealing his feelings to you. The pair of you would have lived all your lives revolving around one another until you inevitably gave up, and it would be for the best. Right then and there, though, Zoro felt certain if he never looked into your eyes again he would never forgive himself for every time he turned you away.

“I’ve always wondered,” he whispered. “Why you don’t just go after the lovecook. It’d be a hell of a lot easier than dealing with me.”

Zoro made himself comfortable, leaning his head on the bed. “If… when you wake up, let’s go do something, like you wanted. You like painting, right? We’ll go painting. I’ll probably offend the very act of art, but maybe you’ll laugh at me, and it’ll be okay. I’ll throw paint in your hair and you’ll punch me, and it’ll be a real good time.”

Nothing. Your chest rose and fell at a concerningly slow pace. “When we get you back… I’ll apologize. For being an idiot.” Had your lips always been so dry? “But you have to wake up to hear it.”

Your condition remained unchanged… save for the stark silence coming from your nose, and the eerie stillness of your chest. Zoro’s gut churned. You were only meant to sleep, so why weren’t you breathing?

(The sleeping beauty dared to lie down, the tower burning all around her, at ease among the encroaching flames).

His hand felt at you heart, his own stuttering at how faint yours was beating. You looked so blank. Not a flaw in your void expression. Zoro, on the verge of pleading to gods he didn’t believe in, again reached for a sword that wasn’t there as a bone-chilling chuckle echoed from every corner.

“You can’t save her~” sang a ghostly voice, right into his ear.

Zoro slammed his ear down on his shoulder to rid himself of the shiver running down his spine. Whipping around, he ground his jaw enough to hear the chip in his teeth. “Watch me, witch.”

Her laughter mocked him. “How? You’re no prince. No knight. What’re you going to do, warrior? Kiss her and hope your honor is enough?” Carabose appeared in a misty shadow behind him, surging through his body like a specter, sending him keeling to the floor. “The princess’ soul has long belonged to me. True love doesn’t exist. Rosalie should’ve known that.”

“You’re wrong!” Zoro bellowed, something deep in his heart constricting, building up a fire in his bones.

“Oh,” the witch hummed darkly. “I’m sure. This isn’t a fairytale, boy. Kisses don’t wake princesses… and simple swordsmen don’t save them.”

The witch’s cackle faded even as he slashed at the air with his arm, wild eyes searching till they landed back on you, unnervingly calm. If Carabose’s intention was to have her spirits discourage Zoro, she fairly succeeded; but she also succeeded in something else—giving him something to prove.

His shoulders sunk as he just stared, taking in the hopeless sight before him. It was much too late to confess to his sleeping beauty. Even if they did find a way to wake her, who was to say she would still want him? What if some hero swoops in and takes her away?

He would be deserving of that fate, Zoro thinks, his foolishness crashing down on him even as he falls to his knees at your side once more.

Make a note that Roronoa Zoro doesn’t believe in magic. It’s all make-believe to help children see the good in the world. He knew that full and well, deep in his heart. But something he knew with far greater certainty is that he would do anything to have the chance to love you as you loved him.

Magic wasn’t real. But what if? Zoro felt silly for daring to think it, but even then his hand reached to cup your cheek. Wasn’t there truth to every story? Kissing princesses didn’t make the world all right. Fairytales don’t come true.

But the sun was setting on another day with you held down by this curse, and Zoro felt pathetic and weak and he had no other plan at hand.

“I’m an idiot,” he confessed the obvious. “I never choose what’s easy except when it comes to you. Which made it difficult, which defeated the purpose and—Never mind.” Peaceful despite the circumstances, you never stirred an inch. “Please wake up. Please… Or I’ll look really, really stupid.”

One hand on your cheek, the other bracing himself against the bed, Zoro pressed the most delicate of kisses atop your cold lips, a horrifying shiver shooting through him at how it felt like kissing a corpse. Lingering, he drew back, breath staggered at how nothing happened. You didn’t shoot awake. Not a muscle in your body twitched. Your eyes didn’t move.

“Please,” he mumbled over your lips, his forehead colliding with yours in a desperate plea. “Wake up. Wake up so I can tell you I love you.”

Unseen magic exploded around the room, wrapping around the swordsman and the princess as pride and honor were laid down at the feet of a curse that died with the far-off scream of a thwarted witch.

(The sleeping princess blinked awake, squinting from the blinding light filtering in through the open ceiling. The dragon faded to mist and the fires blew out with a hush. Words the princess had only ever dreamed of hearing echoed down to her ears, and everything went white).

You awoke from the most horrible sleep, your bones and body aching as something like a cold fever washed over you. A shallow breath fizzled out of you right before your lungs brought in as much air as they could take. Eyes flinging open, your surroundings came into focus in an instant, and you found a figure looming over you with the funniest expression.

Zoro’s face was white as a sheet, eyes wide and brows vaulted, his lips parted. He looked as if he’d seen a ghost, and a laugh left you before you could stop it. You smiled with no abandon as Zoro’s hand traced your jaw. “What’s this about?”

And it all came rushing back like a punch to your gut as Zoro’s eyes bore into you. Your lips fell into a shocked gape. “You kissed me?”

“I… uhm…”

You slowly sat upright, hands in your lap, head tilted as you admired the man before you in a light like never before. “You love me?”

His eyes pinched shut, and you feared he regretted his confession. Perhaps it was a heat-of-the-moment thing. Maybe he didn’t mean it and you’re stupid for ever thinking he might—

“I do.” He looked as breathless as you felt. “I do love you.”

An eternity could have passed and you wouldn’t have known nor cared, all too caught up in etching his face into your memory. Hesitant, you rose to your knees, bed covers shoved aside, and your hands went to cup his face tenderly. “Tell me again.”

Warmth flooded his cheeks as your thumbs ran over his cheekbones, drawing his eyes back to yours every time they dared to flicker away. He melted into you, one hand falling to your waist and the other cupping behind your thigh. “I love you.”

Another smile burst across your face. “I love you too.” You leaned in close, nudging your nose at his cheek. “I’m gonna kiss you.”

Zoro cracked a grin, his eyes fluttering. “Okay.”

“And kiss you.”

“Fine by me.”

“I’ll never sleep again. I’m only going to kiss you until they pry me off you, my handsome, lovely, cursebreaker swordsman—Mmph!”

His lips cut you off, surging forth to catch you unguarded. Zoro’s arms pulled you in quickly as you pushed in just as firmly, hands raking through his hair. Years you waited and years you longed. Countless nights you laid awake intending to give up come morning, only to fall back into his eyes.

All for this. The day your soul knew would come even when your heart was doubting.

“I love you,” you broke away to say, simply because you could.

And no witch, no curse, no destiny would ever keep you from telling him.

Giggling at nothing at all, you leaned into him and wrapped him up in your arms, head falling to his shoulder. Your eyes drifted behind him, your whole body freezing at the sight in the corner. “What the fuck is that doing here?”

Zoro nearly broke his neck whipping it around only to choke on a laugh. The spinning wheel sat humbly to the side, purple string still running through it. “Probably was a bad idea to keep it in here.”

“You think!” You lightly flicked his nose and got a little grunt out of him. “Let’s burn it.”

A bonfire awaited the crew as they returned, their egos bruised and spirits low despite their defeat of the Wise Woman Carabose. Every last one of them nearly screamed when they saw you stoking the pillar of fire with the brightest smile on your face, Zoro’s arm round your shoulder.

You teetered this way and that, tossed around as they hugged the life out of you. Laughter came easy and the night drew long, stories of their victory recounted and certain questions about your recovery proposed.

“You needed an act of true love,” Chopper wondered, never straying far from your side as he clung to your arm. “So what happened?”

You weren’t at all subtle in your direct look at Zoro, who coughed and averted his eyes to the suddenly very interesting ground. “Someone got off their high horse and—”

“All right!” Zoro laughed awkwardly. “Cook, where’d you put the extra sake?”

Nami silently awed as she dragged you and Robin aside, begging to know exactly what happened. Somewhere through the night, Usopp looked around, lowering his glass from his lips. “What happened to Rosalie?”

You tripped over nothing at that name. “What? My godmother?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “She helped us find Cara-bitch, or whatever… When did she disappear?”

Everyone took a moment to think, blinking quickly as a single answer was formed: they didn’t know.

“That sounds like her. I just wish I could’ve said hello,” you said.

Zoro hovered at your side, his hand ghosting over yours. “She was weird anyway.”

“Hey!”

The fire fizzled out somewhere close to dawn, though the celebration seemed far from over. Your eyes felt heavy and your body too, but every time you fell too much into drowsiness, cold terror tore through you. You weren’t joking when you declared you’d never sleep again; the prospect petrified you.

“C’mon,” Zoro muttered when your head fell to his shoulder and shot back up for the sixth time. “You need to rest.”

“I’ve slept enough—”

“That’s not what I said.” Zoro stood and offered you a hand, a gentle smile warming you from the inside out. You shoved your hand into his and started the trek below deck, departure unnoticed.

As you passed your bedroom, you stopped and stared at your bed just three seconds before you bee-lined to Zoro’s door, leading him along behind you. Dazedly, you waltzed around each other, preparing for sleep even as your heart pounded in your head.

“What if I don’t wake up?” you wondered aloud as Zoro sunk into bed.

His eyes found yours and you swore you fell even deeper. “You will.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I love you.”

That fact was one of the only real things either of you knew, and for now, it was enough.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @100520s

#zoro #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro #zoro x reader #zoro roronoa x reader #opla zoro x reader #opla!zoro x reader #x reader #reader insert #zoro fluff

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angelsworks · 2 years ago

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Yandere!Cullen Brothers x Human! reader

Type: Headcannon

Requested: No

Summary: The Cullen brothers being your yanderes

Warnings: Dark, yandere themes, kidnap, possessiveness, etc

In the vampire world there are blood singers - Humans that had especially alluring blood, that called to specific vampires.

In the vampire world there were also soulmates. A being destined to be yours forever. In most cases fate matched vampires to other vampires. Yet there were always exceptions to the rule.

You were that exception.

The Cullens were a close knit group.

The leader Carlisle had found and turned his soulmate years ago. Now he lived in bliss with his wife and soulmate Esme.

Alice had come searching for Rosalie when she was first turned. Having visions of a golden haired Angel. It lead her to find Carlisle and the rest of his ever growing clan. She too found her mate.

Edward, the first turned off the coven, hadn’t found his in his century of eternal life.

Later additions to the coven included Emmet and Jasper. Both mateless too.

While it wasn’t ideal to watch half of the coven happily mated, they dealt with it. If anything it made the three grow closer as brothers.

Yet when you come along they’re all shocked.

It’s practically unheard of for a vampire to have a human mate.

More than that for you to be mates to three of them.

At first they don’t behave very brotherly towards each other.

At school they act civil, but at home tensions run high.

The three of them are desperate for your attention. But they aren’t alone.

Being the new student everyone wants to talk to you. Leading you to be occupied a lot of then time.

They don’t want to crowd you or scare you. So they try to keep their distance.

While they keep their distance at school and in public, they all secretly stalk watch you from afar.

Edward was probably the first to start this. Visiting you while you slept, going through your bedroom. Examining all your trinkets and decorations.

Occasionally, he’ll take things from your room. Maybe it’s a piece of clothing, jewellery, a well loved book. He wants to feel close to you, to try and understand you.

Jasper shares a couple of his classes with you. He uses the class to watch you, not just stare but intently study. He studies how you talk, how you take notes, your posture, how you do your hair. He becomes an expert.

His gift is how he feels close to you. He uses it to feel your emotions. It gives him a deeper insight into what you truly like and dislike and how you feel on the inside.

While Emmet doesn’t have a gift, he doesn’t let it stop him. His brothers may be keeping their distance but he tends to break these rules.

Maybe one day you drop your books. He helps you pick them up then offers to carry them to class for you.

You both realise you share your next class, leading you to sit next to him. From here you get talking more. You grow close to Emmet, both as a friend and romantically.

To say Edward and Jasper are jealous is a grand understatement. While they like keeping their distance they decide it’s time to introduce themselves properly.

Edward makes his introduction in a class you share. Having practiced the previous night to not mess up, it goes well.

Jasper makes his introduction in the Libary. Striking up a conversation about the work you’re doing or the book you’re reading.

After they’ve all introduced themselves and are talking to you separately, Jasper notes to the other two that you’re feeling overwhelmed.

It’s here they decide they need to work together more. In the end you’ll be with the three of them anyway. They’ve had enough arguments and fights about it.

At first Edward was against turning you. Wanting to save your soul from eternal damnation.

Yet as time with you passes by, he realises he doesn’t want to lose you.

When they work together they decide to ask Alice and Rosalie to befriend you. Thinking that if you had different people to talk to that weren’t them, you wouldn’t be so overwhelmed.

While they are extremely possessive of you, having you become friends with Alice and Rosalie isn’t a problem. They trust them as sisters and know they have no romantic interest in you.

The friendship leads to you being invited over to the Cullen residence frequently. During your time there it makes it easier for them to interact with you and watch you.

Sometimes you don’t even notice their longing glances.

At some point they all become frustrated. They want more from you but are restricted. By school, by your friends, by your family.

So they start to plan. With the help from Alice and Rosalie over the course of your final year at school, they convince you to apply to a university in Alaska. One that they themselves will be attending.

After you graduate they’ll make their move.

While everyone just assumes you’ve gone of to university, they know different.

They take you deep into the mountains, away from everyone else. Just the three of them for you.

In a little wooden house you’ll live. Watched 24/7 by the three of them. They tell you about you being their soulmate and them being vampires. At some point they have to show you because you don’t believe them.

You’re undoubtedly scared at first. But being isolated, you develop Stockholm syndrome quickly.

When they turn you (which you don’t have much choice in) you’ll be dependent on them.

Emmet’s strength comes in handy if you think you can get the upper hand and escape.

Jasper uses his powers to influence how you feel about them.

Edward uses his powers to monitor your thoughts. Any that could be a problem are shared with the others quickly.

Life with the three of them means you have no privacy.

It means you’re theirs completely.

#dark #yandere twilight #yandere Jasper hale #yandere emmet Cullen #yandere Edward Cullen #yandere Jasper Cullen #twilight #twilight yandere #angelsworks post #dark twilight #poly twilight

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k-evans-reads · 2 months ago

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The Spare

We do NOT give permission for our works to be reuploaded, translated, or reposted on any other site. Our work is our own.

Summary: When Princess Rosie unexpectedly is thrust into a political tour of the country, a working-class Air Force Captain is assigned to be her pilot. Although the princess is unhappy about the decision, she realizes she’s stepping into unknown territory when the unexpected happens

Chapter 1 l Main Masterlist | The Spare Masterlist

By @k-evans-writes and @ourfinest-hour

Word Count: 7,725

Chapter 2

Four Years Earlier

The sound of loud voices booming and laughter still followed Chris as he shook his head to himself, rolling his eyes as he walked further into the hangar, headed toward his fighter jet. He didn’t understand how one visit from a member of the royal family could cause such an uproar on the air force base, especially when the crowned prince was in their unit and most had gone through university with James as well. Sure he had seen the way other people treated James, knowing that one day he would be their king, but the further they had gotten knit together as a unit, the less it had mattered to all the guys. Chris figured because of that it wouldn’t be as shocking when another member of the royal family made an appearance on base, but the chaos that seemed to ensue the minute the princess had stepped out of the shiny black car was something that Chris just couldn’t seem to understand.

Well… that wasn’t completely true.

Having been born and raised in Ellington, Chris had been well aware of the royal family. He was constantly reading, hearing and seeing so much about them, although he had been too busy as a teenager working to help support himself and his mother to pay much attention. It wasn’t until he received a scholarship for university that he had met James, the future king of Ellington. He saw the way everyone treated him, varying between fawning over his every moment to completely avoiding him so they didn’t run the risk of saying or doing the wrong thing.

Maybe it was because of their first meeting when he laughed at James for missing the easiest layup on the basketball court, but from the moment Chris met him, the two had just connected. To Chris, he was just James, one of his best friends. And to James, Chris was what felt like his first real friend. The only guy who didn’t care who he was or what his position was but was simply just his friend.

They were constantly together throughout university and somehow ended up in the same unit once joining the royal Air Force afterward, something Chris knew was probably some special strings that were pulled but he didn’t care. He had come to see over the years that even though being a royal might have seemed glamorous, he’d seen the reality of how isolating and burdensome it was, and if he could be there for James, he was happy to be that.

With Chris being virtually the only person that James trusted implicitly, he heard a much more honest and unguarded version of James’ life as opposed to the highlight reel that was on the cover of newspapers. He knew of all the hard things like the strained relationship James had with his father, the virtually non-existent one he had with his mother, how insane his boarding school experience and schooling was, the immense pressure he had growing up, how he felt disconnected from his youngest sister Annie with her being so much younger and him already gone away to school. But he also knew that the saving grace of his growing up years and even now, was his sister Rosie.

By this point Chris had reached his cubby in the base, taking his time as he changed into his olive green flight suit and boots, preparing to go on a test flight but found himself smiling as he thought about the way James had talked about Rosie over the years. Chris couldn’t even count the amount of times their classmates or now even guys in their unit made comments to James about getting them an introduction to Princess Rosalie. She was arguably the most popular person in the country amongst most people, bringing a relatability and normalcy to the royal family who often felt out of touch with most of reality.

It was fairly often that one of her comical faces revealing everything she was thinking was photographed and put on the front page of the paper, or reports of her sparkling personality was talked about in contrast to the stoic and demure ways of most nobility. She felt more attainable, more in-touch with what was going on in the country and that made everyone look forward to seeing her more in the press in the coming years now that James would be serving in the Air Force.

It hadn’t gone unnoticed to Chris that James had always clammed up anytime someone mentioned his sister and that it was a long time before he even talked to Chris about her. James was fiercely protective of his sister and loved her so deeply. They were each other’s person, the only ones they could really trust and rely on, but once James started telling Chris more about her, he understood why. He had never even met her and Chris could feel a softness in his heart toward her just from hearing about her for so many years now. It was no wonder to him why James loved her so much, but when he saw her for the first time in person today, stepping out of that car, it also was no wonder to him why she caused such an uproar amongst the Air Force unit because as beautiful as those pictures of her were on the newspaper, they didn’t hold a candle to her in person.

As much as he would have liked to meet the girl he’d been hearing about for years, his dedication to his duty and annoyance at the way his unit turned into a bunch of ogling school boys at the sight of the princess made him need to get away. Chris had worked his ass off to get through university on his scholarship and was committed in every sense of the word to the Air Force, wanting to serve his country well and he wasn’t going to let himself be distracted by the loud chaos that was ensuing outside the hangar, instead focusing on making his way over to his jet to prep for his test run.

He hadn’t quite made it when the sound of a door opening echoed in the virtually empty hangar and a voice he’d only heard in a more restrained and proper tone on the television before echoed as she laughed, “It looks like coming to visit you is more dangerous than I thought.”

“I think you’re right, that was fuckin’ insane out there,” James laughed back, and Chris could practically see the look on James’s face from behind, the crinkle of his eyes, the smirk on his lips. “I don’t know that i’ve seen those guys go that ape over a girl before.”

The footsteps stopped just on the opposite side of the plane, blocking Chris from their view as the laughs continued to echo. “No I was more meaning the fact that your commander stands way too close to me and spits while he’s talking,” the princess snickered.

With a quick wipe of his hands on a rag, Chris poked his head out from behind the plane. He shot a kind smile to the princess before his eyes returned to James.“Try sitting in the front row at his briefings,” he chuckled, a smirk growing across his lips.

“Hey! I was wondering where the hell you went!” James greeted Chris, shaking off the hand Chris offered to him. “Chris, I want you to meet my sister, Rosie.”

Chris saw the way that Rosie visibly shifted, her posture tightening and her undoubtedly years of training kicking in as she put a beautiful but seemingly surface-level smile on her face as she put her hand out to greet him. Chris bowed to her but before he could take her hand, he saw James nudge her side, making her stumble slightly in her precarious heels as James told her, “Rosie, this is Chris, my best friend who I told you about. You don’t have to be formal with him.”

It was as if all those years - undoubtedly - media and publicity training slipped and it seemed as though the real Princess Rosie came out. A familiar look crossed her face, one that mimicked James’, as she mischievously arched a single brow and told him, “Oh yeah, I’ve heard about you…”

A strange feeling settled in Chris at those words, but he let the humor lead as he shook his head, admitting, “That could be dangerous.”

But his worries melted away at a simple shrug of Rosie’s shoulder as she conceded with a playful smile, “Maybe.”

Now, even all these years later, Chris could still vividly remember that smile. Sure he’d seen hundreds of photos of Rosie smiling in the papers but that smile he saw that day was different. It was one he still couldn’t forget even now as he walked up the steps to the grandiose palace, two immaculate guards opening the doors for him as he walked inside.

It felt weird to him to be entering in the place he’d seen in his history books in school on just a normal Monday. Although he’d been so close to James for years now, he couldn’t quite wrap his mind around that his best friend would one day be his King. The Air Force had been a level playing field for them all, but stepping in the palace just to meet his friend was the most surreal feeling he’d ever experienced.

Before he had a chance to dwell on it too much, he felt a hand clap on his back as James appeared next to him, smiling wide as he greeted him, “I’m glad you could come today.”

Chris suppressed an eye roll at those words, knowing there was no choice on his end - or anyone's end, really - once the royal family got involved in affairs. “Don’t even act like you didn’t pull rank and get me out of a briefing I was supposed to be in,” he muttered, only half serious. “I knew the second that they told me I suddenly wasn’t needed in it, I knew something was up.”

Chris’ words didn’t seem to affect the charming royal much. “Hey, being the prince does have its perks every now and then,” James admitted teasingly, before he turned serious. “Did you have a good time at the ceremony last night?”

He huffed out a soft chuckle, his lips curling into a wry smirk. “You know I hate that shit,” he reminded James. The odd…. Well, he didn’t know whether it was a blessing or a curse, the extended invitations and offers of accompanying James to events, whether to charity visits that always warmed his heart within seconds, taking in the countless sporting events from the royal Box with beers in hand and the sun on their skin, or sitting through an admittedly painful dinner of tucked elbows, stick-straight posture, the pricks and pinches of safety pins on his hastily-altered suits. It was all just a bit much at times.

The gravel crunched under their feet as they rounded a bend in the path, following the carefully and overly lush landscaping through the gardens as a few members of the security team lingered about. Their presence was not lost on Chris as he felt their eyes on the pair every so often, keeping a respectable distance from them. James’ sarcastic laugh seemed appropriate as he pointed out, “Try being royal, it’s shit like that every day of the week.”

Chris raised a brow, his lips curling again, this time in genuine amusement. He’d always felt for James, knowing how desperately his friend wished to disappear in a way Chris and their peers always could. “If you’re trying to make me envy you, it’s not working,” he teased him playfully, keeping the tone light as birds chirped, flying above them.

“I am wondering though if now I have to only refer to you as Captain?” James asked, his shoulder bumping into Chris’ as he shoved his hands into his pockets, a playful twinkle in his eyes at his friend’s suddenly unamused expression.

“Only if I have to refer to you as prince now,” he retorted dryly.

His friend’s jaw dropped nearly instantly, causing a smile to grow on Chris’ face. James moved a hand, shoving a laughing Chris. “That’s a low blow.”

He shrugged, turning his head over his shoulder momentarily to catch a peek at the lake behind them before they turned to head back inside the large, ornate doors. “Well, ask a stupid question,” he answered, quickly thanking the guard as the doors were pulled open and they stepped back inside.

The doors closing echoed momentarily until the only sound was their soft footsteps on the pristine floors, reverberating off the walls of the estate.

James turned serious and his hand reached out, resting on Chris’ shoulder, making them come to a stop in the middle of the entrance hall. “Seriously Chris, I’m proud of you. Nobody is going to make a better captain than you,” he congratulated.

Chris gave a soft smile, nearly uncomfortable with the honest praise. “Let’s hope so,” he sheepishly answered, grateful for the trust James placed in him. “I still haven’t gotten my first posting yet so we’ll see where things go after this. I know there were some things on hold until this ceremony happened.”

There was a look on James’ face that Chris couldn’t quite read, but he figured out why when James began, “Funny you mention that because that’s part of the reason I asked you to come today. There’s something I wanted to talk to you about…”

“I don’t know that I like the sound of that,” was Chris’ admission with a raised eyebrow, looking quizzically at his best friend who had become more like a brother to him over the past years.

“You probably won’t,” he saw James’ eyes crinkle up as he loudly laughed, Chris joining in with a chuckle of his own before his pace slowed as they ventured down the lengthy hallway Chris swore was longer than most of the Air Force hangars he’d been in. He shoved his hands in his pockets while turning to glance at James, his face more stoic as he started, “I know that you know about a little bit of what’s happened with my father.”

He just nodded before James motioned toward an open room, directing him to go in which Chris did, admitting on his way by, “Well, I’d still have you in my unit if it weren’t for that.”

There was a silence that hung in the air as James closed the door behind them, the sound echoing in the ornate room. Chris awkwardly stood, his hands fidgeting in his pockets with discomfort. He’d been with James nearly every day for years on end now, knowing him so well, better than just about anybody, but somehow this just felt different. He was standing here in the fucking royal palace and his best friend was the heir to the throne of the entire country. Here he wasn’t just his best friend James. Here he was the crowned prince.

Chris waited until James sat down in one of the overstuffed chairs, seeing him motion to the empty one before he sat himself, listening while James started explaining, “Things are actually a little worse than we thought. He needs a few months to recover which means I’m going to be here taking over for him more to give him space to rest and I’m sure you’ve seen in the papers that now Rosie is going to be taking my place on the tour.”

Over their years of friendship, he’d heard his fair share about James’ beloved sister and that coupled with what he’d read in the papers it wasn’t hard for him to imagine her reaction and couldn’t help but chuckle sarcastically, “I’m sure she’s thrilled about that.”

“You can imagine,” James just shot him a look through his own laugh, knowing just how accurate his satirical comment was. He ran a hand through his perfectly swooped over hair, his gaze falling to the carpet before admitting, “Honestly, I think Rosie has been struggling these past few years while I’ve been gone more than I realized. I stayed in the Air Force longer because I loved it and it’s what I wanted to do and honestly, I don’t think I really looked at how much it put on her.”

Not quite following him, Chris’ brows furrowed as he asked, “So are you trying to get her out of doing the tour?”

“No, I can’t really do that. I need her to do the tour because we just don’t really have a choice but the reality is that there’s a lot of pressure being put on Rosie in some different ways.” He vaguely motioned with his hand.

Chris knew there was a lot about royal life he didn’t understand and never would. Growing up with a single mother and an after school job to help buy groceries felt like night and day to how James no doubt grew up. With just a glance around the huge room with oil paintings on the wall, ornate furniture, and guards stationed right outside it was obvious how different their lives had been. But Chris had come to see just how burdensome James’ life was in a way he couldn’t imagine and couldn’t seem to understand what he alluded to with Rosie and point blank asked, “What do you mean by that?”

“There’s just a lot riding on this tour. There’s a lot of pressure on her for being a little more stable, being viewed differently, and it’s no secret about all the unrest there is along the coast which brings a pretty real level of a security threat that kind of scares me,” James admitted honestly to the person he knew he could trust more than anything. “It would make me feel a lot better if I knew there was someone there looking out for Rosie and making sure she’s alright and so I’m wondering if you’d be willing to be her pilot and on the security team for her during this tour.”

Hearing this struck a pang of fear in him, feeling like every bit of this was out of place for him. He was an Air Force captain, not someone who was prepared to do any of this. He rubbed a hand along his short beard, muttering, “Shit, I don’t know about this. I’m not trained for that and I’m not sure I’m the most qualified to be doing that for the Princess of Ellington.”

“It’s not like you’d be alone, there’s going to be the most highly trained people in the country and you’d go through a training before the tour. Also, because of what you’d be doing, it’d be double the salary you’re making now," he tried to convince him but with just the mention of a pay bump, Chris instantly felt more intrigued. For years he’d been sending most of his paychecks to his mother to help take care of her and lift some weight off her shoulders, but he knew a bump in pay would not only help him get ahead on some things of his own but fix up some of the things his mother’s home had been needing. Chris was busy making a mental list of all he could do with that when James added, “This isn’t something you have to say yes to, it’s not an order from the prince, it’s just a favor for a friend.”

With a laugh and a wave of his hand, Chris rolled his eyes playfully, “You had to fucking go there, pulling the friend card!”

“Well I know the prince asking you to do it wouldn’t be enough to pull you away from active duty,” James said through a laugh, knowing it was completely true but also that Chris was just about as loyal as they came and that he could rely on him for just about anything.

“I am going to be a little pissed at you for that," he emphasized playfully with a point of his finger.

A smirk gave away James’ feelings before he asked, “Does that mean you’re going to say yes?”

“Only because it’ll keep me busy enough that I won’t have to watch my best friend turning into a spoiled ass now that’s back to being a prince,” Chris snorted.

That response got a good laugh out of his best friend before a genuine smile crossed his lips and he admitted, “Seriously, thank you Chris. This means a lot to me.”

Unable to keep the teasing smile from his lips, he joked with a nudge to James’ knee, “Remember that when you sign my check.”

And with just that one conversation, Chris got swept into a whirlwind he wasn’t quite prepared for over the course of the next month. Being pulled from the Air Force had been tough enough, but having to sit through meeting after meeting about all of his responsibilities, safety protocols, and royal decorum and he felt like he couldn’t quite keep his head straight. There was no part of him that wanted to be doing this. Everything in him yearned for his unit and to be up in his fighter jet, following the duty for his country, but he knew that this duty was just as important.

Thinking back to when they’d first met, Chris wished he could tell his younger, scared, and intimidated self just how much James would quickly become like a brother more than anything to him over the years. Sure, he had been there for James, and he’d helped give James a sense of normalcy amongst prying eyes and intense attention, but the prince had been there for him just as much. Growing up with a single mother and tight finances had been difficult and without anyone else to rely on, Chris had felt the full weight of that. He had grown up well before his time, having to worry and bear the responsibility of more than his age normally would demand, and a way he knew James struggled to fully understand. Because of this, he knew there was a bit of an emotional wall that he’d put up, trying to always push away his vulnerable emotions to do what needed to be done, but James had been the first friend he could really be open with.

His best friend had proved to be such a loyal friend through and through, always being there to support him and able to pull out his real feelings in a way Chris didn’t even completely understand. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for James, and if it meant doing this, he decided he’d be able to handle it for a couple months. With his days being so packed full and being hours away from where he grew up, he hadn’t been able to see his mother for weeks but with only a few days before he set off on the tour, he carved out a time to drive toward the familiar terrain.

Chris recognized the sound of the rhythmic bumping of the car tires over the many potholes on the street as he slowed down to park in front of the old building. He climbed out and locked the car before starting to walk toward the building but seemed to linger on the sidewalk for a moment, his blue eyes just taking in the sight in front of him.

He knew the house he had grown up in wasn’t much to look at, sandwiched in the cramped neighborhood and right on the street. He knew how many times he had fixed the leaking faucet, had to install new windows a couple winters ago when the frames had rotted on the old ones, and how you could feel the vibrations of the cars driving by when you laid in bed. The house wasn’t pretty. Or new. Or spacious. But this house would always hold a special place in his heart thanks to the woman that lived inside.

Growing up with a single mother hadn’t always been the easiest life, remembering the many times as a teenager he’d close that black iron gate behind him late at night after working a job after school to help buy them groceries or make rent. He certainly had never gone without food or a roof over his head but things weren’t easy for them and he had seen just how tirelessly his loving mother worked to make sure he was taken care of. He remembered her saving up to buy a sewing machine, making it easier for her to be able to make their own clothes and fix any holes or tears that happened to existing ones, allowing them to get every bit of use out of everything they had. She was often up late clipping coupons or baking pies to sell to help bring in some extra money, all while still giving Chris all the love and nurturing in the world.

Chris leaned against that gate, just gazing at the house and remembering when he had gotten a scholarship to university and that deep drive and determination he had to make sure not one bit of it was wasted. That grit proved to be useful when his mother started developing some sharp pain in her back and knees, preventing her from keeping up the grueling work she had been doing and Chris stepped in to take care of her, sending most of his check from the Royal Air Force home to care for her, only keeping enough for himself to rent a tiny apartment and whatever else he needed for basic necessities.

There hadn’t been one moment of hesitation for him, wanting to do anything he could for the woman he loved more than anything and could still to this day put him in his place in the way only she could. She had always been there cheering him on, encouraging him, and loving him wholeheartedly with that same smile she had on her face now as she opened the teal door.

Her silvery gray hair was falling around her kind face, that sweet smile on her lips as she held her arms open, “Well don’t just stand there looking at the dead landscaping, come over and give me a hug!”

“Hey Ma," he smiled, walking over to wrap his arms around her short frame, feeling warm from the inside out as he genuinely said, “It’s so good to see you.”

“It’s always a good day when I get to see you," she said with a hand rubbing his back before ushering him into the warm house, motioning around the kitchen as she started looking through cabinets, “What can I get you, honey? Coffee? Some cake?”

Chris was watching her through an inquisitive eye, seeing something she hadn’t admitted and spoke up, “Ma, you need to sit down. I can see you’re still favoring that knee.” She turned around, tucking her gray hair behind her ear before averting his gaze as she turned her back to dish him up a piece of what she knew to be his favorite cake as he questioned, “I thought you said it was getting better?”

“It is, just slowly," she shrugged, pouring him a glass of milk and without even looking up, shot back at him,“Don’t give me that look, Christopher.”

But Chris just laughed from where he sat at the worn wooden table and tossed his hands in the air, “I will if you keep refusing to take care of yourself!”

Margaret put down the piece of cake that he knew she made just for him, down on the table before patting his shoulder as she sat down in her own chair, “You just worry about me too much.”

“I’m afraid of what other shit you’re going to be feeding me while I’m away on this tour. Before I know it I’m probably going to find out you’re out dancing every night while I’m away,” he teased her easily before taking a bite of the cake he loved so much.

“Don’t you worry about me, I’ll keep on resting my knee like the doctor said,” she waved him off, being just as stubborn as he knew he could be before changing the subject, “Are you officially done with all your training for the tour?”

A deep sigh escaped Chris as he leaned back in the creaky chair. “Yeah I finished yesterday, although I don’t feel like it’s enough,” he admitted, his voice sounding befuddled even to himself. His hand twitched on the worn table, well-loved with everything from rings from glasses to paint from his youth and a frown on Chris’ face as his eyes bore into streaks of red paint. “I mean, I’m not the head of security, I’m mostly just the princess’ pilot and then will be the one escorting her to events but she’ll have a whole security team.”

But Margaret’s eyes never left her son’s face, her brow raising sharply. Her voice, however, was kind and curious as always as she mused, “That seems unusual that the pilot would be doing that.”

He shrugged helplessly. “I think it is, but I think it’s more James wanting someone he trusts with his sister,” he agreed, then added, “He made it sound like she’s maybe having a hard time with all of this so I think it’s maybe his way of making it easier or something like that. It’s obviously not really my first choice but I’ll do anything for James.”

“And I know he appreciates it,” she agreed honestly, and the twinkle in her eyes made Chris think about the many times Chris had caught rides from James and his security back home from university. He remembered the way the sleek cars would draw curious eyes on the streets, but no one ever spared a second glance when they saw Prince James dart out of the car to always give Margaret a hug before heading off to the palace.

“He probably just wants to earn points with you for getting me off of active duty,” Chris chuckled with a smirk.

“James already knows he’s my adopted son, he doesn’t have to earn any more points,” Margaret told him amusedly before she sat up a bit in her chair, her face twitching momentarily as her knee shifted below the table. “Although I do like him getting you off of active duty. You know how much I hate that.”

Chris' lips twitched, curling into an instinctive smile as her overprotectiveness shone through. He knew she struggled with his choice to enlist after university - being the only family the other had, the only one that looked out for the other - but it’d always made sense for him. It was a safe career path, one that provided a lot of opportunity to see places he’d otherwise never get to see, one that was all but guaranteed to keep him and also pay for the remainder of the university tuition fees that his scholarships didn’t cover. And James being there too? He couldn’t say that wasn’t a factor, getting to spend a few more years with his brother at his side before he inevitably became King, but it helped.

However, he knew his Ma disagreed, fretting about everything from his safety abroad to on the very planes that the royal family even approved of for their heir. But those fears were admittedly easy to shake off as his heads hit the clouds, leaving his worries behind back in his bedroom by the phone each day after he hung up his calls with her. “Well I don’t know that being on the security team for the princess of the country is a whole lot safer,” he pointed out quietly.

But Margaret simply chose to ignore the issue, something they’d both grown to do, instead asking, “Have you met Princess Rosalie yet? Is she just as beautiful in person as she is in the papers?”

He couldn’t help the loud laugh that burst out of him at those words, taken aback. “Ma!” He admonished, but he couldn’t stop the laughter that continued to echo throughout the tiny room.

“I’m just asking,” she shrugged, her eyes twinkling as she listened to him.

He shook his head, eyes dropping back down to the splattered paint on the table. His hand moved and he began scratching it lightly with his nail, despite knowing it was no use. At this point, it’d been on the table for at least twenty-five years, it wasn’t going anywhere unless the table did as well. “Well I only met her like four years ago for a few minutes. Later this afternoon I’m going back to the palace to see James and he said he wanted to introduce me to Rosie.”

But the look in Margaret’s eyes became a mix of surprise, amusement, and something else he couldn’t quite put his finger on at his admission, and he found himself looking away from her gaze as she asked, “Oh so you haven’t even really met her and it’s already Rosie now?”

“I’m starting to think it’s a good thing I’m leaving for two months if you’re going to be stirring up trouble like that,” he chuckled, shaking his head as he gave up on removing the paint.

Margaret grew quiet for a few moments, eyes shining as she watched her only son. Chris' heart panged at the way she quickly moved her hand to disguise the few tears that escaped her eyes. “I’m so happy for you but I sure am going to miss you,” she told him, her voice soft and quiet. “I just love you so much.”

A soft sigh escaped Chris’ lips as he thought about the reality of the situation and vulnerably admitted, “I know, I love you too Ma and I’m going to miss you. This isn’t even really what I want to be doing but it’s a favor for James and I’m going to be making double my salary so that’s hard to say no to.”

“Well it’ll only be a couple months and then you can go back to the Air Force," she nodded, trying to brighten his spirits as well as reminding herself of when she’d see him next.

A genuine smile crossed his lips as he told her, “I’m already looking forward to that.”

Rosie stared at the books in front of her for several long moments before she reached both hands out, quickly pulling a few off the overstuffed and well-used bookshelf. Despite the longing desire to do nothing but sit in the plush armchair next to the grand bay window, Rosie begrudgingly and precariously packed the books in the bag sitting on her bed. She missed the short knock and creak of the door opening and closing in her haste to pack, knowing how much preparation there was still to do over the next several hours. Final fittings, final itinerary plans, and final interviews with a few Ellington-based outlets for pre-planned articles to come out throughout tour, showing “the strength and resilience of the royal family, even in the trying times they were in” she thought, reminding herself of the Communications Secretary, Edward Henry’s, words.

Her eyes nearly rolled out of her head at that memory when a soft “Ahem,” broke her train of thought, making her jump slightly as she turned to find her mother standing by the door to her bedroom. After a quick, routine curtsy to the Queen, her mother made her way to the sun-drenched arm chair, sitting perfectly on the overstuffed, well-loved chair, facing Rosie with an arched brow.

“Are you packing?” She asked her eldest daughter, a hint of amusement in her voice.

Rosie nodded, turning her back to her mother and she grabbed the last of the prepared items off her nightstand, delicately placing them in the bag. “Yeah, I’m almost done,” she informed her.

Her mother was quiet for a moment and as Rosie snuck a glance over her shoulder to Genevieve, she saw the mix of amusement and curiosity on her face. “You didn’t have Claire do it for you?” She questioned.

She simply shrugged. “She got all my basics but since I’ll be gone for two months I wanted to make sure I had some of the things I wanted,” she explained, and it was true - Claire had packed more clothes than Rosie had time to wear on tour, for everything from galas with dignitaries to visiting local youth sports programs to the very slight downtime she may have during her days. But it didn’t mean she wouldn’t want her favorite pair of slippers, hair brush, hair masks, or even her comfiest shirt to sleep in - the well-worn one she’d gotten early on at university.

A silence hung in the room for several moments as Rosie left the bag on her bed, knowing either Claire or one of the other aides would close up the bag when they fetched it later. She turned to her mother, arms crossed over her chest, both of them unsure what to say. The conversation didn’t feel strained, however, her relationship with her mother was well beyond the point of being uncomfortable after a lifetime of this. Of feeling that they never quite fit together the way her university friends seemed to with their mothers, having had a lifetime of caregiving to connect.

Instead, Rosie had never felt connected to her in any warm and fuzzy way. She and Annie had been kept at an arm’s distance from both of their parents through their childhood, and James had only been closer to prepare him for his future. Otherwise, the children were pawned off to nannies, teachers, and - eventually - to their respective boarding schools, with only the occasional letters or calls home.

“It’ll be nice and warm on the coast when you go. All of those beaches are so beautiful,” the Queen pointed out, and Rosie furrowed her brows a bit at those words but quickly schooled her expression.

“I’ve seen the schedule and I don’t think I'll hardly have time to breathe let alone go to the beach.”

Genevieve’s face faltered for a moment, her posture falling before straightening. “I’m sorry Rosalie…” she trailed off, her voice meek. “I’m mostly sorry you have to go on this tour at all.”

But Rosie shook her head, pushing herself forwards from where she’d been leaning on the footboard of her bed. “It’s fine,” she deflected, running a hand through her long hair, pausing momentarily before pointing out, “Dad and James overrule everyone, but that’s nothing new.”

Her mother’s frown deepened but a short knock at the door interrupted them. Rosie looked at her mother, watching as she called for them to enter. But to her surprise, the Palace staffer was there not for her mother, but for herself, informing her that Prince James was waiting for her down in the garden.

With an awkward goodbye to her mother, she left the room, the staffer trailing behind her along with a member of the security team as she made her way down various stairways, through historic hallways. As she made her way out to the gardens of the Palace, she found her brother waiting for her on a bench in front of dancing fountains, sitting in the sun.

They chatted briefly - James telling Rosie about his upcoming meetings with the Prime Minister, what he’d heard about the latest elections globally, and even that Annie’s university field hockey team had won their latest game.

It was simply passive small talk, serving only to try to break the ice and quell the tension between the siblings as they started to walk the gravel pathways through the garden, as James finally asked her, “Do you remember when you met Chris before? A few years ago?”

“Should I?” She asked, hardly able to remember much beyond the memorable meetings or the regular contacts she had outside of the Palace - those she spoke to often at her favorite charities, the nurses she regularly saw during visits to the hospital, and some of the more lively members of the public she’d met.

A sideways grin appeared on James’ face as he told her, “Not really, he’s only been my best friend for the past eight years.”

She gave him a sideways glare, thankful she’d worn flats as she stepped through the gravel. “Is that the real reason you want him on this tour? So you can spy on me?” She asked, her voice unamused.

“Maybe,” he said, his voice serious for a moment until she elbowed his side, making him laugh and hold his hands up placatingly before telling her, “I’m kidding, I want him there because I trust him more than anyone and I think he’ll make it easier for you.”

She dropped her eyes to the gravel, staring at the rocks with every passing step as her voice quietly admitted, “I don’t know that there’s a lot that’ll make it better.”

“Trust me, Chris will,” James promised her, and a familiar, comforting grin appeared on his face as he continued, “We roomed together all four years at uni, did all of our basic training together and were in the same unit so trust me when I say that once you guys warm up to each other, you’ll love him, he’s great.”

Although James kept talking about some memories over the years with Chris, Rosie couldn’t seem to concentrate on his words and found her mind wandering. She knew that James was just trying to help but she just felt like there wouldn’t be anything that would make this tour easier, and in fact having to get used to someone new seemed harder for her.

She tried to follow along as James laughed and recalled various adventures and misadventures the pair had gotten into over the years, but it did nothing to quell her growing anxieties as they slowly made their way from the gardens back towards the Palace, where a tall, lean figure came out of the doors and made their way over to them.

Having met literally thousands of people over the years Rosie had become very intuitive at reading people. It was easy for her to spy the nervousness in the tense and rigid appearance of his body. She glanced at his hands that were fidgeting inside his pockets, pulling them out before shoving them back in again as he walked closer to the siblings.

As his tall frame came to stop in front of her, she felt a little bit relaxed at the kindness that was evident in his eyes while his low voice greeted her with a bow, “Princess Rosalie, it’s a pleasure to see you again.”

When he stood back up, she saw the polite smile across his lips. It was obvious that the smile was a little tense and didn’t quite reach his eyes, keeping it from being fully genuine but even still, Rosie couldn’t help but feel just how effortlessly charming it was and suddenly she found herself searching her brain for just how she could have forgotten having met him.

She reached out her perfectly manicured hand to take his, shaking it with the many layers of manners she had learned over the years and replied, “Nice to see you as well. Thank you for joining the tour.”

“It’s an honor," his blue eyes arched kindly while their hands disconnected.

“I’m glad you both are going to be together,” James couldn’t help but chime in before reaching over to give Chris a hearty pat on the back as he informed her, “Rosie, this guy is the best pilot I’ve ever seen. I swear he spends more time pouring over his plane than he does anything else.”

Rosie intently watched while the captain’s eyebrow rose, a jovial smirk dancing across his lips while he retorted, “Can you blame me when you’re the one I had to hang out with?”

“Hey you shouldn’t be making fun of me, I got you a pretty good gig for the next two months,” James argued with his hands held in defense.

Hearing his words made all of the feelings that were so near the surface come bubbling over as she muttered quietly, “I’m not so sure you did.”

It didn’t seem as if either of the men heard her, or if they did, both chose to ignore her as she was so often used to before Chris nodded politely at her and said, “I’m looking forward to being in your service, princess.”

With a surface smile, she easily replied, “Thank you, Captain. We’re honored to have you.”

After Rosie politely shook his hand and Chris bowed, she excused herself to head back into the palace to attend to the laundry list of things that were still left to do as the sound of the two men’s laughter echoed behind her. It was obvious to her that James had connected deeply to Chris and she honestly was so happy that they had. Rosie wanted James to have someone that he trusted and was so close to, knowing in their life how nearly impossible that felt, but at the same time she just wished that James could understand that was the exact reason that she didn’t want Chris.

At this time Rosie was supposed to have a break from the duties she had been thrown into the past four years in James’ absence. She finally was going to be able to step back but that was long gone now. The past few weeks she had come to accept it and knew she didn’t have a choice, but she had hoped that she would be able to bring more of the staff she felt comfortable with, someone to make her feel like she had a friend when she so often felt utterly and completely alone. But she knew that what James or her father said went no matter what. The best she could do was just hope these next two months would go by as quickly as possible.

A/N: Thank you for your patience as we tried to write some more before posting! We are so so excited to share this story and hope you are enjoying it as well.

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flowerslut · 9 months ago

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what are your headcanons in regards to when alice and jasper first met the cullens? what was the cullen’s reactions? were they intimidated by jasper, confused by alice? how long did it take for jasper to get comfortable?

I mean, alice timing her and jasper's arrival so that emmett and edward weren't around has always been suuuper telling. because like, yeah. I fucking BET that if alice and jasper showed up out of nowhere with everyone home, between emmett's 'act now think later' tendencies and edward being able to see into jasper's head (which I'm sure was full of tense, uncomfortable "if it comes down to it I can just kill them and we can dip" thoughts), in combination with the entire family just taking one LOOK at jasper, it would not have gone smoothly in any way 💀

I mean, in breaking dawn even BELLA perceives jasper as a scary/dangerous threat on an instinctual level that she hardly understands!! and he's her best friend's husband! who she's known for over a year!!! no matter how much he's chilling out the atmosphere there's no way esme, rosalie, and carlisle aren't at least a liiiittle nervous about him. alice could have shown up nude and covered head-to-toe in human blood and i'm confident they would have still been more uneasy about jasper. (don't mind me linking more of g's posts. she's the only person I know who would have all this evidence documented lmfaooo ♡)

but thankfully, because of alice's and jasper's gifts, those two should be able to nail introductions 10 out of 10 times with a 100% success rate! if alice can pick the best possible route to take and jasper can keep the atmosphere light and relaxing, then they could probably charm their way through any 1950s entryway! I highly doubt jasper did the same midnight sun baseball scene camouflage, but I'm sure he did plenty of tension-smoothing.

I personally enjoy that they planned to show up when it was only carlisle, esme, and rosalie home. in midnight sun, alice fucking glomps edward (no, I won't apologize for using this word because I swear to god it's literally what she does) which he only responds positively towards because of their weird, instant psychic connection that lets her bombard him with LOOK-I-SWEAR-WE'RE-GONNA-BE-BEST-FRIENDS-I-LOVE-YOU-ALREADY visions. tbh, I think it's edward's absence specifically that alice probably needed. sure, emmett would've automatically perceived jasper as a threat alongside the rest of the family, but I bet that alice knew that if she could just get jasper through the door, and get carlisle to hear them out, then dealing with edward (and his ability to see what goes on in that nightmare's jasper's brain) would be muuuuch easier.

to answer your more specific questions: rosalie was definitely the very last person to be "okay" with their presence, but I'm sure she was fine with alice first, and that it took emmett to get her to be okay with jasper, too. it probably took jasper ages to adjust to living peacefully alongside 5 strangers—I'm sure these difficulties were probably exacerbated by alice being comfortable and happy right off the bat. and i'm sure the reason that jasper finally calmed down and relaxed into his new life with the cullens had to do with a combination of his trust in alice, his respect for carlisle, and the improvements that vegetarianism had on his mental health (we, as a fandom, forget too quickly that this war criminal has a canonical eating disorder and that's so INTERESTING AND FUNNN)

#alice cullen #jasper hale #jalice

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an-indecisive-nerd · 6 months ago

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Introduction to an-indecisive-nerd's writing chaos!

Hello and welcome to me trying to figure out how to use Tumblr to share my work!

This is going to be an introduction to my current wips and some organizational stuff

Okay so, the series you're going to be hearing me talk about the most is called What's Your Story. It's a long series with an undetermined amount of books in it.

What's Your Story is a shifting pov series that follows the main characters through their lives and how they get turned upside down, eventually showing how everyone's stories tie together. WYS has the endless cosmos as its setting, and its eye is fixed on the Organization, a group made up of the most powerful and the most evil, bent on bringing everything under their rule. This cosmic war is the backdrop for the dramatic lives of our little freedom fighters, most of which just want to survive with their worlds intact.

I'm going to be posting lore about What's Your Story with #wys lore

Characters will be discussed with #wys characters

Quotes and samples will be #wys samples

Important links for WYS:

Book names

Book one acts

Book one act one

Character intros:

Mel

Brandon

Adrian

Alex

Lucia

Phoebe

William

Eleanor

Faine

The gods

Cerys

Another one of my wips that I've begun to share is tentatively titled Appearances Are Deceiving. Here's an introduction to it:

Kairna and Taren are twin siblings, and the top students of the prestigious Hornfel Academy, the best school on the planet. However, with a new and slightly strange Director recently being put in charge, the school's reputation may well be on the line. Kairna and Taren are orphans and the rarest subtype of elf, one that's often hunted down for their power. Without the protection of the school, things will go south for them fast. You follow them as they try to figure out what this new director's deal is and help him retain control of the school.

I'm going to be posting lore about Appearances Are Deceiving with #aad lore

Characters will be discussed with #aad characters

Quotes and samples will be #aad samples

Character Introductions:

Kairna

My newest wip is We All Lie Amongst The Thorns.

This is a dark fairy tale retelling that combines several tales into one. The story follows the main character Rosalie (Sleeping Beauty) as she tries to discover who she really is. She eventually learns the dark secrets of her past which leads her to resent her birth parents, the king and queen. She goes on a mission to find others who have been unjustly cast out by the kingdom to help her bring it down.

I'm going to be posting lore about We All Lie Amongst The Thorns with #walatt lore

Characters will be discussed with #walatt characters

Quotes and samples will be #walatt samples

Character Introductions:

Rosalie

Another wip, Nearly Parallel Lives

These thirteen people have nothing to do with each other. They've never met or heard of each other. They live in completely different parts of the world. But when strange things start happening to all of them, they feel strangely compelled to investigate. Through their investigations they begin to discover that things might not be as separate as they originally seemed.

You know the drill: #npl lore #npl characters #npl samples

The Enchanted Forests

The human population is expanding, and they need space. The Enchanted Forests are sacred places that have never been touched by human hands. They are in the way of human expansion, and are going to be cut down. The last surviving sorceress and protector of the forests is not happy about this, but she's just one woman. She needs to recruit more to her cause. She needs successors.

#tef lore #tef characters #tef samples

Survival Is A Team Sport

It starts out as any normal day. Then the world ends. Okay not really, but if apocalypses exist, this is one. Survival Is A Team Sport follows high schooler Camryn Bird and his group of friends as they try to survive the craziness that has descended upon the world, find their families if they're still alive, and find out what caused this apocalypse.

#siats lore #siats characters #siats samples

Like A Movie

Like A Movie is your stereotypical romance novel, except it's written from the perspective of the stereotypical tall dark handsome love interest. The problem? Said love interest is not at all interested in any of the girls he's "supposed" to fall in love with. He starts to believe that he's simply not capable of love, until he meets someone new. A young man with a beautiful infectious smile. Maybe he was just looking in the wrong place after all.

#lam lore #lam characters #lam samples

My newest wip is currently unnamed (if you have name suggestions let me know because I love y'alls names)

This is a surrealist story that is both cozy and eerie. The main character is a lonely author who is firmly convinced that she is slowly going mad. The story follows her through her daily life, leaving the reader to decide whether or not these strange events really happened, or are just a product of the author's growing insanity. The story has elements of loss and dealing with grief, found family, and learning to live with oneself. This one is very personal and almost an autobiography of sorts. It'll be the last thing I do.

Stuff about this will just be posted with #new wip for now, until I get a name

This post will likely be updated every once in a while.

If you want to join the taglist, interact with this post here (should hopefully work now), if you only want to be tagged in some stories, leave a comment to tell me which ones

If you only want to be tagged for certain stories, leave a comment or message me with what you want to be tagged in

See you soon!

@pheonix358 @unforgettable-sensations @littleladymab

@megamijadeheart @my-bright-legacy @ominous-feychild

@thecomfywriter @wyked-ao3 @anamelessfacelessnerd

@differentnighttale @mysticstarlightduck @the-letterbox-archives

@leahnardo-da-veggie @paeliae-occasionally @tr4sh-p4nd4-404

@lovey-dovey-wovey @sidon0isnt0here @damonk13 @oliolioxenfreewrites

#writing #writeblr #my writing #writers #wys

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nesiacha · 5 months ago

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Paradoxes in the Revolutions of 1792 and the Revolt of 1870

Warning: There are some text elements in the treatment of Algerian deportees in New Caledonia that are shocking. So refrain from reading if you are not ready.

Do you share my impression of certain aspects of the different revolutions or uprisings in France? I mean, the French Revolution, at its most left-leaning during the government of Year II, was very conservative regarding property rights. Regarding property rights, the entire political class was very timid, even the far left like the Enragés and the Hébertists, who were more focused on economic issues like taxation. However, some, like Momoro, apparently began to consider land redistribution, such as sharing large farms, but without a clear plan (and far from any notion of collectivization of agriculture). There was a concession made by the Convention on property rights with the Ventôse Laws, perhaps? And it is true that on certain economic issues, there were conservative elements, even though during the journée of September 5, 1793, the sans-culottes managed to extract the maximum.

Even Gracchus Babeuf, who seems to advocate for collective exploitation, primarily talks about agriculture. I'm not saying there weren't progressive aspects. There were, like the introduction of universal suffrage, for example, and many other aspects, such as the fact that deputies like Louis Michel le Peletier defended the project to implement free, mixed, secular, and compulsory education, supported by several deputies, including Robespierre (it's sad that this was only adopted years later by a man who, opportunistically, in my opinion, lacked the integrity of Le Peletier, who seems to have been opposed to most of the revolutionaries of 1793-1794 and who unjustly reaped all the credit for this project—I’m talking about Jules Ferry, sorry to the fans of this character). But it must be acknowledged that there were also conservative aspects.

Paradoxically, the Convention proved to be extremely progressive compared to so many others regarding the colonies. The abbé Raynal, so conservative on property rights, apparently called Toussaint Louverture the "Black Spartacus." Sonthonax, considered a Brissotin and advocate of gradual abolition of slavery, did not hesitate to oppose the colonists and slaveholders (just like the Convention) by granting full citizenship to the revolting slaves of 1791 barely a year later. There was the dissolution of the colonial assembly, and important and well-known revolutionaries enthusiastically supported the revolts of the colonized, even their independence, like Deputy Marat or the prosecutor of the Commune, Chaumette, among many others. Black deputies were elected, such as Jean-Baptiste Belley. Some Black people managed to attain high ranks. The overly hostile colonists could be expelled, and there was the dismissal of Governor Philippe Blanchelande, who had distinguished himself by his fierce repression of the slave revolt. During his execution in 1793, Rosalie Julien, one of the important women of the revolution, wrote, "He made the blood of Blacks and patriots flow in streams." It is important to note that she equated the attack on Blacks with that on people considered patriots, a more common position at that time than one might think. I know we must be careful about anachronisms, but I feel that aside from a distrust of foreigners (though this did not prevent people like Fleuriot Lescot or Claude François Lazowski, who came from a Polish family, from holding important positions), the French political class was less racist in 1794 than in 1870 or during the mid-20th century, especially concerning the colonies and overseas territories. There was a regrettable step backward (honestly, can you imagine the Convention of Year II, or the Jacobin or Cordelier Clubs tolerating even the idea of a horrible human zoo as we saw in 1906? I can't). Of course, there were people who supported slavery at that time, like Cloots (a very questionable and paradoxical figure of the revolution, considered close to the Hébertists, yet a very wealthy and conservative man regarding property rights, who had pro-slavery thoughts and was a fervent supporter of colonization because his family and he profited from it, even though he supposedly wanted the Revolution to extend beyond borders according to his own words; according to historian Antoine Resche, he called himself the orator of the human race—very complicated as a revolutionary).

For those who think of the left envisioned by Karl Marx, we're still far from it. Here's an excerpt from The Holy Family: "The revolutionary movement that began in 1789 with the social circle, which, in the midst of its course, had as its main representatives Leclerc and Roux and eventually succumbed temporarily with Babeuf's conspiracy, had sown the seeds of the communist idea, which Babeuf's friend, Buonarroti, reintroduced in France after the revolution of 1830. This idea, developed consistently, is the idea of the new state of the world." Moreover, I have encountered communists who heavily criticize the revolutionaries, except for some ultra-revolutionary members (a few have even added Marat to the list of characters they appreciate, though they know he was not an ultra-revolutionary) by explaining that, in their view, the second revolution from 1792 until the fall of the last Montagnards like Charles Gilbert Romme remained bourgeois, though less so than the one of 1789.

Abbé Raynal

Jean Baptiste Belley

Léger-Félicité Sonthonax

Pierre-Gaspard Chaumette

Jacques Roux

Jean Paul Marat

Antoine-François Momoro

Anacharsis Cloots

Toussaint Louverture

Gracchus Babeuf

Jean-Baptiste Edmond Fleuriot-Lescot

Rosalie Jullien

On the other hand, we have the Paris Commune uprising of 1870, which ended in horrific repression (some estimate that 10,000 people died within a week in the city of Paris).

The origins of this Paris Commune are quite complex to explain, involving the fall of Napoleon III's dictatorship, Bazaine's lamentable behavior, the fact that the new regime forming a republic was composed of monarchists while Paris was predominantly republican, the new regime's abolition of wages, which was one of the only sources of income for workers, and so on.

These Paris communards represented various leftist movements, including the Blanquists, named after Auguste Blanqui (a small anecdote: the composer of "The Internationale" was a communard named Eugène Pottier), anarchists, Proudhonians, as well as centralists like Delescluze (some might even call them Jacobins, though I am not well-informed about that), and even collectivists. The Paris Commune marked a significant shift to the left (albeit briefly). I will mention four measures passed by this government: the abolition of night work (at least for bakers), the separation of Church and State, free, secular, and compulsory education, and the elimination of distinctions between legitimate and illegitimate children.

The repression was atrocious, with death sentences raining down (one of the key figures in the repression, alongside Thiers, was Jules Ferry), and deportations to New Caledonia as well.

It is here that the communards (or at least a significant number of them) were less progressive on certain issues than the main actors of the Convention of Year II. Except for individuals like Louise Michel or Charles Malato, the son of deported communards who followed them to Nouméa, most of the communards did not support the Kanaks at all. There was a lingering racist attitude towards these colonized people, who were also fighting against the injustices imposed on them by the French government. Some even participated in the repression against the Kanaks following the Great Kanak Revolt of 1878, whose main leaders were Atai, chief of Komalé, and Cavio, chief of Nékpi, among others.

I have the impression that the communards behaved similarly toward the deported Algerians. Indeed, in 1869, a significant new insurrection broke out in Algeria, spreading from Kabylie, the Aurès, and towards Algiers, and other territories (the war against France began in 1830, with the defeat of Emir Abdelkader in 1847, the division of three departments in 1848, and the continued Algerian resistance against the establishment of the French colony, notably led by Lalla Fatma N’Soumer and Cherif Boubaghla, though Fatma N'Soumer was captured by the French army in 1857 and died in captivity in 1863 at the age of 33, and Cherif Boubaghla died in combat in 1854; other uprisings lasted until 1870, and one of the most significant was that named Mokrani revolt ).

The insurrection was defeated after fierce fighting, with death sentences raining down, the expulsion of tribes, the sequestration of property, and deportations as well, with around 60 deportees dying from the conditions of deportation. Louise Michel described their arrival in these terms: "We saw them arrive in their great white burnouses, the Arabs deported for having also risen up against oppression. These Orientals, imprisoned far from their tents and flocks, were simple and just, and could not understand the way they had been treated."

They had even fewer privileges than the deported communards. According to some sources, they were chained with red-hot irons, subjected to more intense forced labor, and had to eat soup from the shoes of the jailers. They were forcibly separated from their wives, leading some to marry Kanaks, while others married communard women. It is true that some communards, like Louise Michel and Jean Allemane, campaigned for their amnesty. There were escapes by Algerians, some of whom were recaptured. One of the most famous was Azziz El Haddad, who died in the home of his friend the communard and former deportee Eugène Mourot on August 22, 1895, in Paris. Mourot was also opposed to the colonization of Algeria. A collection by the communards against colonization ensured that his body was repatriated to Algeria.

However, while some deported communards supported them, it should not be forgotten that other communards were driven by colonialist mindsets. It is also interesting to learn more about the Commune of Algiers, proclaimed by Alexandre Lambert, among others. Some European insurgents supported a fraternal republic, but one that excluded Algerian insurgents. Alexandre Lambert, who was killed during the Bloody Week, published a newspaper called Le Colon. The title is quite telling.

Auguste Blanqui

Charles Malato

Jean Allemane

Louise Michel

Eugène Mourot

Bou-Mezrag El-Mokrani, brother of Mohamed El-Mokrani

Cheikh El Haddad father of Aziz el Haddad and Cheikh M'hand

Chérif Boubaghla and Lalla Fatma N'Soumer (Henri Félix Emmanuel Philippoteaux, 1866) alleged portraits

Émir Abdelkader

Ataï

And so, this is the paradox of these two French "revolutionary groups" from 1792-1794, and the group of the Communards from 1870. The first group, still very timid on certain social rights such as property rights (even within the extreme left), was nevertheless much more committed to advocating for more rights among men of different colors, with some even going further by supporting the ideas of revolts by the colonized. Moreover, the colonizers were much less listened to after a certain point in time.

In contrast, during the Paris Commune, while there were more progressive ideas and people who were less conservative about property rights (after all, there was representation from collectivists), they were much less engaged in supporting the colonized and at times even approved of colonial repressions.

Sources: Jean Marc Schiappa Alain Decaux Antoine Resche Mehdi Lallaoui - Kabyles du Pacifique

P.S.: I'm not trying to hand out praise or criticism regarding property rights. I'm merely attempting to make an observation. In fact, I might even be wrong on certain points, so I invite you to correct me. And I don't intend to bash the Paris Communards, many of whom suffered or gave their lives for an ideal Republic, and whose horrific repression we don't often discuss. But it's important to acknowledge everything, including their mistakes. Perhaps one day I should address the question of the French left as a whole, from 1789 to 1962, concerning colonization.

#frev #french revolution #france #commune #Paris Commune #1700s #1800s #algeria #new caledonia #colonization #Kanaks #marat #louise michel #Blanqui #babeuf #sonthonax #toussaint louverture #third republic

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cluelessteam · 1 year ago

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Eternal Harmony: {~Fateful Encounter~}

Summary: Y/N's ordinary life takes a supernatural twist when they encounter the mysterious Cullen family in Forks. Immersed in a world of eternal love and trials, Y/N becomes a vital part of the Cullens' immortal story. Guided by Alice's visions and Jasper's wisdom, they face cosmic threats and navigate the complexities of supernatural existence. The story unfolds through eclipses of emotions and trials, culminating in a dawn where enduring bonds and love echo through the ages—a forever-bound journey in the supernatural realm.

Characters: The Cullen family

Pairing: Jasper x Reader x Alice

Warnings: No Warnings

Word Count: 563

Chapter 1 --- Chapter 2

The rain-soaked streets of Forks glistened under the diffused light filtering through the low-hanging clouds. Y/N, a newcomer to this seemingly ordinary town, meandered through the wet thoroughfares with an air of contemplation. The scent of damp earth mingled with the piney aroma of the surrounding forest, creating an atmosphere that felt both serene and mysterious.

Forks High School loomed ahead, its brick facade appearing almost foreboding against the backdrop of the verdant landscape. Y/N couldn't shake the feeling that this journey wasn't just a relocation but a shift in the very fabric of their existence.

As they entered the bustling corridors, the air hummed with subdued conversations and the shuffling of students. Y/N felt the weight of curious gazes, the subtle scrutiny of a town where everyone seemed to know everyone else. Yet, amidst the familiar faces, one group stood out—the enigmatic Cullen siblings.

Alice, with her ethereal grace, moved through the crowd like a dancer in a world of mere mortals. Her short, spiky hair seemed to defy the norm, and her golden eyes held an otherworldly sparkle. Beside her, Jasper exuded a quiet strength that hinted at experiences beyond the scope of high school dramas.

The Cullens' eyes met Y/N's, and for a brief moment, the world seemed to pause. Alice, her voice carrying a musical cadence, was the first to break the silence. "You must be Y/N! I saw you coming." Her words, though cryptic, were delivered with a warmth that melted away any apprehension.

Jasper, standing beside Alice, offered a polite nod. "Pleasure to meet you, Y/N," he greeted with a subtle Southern drawl, the formality of the words belying the enigmatic aura that surrounded him.

The introduction seamlessly transitioned into an invitation to join them for lunch. Y/N found themselves at the epicenter of the diverse Cullen clan—Edward, Bella, Emmett, and Rosalie—each with a presence that hinted at a shared history beyond the confines of high school hierarchies.

The cafeteria buzzed with the energy of animated conversations and laughter. Alice, with her infectious enthusiasm, occasionally paused the discussion to share glimpses of the future she saw in her mind's eye. "Look at this, everyone! Y/N's going to make our lives even more interesting," she proclaimed, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Edward, the mind-reader, chuckled. "It seems Alice has foreseen a lively addition to our family dynamic."

Jasper, the empathetic one, added, "There's something different about your emotions. It's refreshing," his words resonating with a depth that hinted at untold stories.

The day unfolded with shared classes, stolen glances, and the palpable sense of an unspoken connection. Bella, observant as always, leaned in. "Looks like you've caught the attention of the fascinating duo."

As the final bell rang, Alice took Y/N under her wing. "Come with us. There's something we'd like to show you."

Jasper, with a rare smile, added, "It's a part of our world, Y/N. A world that you're now a part of."

As they led Y/N toward the woods surrounding Forks, a sense of both trepidation and excitement filled the air. The trees stood sentinel, their ancient branches whispering secrets to those who dared to listen. Little did Y/N know that this fateful encounter was the prelude to a journey where love, immortality, and destiny intertwined in ways they could never have imagined.

#Twilight #Edward Cullen #Alice Cullen #Emmet Cullen #Bella Cullen #Rosalie Hale #Jasper Hale #Carlisle Cullen #Esme Cullen #Fanfic #jasper x reader #alice x reader #Jasper x Alice #jasper x reader x alice

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sodascherrycola · 4 months ago

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Jack Carter Park (@thejackpark)

DOB: May 17th 2014 Age: 21 years old Hometown: Seoul, South Korea Nicknames: Jay, Jackie S/O: Luna Lee Kids: None Best Friend(s): Chandler Kim, Joshua Min, Mateo and Mason Kim Aesthetic: Jack was his parents translator. At the time he was born Jimin and Sabrina had only been seeing each other for a little less than a year and still had a hard time communicating. Jack thought it was his responsibility to explain what the other was saying, growing to learn both English and Korean as his first language. It got tiring at times, but his parents never noticed it happening as often as it did. Until one day, the two parents were fighting, but growing increasingly frustrated with the fact that the other had no clue what they were saying, Jack intervened and tried to translate in the middle of the argument. That's when the two looked at their little boy and realised what he was doing and how exhausted he was with translating back and forth being the messenger in his parents relationship. They had sat their son done to talk to him, explaining that he didn't have to do that, that there were other ways they could get through to each other, talking not needed. Jack learned what it meant to say something without saying anything at all. He had always been a pretty quiet boy, and this helped him express his feelings without getting too much into it. He was very popular at school, teaching the other kids English was something he was good at. He would see his friend Mason at school, but people didn't think he was cool because he was mixed. This is when he first learned racism. When Mason's family moved to Canada he cried. His friend had left him and he didn't know why. Jimin had explained to him that he would still see Mason and Mateo because he worked with their father, Namjoon. It was hard on the kid but he understood. When his little sister was born he was ecstatic. He watched his parents take care of her and tried to join in. He was very kind and careful with everyone, but especially with baby Gwen. They grew up to be extremely close and are literally best friends now.

Gwendoline Analise Park (@gwennygwen)

DOB: November 8th 2019 Age: 16 years old Hometown: Seoul, South Korea Nicknames: Gwen, Gweny, Gigi S/O: No One Kids: None Best Friend(s): Atticus Min and Ara Jeong Aesthetic: The only way to describe what Gwendoline Park was when she was a child is happy. She was always laughing, usually at her Appa and Oppa's silly antics. She was very kind and rarely got upset with anyone. She was known to wear pretty dresses with matching sun hats, and her hair tied into plats or pigtails. Speaking of her Oppa, she absolutely adored Jack. He was her favourite person in the whole world. When she went to school she always tried looking for him, and normally got lost and asked for his classroom number. Jack didn't mind this one bit, loving his little sister just as much, however once he got older he started to get embarrassed. He started pushing her away a bit, little by little. It was hard for Gwen, but in a way she understood. She learned to keep her distance, teenage boys can be mean, and she started filling her days with other things. They got much closer as she got older, and once Jack started to drive. The two would go out for drives late at night for food, or simply just to drive around listening to music and gossiping. Gwen and Jack were definitely the reasons why Jimin and Sabrina wanted more kids. They were absolute angels and rarely ever fought with each other. Then Harrison came along when Gwendoline was three years old. She hated him. Maybe it was Jack's helpfulness toward Harry, maybe it was her parent's direct need to be with the baby constantly. No one knows, but Gwen hated it. She started to lash out more, get sent home from school more, and even fight with her parent's on silly things like bedtime and dinner items. God forbid she has broccoli instead of rice pudding. Her Appa gave into that one a bit too many times. Jimin hated seeing his princess cry, more than anything, so he usually was the one to calm her down. He was good at that, but not so good at talking about her feelings. That was where Sabrina and Jack would come in. The two would talk to Gwen one on one, and that's when they came to that conclusion that she was jealous of her little brother. Now that they know, Jimin started getting off work early or if he couldn't bring her with him to the studio, Sabrina took up baking again and included her daughter in the process, and Jack started teaching Gwen how to help take care of Harrison, that he would grow on her. And he did. She was very protective over Harrison, to a point where she wouldn't even let her Uncles hold him. That was her baby and everyone was just glad she came around.

Harrison Levi Park (@harrypark)

DOB: August 11th 2022 Age: 13 years old Hometown: Seoul, South Korea Nicknames: Harry, Hare, Hazzy S/O: No One Kids: None Best Friend(s): Nora Kim Aesthetic: The most energetic little boy known to man. Harrison was very hyper since he was still his mother's stomach. He was constantly kicking Jimin in the face and jumping on Sabrina's bladder. When he came out into this world, he was kicking. You could lay him on his back and he would just start motoring like he was on a bike. Safe to say, when he started walking, it was every man for his own. Harrison loved to run away from whoever he was with in public, the amount of news headlines he had about him toddling away in a store without his parent's knowing was plentiful. Harry struggled a lot in school, never having the longest attention span to last the period, instead of reaching to be the smartest, he decided to be the funniest. Haz was the class clown and everyone loved him. He was never afraid to embarrass himself, but it never worked like that. He was very handsome, being the best mix between his parents, girls didn't find his antics embarrassing, they found it charming. Harrison was the star baseball player at his school and went on to win them their first championship in 13 years, an achievement both his parents, siblings, aunts and uncles, plus cousins were there to watch and celebrate. In fact, they took up a whole stand of bleachers, which in turn created a new rule on how many people a player could invite to a game. He was more swift and sporty than the rest of his family, but they encouraged him from a young age to get his energy out through something productive and that's when Sabrina placed him in baseball. Jimin was leaning towards putting him into dance, but it never stuck with Harry. Jimin was upset but got over it quickly after become a baseball dad, carrying his son and his equipment back to the car after a particularly long practice.

Rosalie Beth Park (@rosiebpark)

DOB: August 26th 2024 Age: 11 years old Hometown: Seoul, South Korea Nicknames: Rose, Rosie, Alie S/O: No One Kids: None Best Friend(s): Malik Min, Julien Jeon, and Samara Lee Aesthetic: Rosie was a very quiet child. She learned to just sit back and watch everyone else. She loved following Jimin and the boys to the studio, sit on her Uncle Yoongi's lap and just enjoy the music and process of the making of her favourite songs. Rosalie was her father's pride and joy, but she loved her Uncle Jungkook the best. It pained Jimin to get off a flight and see his little girl run to his best friend and not him. It got so bad that he cut Jungkook off for a while, try and wean Rosie off him for a little bit. It worked, however it went right back to usual afterwards. The only thing Jungkook thought of was to ignore the mini Park. She lost her shit when she realised. Rosalie would act out and speak out of turn, and it made Jimin have to parent her properly. She got sad about all of this and would race over to Jimin when it would occur. Biggest daughter's man he was. He took this time to embrace his baby girl. As she grew older, she got more into the music her father was making. She was obsessed with how it was made, the whole shebang of it all. She started taking music lessons and learning how to produce with her Uncle Yoongi. She actually became really good, and is still practising now.

Benjamin Ryan Park

DOB: April 22nd 2026 Age: 9 years old Hometown: Seoul, South Korea Nicknames: Ben, Benji S/O: No One Kids: None Best Friend(s): Noah Kim, Madeleine and Leo Jeon Aesthetic: Jimin finally got his dancer in the family and it only took five tries. Benjamin was a mover. Not as aggressively as his older brother Harrison, but still one nonetheless. Ben adored dancing like his father. He learned how to walk with his appa, and how to dance from his appa. Jimin placed him in dance classes as soon as his son could bounce along to a tune. Sabrina couldn't help knowing how cute her baby looked on stage with his toddler friends bopping around to some pop song. Every single performance was recorded by his parents and passed around to every single family member. Benjamin Park was supposed to be the last child, the end of Jimin and Sabrina's line, but that all changed when his eomma found out she was pregnant when he was five years old. Ben was extremely gentle with his baby sister, learning how fragile she was from Jack and Gwen. He loved to help out with her and helped her walk and talk. Her first word was actually Ben. Well sort of. It was a variation of his name he was certain. He even brought her along to his kindergarten show and tell with the help of his father. They were very close, and he was very protective, barely letting anyone else touch his baby. Benji was determined to teach her how to dance, and would constantly play upbeat music and dance around her in hopes that she would join in. She didn't until she was two, but that was a very special day in the Park household. He was Everly's biggest supporter in everything she did.

Everly Joy Park

DOB: December 16th 2031 Age: 4 years old Hometown: Seoul, South Korea Nicknames: Ev, Evvy, Eva S/O: No One Kids: None Best Friend(s): Daisy Kim and Olivia Jeon Aesthetic: Everly was just the light of everyone's life. She is still young enough to have the naive charm children have, and was a miracle child to her family. She was not planned in fact, protected against, but a blessing anyways. Her older siblings had her back always and forever, especially Benjamin. When Everly came home crying from a play date with the Kim Twins, Ben was ready to get to the bottom of it. When Benji found out that 3 year old William Kim was pulling his sister's hair, he was ready to pound him, which shocked his parents, being the gentle child he was. They calmed both him and Everly down and found it quite endearing actually. Everly was very lively and bright for her age. She loved to dance and sing, loved learning too. Ev was extremely smart for her age and suppressed even her Uncle Joonie in her findings.

#bts #bangtan #bts introductions #park jimin #jimin x oc #park jimin x oc #sabrina park #Jack park #gwendoline park #Harrison park #Rosalie park #benjamin park #everly park

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