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mydearlybeloathed · 1 year 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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wearebarca · 1 year ago

Text

2. Captured // // Alexia Putellas x Original character

Part 1 Part 2

synopsis: Rosalie has never stayed too long at the same place. When the opportunity of a lifetime presents itself critical moment in her life, the photographer decides to once again leave behind what she knows and joins the staff of Europe's best football team.

word count: 5,7K

18 + (eventually)

A/N: Currently procrastinating instead of finishing my thesis on "The methods of repression used during the first Christian Inquisition" Spanish is from google translate so please be nice. French is my first language so all should be good on that part. Enjoy.

As soon as the words left her lips, Rosalie knew that she would be in for a world of teasing from the two women who still stood behind her. She had hoped that even with the few years she had spent playing in France, Lucy had not picked up enough French to understand what she had said, but the burst of giggles that was heard quickly killed all her hopes. The confused look plastered on the Catalonian made the French-Canadian turn an even darker shade of red.

“ Perdon? I am sorry I do not understand,”

“Oh no I’m sorry, I got my languages mixed up. I’m Rosalie” She extended her hand for the captain to shake.

“Rosalia? It is nice to meat you, I am Alexia, Welcome to Barcelona ,” Her hand was much bigger than her own, calloused from all her training. The blond never broke eye contact from the smaller brunette who did not dare to look away.

A cough finally broke the girls from their interaction. Lucy and Keira were still there, but another woman had joined them. “ We hope you enjoy it here,” Alexia let her hand go and made her way back to Mapi, who was looking at her with a raised eyebrow and a cheeky smile hovering on her lips, which earned her a loud smack behind the head.

“ Hola chica, I’m Sara, one of the coaches, welcome to the team,” she hugged the Canadian like she had known the woman for years, “we just wanted to tell you that if you would like, we could go over your training together! We’d love to help if you need.” The woman’s enthusiasm made it hard for the photographer to refuse which led them to set up a time the following week for a run together. It was indeed a good proposition since her marathon was quickly approaching and a professional opinion on her training routine wouldn’t be a bad thing.

Soon enough, all the introductions were made and Rosalie was left once again alone with Lucy, who was still giggling about her friend’s encounter with her captain. Seeing as the girl was showing signs of being a little overstimulated, she decided to drag her to the locker room. Once inside, she shoved Keira’s spare boots in her hands and pushed the younger girl back to the pitch. Back at England’s national camp, especially during the last one they spent together, whenever Rosalie felt like the world was spinning too fast around her, Lucy would pull her aside and pass the ball with her. This would always relax the brunette and help her talk about whatever was on her mind.

« Are we even allowed to do this” she asked as she kicked the ball right at Lucy’s feet.

“We have twenty minutes before the end of training and I am not going back in there.” She said wincing “ And don’t worry, the staff does this all the time” she kicked it back to Rosalie, the ball flying to her chest, absorbing the shock before falling to her feet.

“Your captain seems intense”

“ oh oui madame elle est très intense.” The younger woman's eyes rolled so far she would have caught a glimpse of her frontal lobe

“ Got you a little nervous didn’t she”

“ Don’t even start Bronze” While she was distracted, Rosalie stole the ball from Lucy’s feet and sent it to the top right corner of the goal. A few cheers could be heard from the gym where a few players had gathered.

“Some defender you are” the younger woman said as she started to walk toward the building. She turned around just in time to see Lucy lunge towards her and grab her by the waist to hoist her on her shoulder like a potato sack.

Lunch arrived soon after and everyone made their exit towards the cafeteria. Rosalie sat at the table with the rest of the media team whom she hadn’t had the chance to meet yet. Everyone was very welcoming, especially Marcello who was one of the marketing guys and Isabella who is the head of social media and the face of barça’s media. Marcello is a very laid back guy with an easy laugh while Isabella was a whirlwind of colours, energy and excitement. The both of them together completed each other and quickly included the Canadian in their conversation, speaking in English and slowed down Spanish for her to understand.

Even with the cacophony of voices and constant back and forth between tables, at the other side of the room, Alexia seemingly could not take her eyes away from the brunette who’s bright green eyes had not left her mind. A sharp pinch on her arm pulled her from her day dream. “ If you stare harder she might combust, you know.”

Mapi had watched her friend stare for a good ten minutes before feeling bad for the brunette across the room. « You can talk to her you know, you’d like her she seems like a simple girl. »

« Mhm »

« She’s gonna fit well here, have you seen her instagram? She is very talented and obviously very beautiful and… » The blond captain tuned out her friend who she knew was going on one of her rants and didn’t need the blond's participation in this one-sided conversation.

The truth was that the catalonian did not know how to feel toward the new photographer. She had never been a big fan of the media team. She knew that they were simply doing their jobs but she had always hated this part of professional football. The eyes constantly watching her, her private life exposed for profit, she simply wasn’t comfortable whenever a camera was near.

She didn’t hate the previous head photographer, but she never bothered to be more than courteous towards her. For some reason, this time, there was something different, she was curious about the canadian.

The afternoon went fast for Rosalie. An official meeting with the media team, more documents to sign and more hands to shake. The brunette was itching to take her camera and go down to the pitch to start on some training pictures, which she did as soon as she was free to leave management’s office.

It was now around two in the afternoon and the sun was shining bright on the training pitch. The whole team was out and playing a practice game and the photographer took this as an opportunity to take a few shots. She had heard Spanish football and how different but these girls were definitely on a different level and seeing them in action for the firing time was truly impressive, the woman thought as she watched the ball fly towards the goal, the shot so precise and powerful that Sandra Paños had no chance to block it.

It did not take long before she was running around the pitch with her camera in hand. Her hair was up in a ponytail and she could feel her baby hairs stick to her forehead. The heat was getting to the photographer who had rolled the sleeves of her t-shirt and was currently cursing her choice of pants. Heat wasn’t her cup of tea. Even after a month here she still wasn’t used to the temperature. She was Canadian after all, the cold was more her element. Even under the unforgiving sun, her eyes were glued to the viewfinder, her mind set on the scenery around her and the heat wasn’t even an afterthought.

Rosalie managed to get a couple decent shots of the girls in action that she ended up showing to Mapi and Patri who kept shouting something about who was the hottest one in Spanish.

Everytime her eye left the camera, The brunette could feel a piercing gaze stuck on her, the eyes belonging to none other than Barcelona’s captain. Even though she had caught her staring, Alexia’s hazel eyes wouldn’t stray. The French-Canadian would send a shy smile her way which would break her trance, and then the blond would simply go back to the game without acknowledging her even the slightest.. By the third time, Rosalie simply stopped acknowledging her and just focused on her work. If the blond didn’t bother to be polite, then she didn't have to be either.

After an hour outside, she finally decided that she had enough material and headed back to her office. She made a stop at Martina’s office to discuss which pictures would go in today’s post and ended up agreeing to go get coffee tomorrow morning before work. The rest of the afternoon was spent on editing the pictures she had taken and working on some more from the night before. She had had an idea during her little meeting with the media team. A project that would serve as a thank you for the never ending support of the Barça fans and she was really excited. This project would take up a lot of her schedule, but after only a month in Barcelona, she had seen how spirited and dedicated the fans were and she thought it was important for them to know that their club was infinitely thankful for them.

A knock on the door pulled her from her work and her eyes quickly shifted to the door.

“ It’s half past five, why are you still here?”

Keira was standing in her doorway, changed and bag in hand, ready to go home after a particularly demanding training day. She half thought that the younger brunette would be gone by now but she wasn’t surprised when she saw her still at her desk, ready glasses low on the bridge of her nose, completely focused on her computer screen.

“ I just want to finish these for tomorrow, it has to be perfect.” Her eyes strayed back to her computer but she could still hear the other woman walk around her desk and lean over her shoulder. A picture of Alexia standing on the sides lines, arms crossed and face scrunched up in a concentrated expression was currently in the process of being reframed and adjusted.

“These are good.”

“Thank you,” she scrolled on the lot to show her more, “ Everyone looks so happy, besides..”

“It’s normal, you won’t catch her smiling, especially these days” she said it so casually, Rosalie felt bad for the woman.

“Pressure?”

“Most likely” she said “ Come on, we’re coming over to your place tonight, you gotta prepare.”

“Says who?”

“ Your big sister, we know you’re far from unpacked. We’re coming to help.” She said, grabbing Rosalie’s bag on her way out.

“We’re bringing take out�� That was all it took to convince the Canadian to put away her laptop and follow the woman out of the training grounds.

She had not realized just how badly she needed a night like this. The last time she had spent the night goofing around with her best friend was almost a year ago during international break and she had missed her friends dearly ever since. As the brunette had predicted, the couple arrived shortly after her, still in their training kits, claiming that this was as much their apartment as Rosalie’s which meant that they had the right to shower here if they pleased. While Lucy was gone, Keira had set up the kitchen island as a table while Rosalie was busy rummaging through her boxes to find two additional plates and cutlery.

“ How long have you been here? A month? And you still have this many boxes lying around?”

“What can I say, all I really need is out and the rest could wait… indefinitely.” She ducked fast enough for the placemat to miss her head by an inch.

“ By the end of the night I’m telling you, you’ll be all set and you’ll owe us a round at the pub.”

By the end of the night, they had managed to take care of most of the boxes and made a list of what items were missing for this palace to become a real home. The couple ended up staying late, and would surely regret this at training the next day. It was truly like no time had passed since they had last seen each other. The evening was full of laughs and stories shared but the girls on their respective journeys since they had last been together. Rosalie would not admit it, but she truly needed a night like this. She felt so happy to finally be surrounded by her family, and the prospect of being able to see them a lot more often made this place feel like it could finally be somewhere she considers home.

The rest of the week was more or less the same. Rosalie started her days by going to get coffee with Mapi and Ingrid, who quickly became good friends, or Martina. She loved the woman’s constant smiling and contagious energy and quickly found out that the head of social media was the woman to go see if you wanted to know the latest gossip amongst the Barcelona team and staff members.

Friday was her last day of the week at the training center and was scheduled to be a very busy day. The morning would be filled with meetings and a presentation for the special fan project she had come up with. Then she had several shoots planned with the girls that would take place in her office. This alone would take the whole afternoon and Rosalie knew that when she would leave for the weekend, she would be exhausted. She knew that she would need all the energy she could get which is why she was currently on her way to the coffee shop with both Ingrid and Mapi by her side.

Upon entering the shop, the girls beside the photographer both stopped in their tracks and turned towards the counter. A tall blond woman was currently leaning with her back against the counter and her hands in her pockets. The shop was almost empty so the three girls entering made enough noise to pull Alexia out of her thoughts. She recognized easily the voice of the tattooed woman and the Norwegian but, the third voice sent chills down her back and the woman froze, keeping her eyes on the floor, half hoping that the trio would make their way to the register without noticing her. But of course, as if the universe was against her, her name was called by the barista.

“Alexia, chica, cómo estás?” Mapi made her way towards her captain, leaving the photographer and Ingrid at the counter.

“ Bien, ¿Por qué estás aquí tan temprano?” Usually on fridays, training started a little later, so the blond did not understand why the couple was here so early instead of relaxing at home like they usually did.

“ Ambos tenemos fisioterapia esta mañana, pensamos que tomaríamos un café con Rosalie antes de nuestras citas.”

“ Ah si, fisoterapia,” Eversince the photographer’s arrival in the small shop, the blond was hyper aware of everything happening around her. The sound, the wiring of the espresso machines, the sound of spoons hitting the rim of the cup, the shuffling of sneakers on the hardwood floors. When a delicate smell of coconut and argan oil came to her, she did not need to turn around to know that the reason for her nervousness was standing next to her.

The photographer was just as nervous as the footballer. All week she had seen the captain’s behavior change every time she would walk in a room or on the pitch. The captain would either avoid the brunette and stare from afar or simply leave the room she was in. At first, she thought it was simply because the woman was shy and needed time to warm up to new people, but that theory quickly fell once she had seen the taller woman interact with journalists and strangers. Now standing so close to the woman,the French-Canadian did not know if she should ignore her or try to engage with the mysterious woman.

Surprisingly, it was Alexia who made the first move. “ I heard you will have a big day today with the annual team shoot.”

“ Oh oui, it’s going to be a busy one I'm afraid, but I’m excited to work more closely with you all, I never get to see you guys outside of training settings so this should be fun!” She said, clearly excited to get to do a little studio work. The clear happiness on the smaller girl's face made the blond smile slightly.

“ I do not know if you will still be happy once you have a bunch of children running around in your office.”

“ Hey! We are not so bad.” Mapi said, hitting her friend on the shoulder.

“I love you darling but yes you are.” Ingrid had her arms crossed and was smiling fondly at her girlfriend who was pouting slightly.

Silence fell on the group as they watched a mother and her little girl entering the shop. Sensing that the atmosphere was starting to be a little awkward considering no one was going to talk, Ingrid decided to steer the conversation towards something she knew would appeal to everyone. “ Are you guys excited about the match next friday”

The team was playing Sevilla next Friday and this would be Rosalie’s first away game. She had a feeling they would ask her to join the team to see how it usually goes. As the head photographer, she would usually not have to make the trip every single time but shetought it was important that for the few next away games, she would come along and experience the whole ordeal herself.

“ Sevilla is always entertaining to play. Besides, we will get the whole day after the match to go around the city.” The blond responded. “ You will come with us, I heard.” She added turning slightly towards the brunette.

“ They haven’t told me anything yet but I can only assume that if they told you I was coming then it means I’ll be there.” At that, the blond catalonian let a small smile graze her lips. The sight made the photographer melt a little on the spot.

« Good, it will be a good game » an awkward silence fell on the little group.They were all waiting on Alexia to add something but the woman stayed silent, staring down at the smaller girl. From closer, the Canadian realized that in order to look Alexia in the eyes, she had to tilt her head up quite a bit. Combined to her intense gaze, the height difference made the blond Catalonian look even more intimidating which added to the Canadian’s inability to speak at the moment. Thankfully for both, Alexia’s name was called once again by the barista which allowed the smaller brunette to relax while the captain went to finally pick up her order. She quickly walked back to the small group and handed Rosalie a cup that smells exactly like her favourite coffee.

« te veré en el entrenamiento chicas » she said, quickly exiting the shop without sparing another glance towards the confused photographer.

« What did I do? »

« What do you mean? »

“She must hate me to act so weird when I’m around » She said as she took the coffee that she had ordered herself the counter, Ingrid trailing behind her, carrying her own order and Map’s since the woman had ran out after Alexia.

« She’s very closed off. It’s always been hard when newcomers arrive in the team. '' She said, while staring down at her feet. “ She did get you a cup of coffee so I don't think that she hates you.” She added. In her mind, it was clear that the Norwegian was keeping something from her just by the way she would not meet the photographer's eyes while talking.

“ Speaking of coffee, how did she know my favorite?”

“ Martina”

“ Mais quelle fouineuse celle-là”

“ What?”

“Oh nothing,”

When they arrived at the center, the Spanish women were near the entrance, deep in conversation. The rapid spanish rambling was completely lost on the French-Canadian who was starting to think about asking about those intensive lessons management had offered her. She made a mental note to ask later today and decided that she had had enough awkwardness for today and wanted to save the small amount of energy she had left from her first week to focus on the day ahead. She would thank the captain for the coffee when it would be her shoot in the afternoon.

Just like she had predicted, Rosalie’s day started at a hundred miles an hour with multiple meetings. One of them being an update on the fan project she was currently working on. She also met up with management about the game on wednesday and got the travel details. She would travel with the team and be seated with the girls on the plane and bus so she would be able to capture as much content as she could during the trip. She would be the only member of the photography team to go since the rest was working on a side project that involved the second team and youth club, so for the sleeping arrangements, she would most likely room with a random coach or therapist but nothing was sure yet. Being the only photographer on the trip meant that Rosalie would have twice as much work as usual which put her on edge a little but nonetheless, she was excited at the prospect of her first trip with her new team.

The meetings ended up taking up the whole morning and finished only when lunch started. The photographer still had to set up her office for the shootings and had to skip lunch in order to have everything ready for the first group. The day before, when she received the backgrounds management wanted her to use, she had almost laughed in front of them at how cheesy it looked. They were a dark navy blue with red and white stars all around. Someone who did not know Barça’s colour team would have probably thought this was an american themed photoshoot. The brunette had decided to lean into the cheesiness of the backgrounds and picked up some props that would go well with the vision she had in mind.

The first ones to arrive were Lucy, Keira, Mapi and Ingrid, which eased the Canadian's nerves a little. With the help of the people she knew best in this team, she was able to pinpoint what worked best and test out some poses she had thought of. Alexia had been right. As serious and focused these girls could be on a football pitch, whenever they were out of training settings, they turned into a bunch of children, which made the photographer laugh a lot, and their happiness and childish energy showed in the pictures.

Most of the girls were easy to work with, not being shy in front of the camera and understanding quickly the directions the brunette was giving them. But some, mostly the younger ones, weren't very familiar with all media related things and had a hard time relaxing. Rosalie prided herself in being able to charm these girls into forgetting they were in front of the camera by distracting them with music and making the shooting as casual as she could. Seeing the girls in smaller groups allowed her to get to know them a little better and when the last group came around, she was confident that these girls had accepted her in the Barcelona family.

The last group consisted of Irene, Fridolina, Marta, Panos and Alexia. Knowing the girls, this would be the calmer group and she wasn’t mad about it. She was definitely feeling the exhaustion of the day toppling over her and adding to the week’s worth of stress and overall tiredness. The brunette was ever grateful for her extra cup of coffee, which sat, cold and half empty on the corner of her desk. Unfortunately, the photographer would not get the chance to thank the captain just yet because the blond was not in the group that had just entered her studio.

“ Hola chica,” Sandra exclaimed, hugging the smaller brunette. “ Alexia will be running late, she is with the physiotherapist for her knee. I’ll be just the four of us for now.” The French-Canadian would be lying if she said she wasn’t all the more stressed at the prospect of having to have a solo photoshoot with the woman that rendered her a nervous mess, but she put the thought aside and got to work.

The girls ended up being the one that worked the quickest, being used to this sort of duties, but they were certainly not the ones who looked the most at ease in front of the camera. Irene in particular looked comically angry in certain shots where she was meant to look like she was celebrating a goal. Overall their shoot ended quickly, without Alexia ever showing up.

“ If you want, I can go see what is taking so long and fetch her for you,” Irene said, lingering in the door of the studio.

“ Oh no, don’t worry. I don’t want to press her, she can come to me when she’s done, I’ll still be here editing the photos till pretty late.”Answered the brunette who was already settling down at her desk.

“Alright as you wish. Thank you by the way, you’re really good at what you do, it was fun, for once.” The tall woman said before leaving. The statement put a smile on the brunette’s face before she put on some headphones and dived in the multitudes of shots taken during the afternoon. Whenever she works on editing, Rosalie usually completely loses track of time, being pulled into her own little bubble and forgetting the world around her. She was so focused that she did not even realize it was well past her usual work hours and supper was rolling around the corner. Hunger started to make itself known but the photographer was dead set on at least finishing first three groups before leaving for the weekend. Her shooting with Alexia had completely slipped her mind, which made the brunette even more confused when a polite cough pulled her from her work.

The Catalonian had been standing in the threshold of the photographer’s office for longer than would admit, but the way her reading glasses were placed low on her nose giving her a little secretary vibe, or the way the small brunette would scrunch up her nose whenever she wasn’t certain about a specific angle or even the smile smile that would stretch across her features whenever she would take in her work were simply too enticing for the blond. The only reason Alexia finally made her presence known was the bag containing the paella from her favorite place. Lucy had texted her that the brunette most likely would have forgotten to eat and the football player decided to get something for the photographer to thank her for her patience.

“Hola Rosalia,”

“ Alexia, hi!” The brunette said, taking her glasses off and getting up to greet the blond. “ How was the physio?”

“ Good, they said everything was stable,” Alexia had just recently been back on the squad after her knee had relapsed, so she had frequent visits to the physio’s office and was very careful during training and games.

“I’m glad to hear that,” As the photographer got closer to the blond, an amazing smell reached her nose and reminded her that her last meal had been breakfast. “ Did you bring food?”

The pure excitement emanating from the smaller woman was enough to break the nervousness that was clawing at the captain who smiled and finally stepped in the room to go put down the bags of food on the small coffee table in front of the couch. She pulled out a plastic container filled to the brim with fresh paella and motionned the woman to come sit next to her. “ I did not know what you liked so I brought you my favourite.”

The smell alone was enough to make Rosalie drool. She sat down and quickly picked up the plastic fork. The blond was looking at her, seemingly waiting for her to take a bite and tell her what she thought. The face and sound that came out of the photographer at the taste made the blond blush furiously which prompted her to turn around to try to hide her reddening cheeks. On the other hand, the other girl seemed completely unaware of what she had just done and simply kept eating the delicious food.

“ Are you not eating anything?” The brunette asked after a moment.

“No, no I will eat at home.” The truth is that Alexia had simply forgotten to order anything for herself, too worried about making the photographer wait any further. The brunette got up and reached in one of her drawers and pulled out a fork that she then offered to the blond.

“Here, we can share,”

“ No I got this for you, as a thank you for waiting so long.”

“You already got me coffee this morning, thank you by the way, I would not have survived my day without it.” She said smiling, “ Besides, I won’t be able to finish this on my own and it is too good to waste.”

The blond hesitated a moment and then reached for the second fork. They both ate in silence, too absorbed by the food to say anything. Once the plate was empty and the trash disposed of the girls drifted towards the studio part of the room and Alexia, who previously seemed relaxed enough, seemed to tense at the sight of the set up in front of her.

Rosalie, after a week of observing the team interaction had quickly realized that Alexia, even if she was a seasoned player that was no stranger to the camera, was still incredibly uncomfortable when she was the target of the lens. Seeing the way the captain went rigid when she reached for her camera, the photographer decided that her traditional distracting methods would not be the best way to go about in this particular case.

“ Would you mind grabbing the speaker for me please?”

“ Si,” While the blond was gone, Rosalie rapidly prepped her camera and left it on the side in order to adjust the lighting so it wouldn’t be as harsh for the eyes and wouldn’t blind the football player.

“ Here, you can go on Spotify and put on anything you like,” She said, handing the captain her phone.

“What do you usually listen to?”

“ Anything really, but I wanna know what you like, surprise me.” This made the blond relax a little as she searched for the songs she had in mind. As the photographer was finishing setting up the equipment, she created a small playlist with her favourite songs at the moment and hit shuffle. The first few notes from “Provenza” started playing and the photographer started to sway a little while trying to select the right lens. “ This is nice, very… Spanish.”

“ Wow, how perceptive of you,” The brunette laughed at the comment and turned towards the blond who was standing awkwardly next to the lights.

“ Can you tell me why you are so tense?”

“ I don’t like pictures.” The answer was short, delivered hastily, making the photographer almost regret asking in the first place, but she had a plan, and she was determined to get some answers out of the captain.

“ And what don’t you like about them?”

“It is not the pictures I guess, but the camera,” she said with a certain disgust, “ It’s always looking, it’s like you are never really alone, someone is always watching.”

“ It must be hard, not being able to go out without people pulling out their phones or cameras to catch a glimpse of you. I am sorry there are people who have so little respect for privacy.” The blond offered the photographer a small apologetic smile and took place in front of the background.

“ How do you want me,... I, I mean where,... Wait, what should I do,” Rosalie brushed off Alexia’s stammering, thinking it was just the nerves and stepped away from her little station.

“ We’re just talking now, you can relax,”

“ Si, thank you,”

“How’s the light, are you blinded at all, can you still see me?”

“ Si, it’s all ok,” the blond shuffled on her spot, “ Have you visited the city a bit since you moved?”

The brunette was slightly surprised by the blond’s curiosity but gladly answered, taking this as a sign that Alexia was slowly getting more comfortable with her.

“ Unfortunately not a lot, no, besides the streets around my apartment and the more touristy places, I haven’t seen much, I haven't even seen the beach yet.” A gasp almost made the woman drop her camera on the floor.

“ This is a crime. How could you not? You have to see the sunset, go take pictures, you'll see it’s beautiful.” The expression on the players face was too cute not to capture and the brunette took advantage of the moment to snap a picture of the awe displayed on the taller woman’s face.

“You’re gonna have to show me the good spots though.”

“Si si, Ingrid knows all of them, I can ask her to bring you..”

“ I didn’t ask Ingrid.” The captain instantly blushed at the comment and smiled big. A clic was heard and Alexia’s featured switch to indignation.

“You are distracting me!”

“ Guilty, I'm afraid, now cross your arms and spread out your stance a little bit for me please.” They stayed silent for a moment, the photographer trying different angles and Alexia holding the position she was currently in, harbouring a serious expression, as if ready to take on a whole team alone. Once the brunette lowered her camera Alexia decided to ask the question that had been on her mind since she had set foot in the studio

“ Why photography?”

#alexia putellas #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso community #alexia putellas x y/n #lucy bronze #keira walsh #ingrid engen #mapi leon #barcelona femeni #barca femeni #futfem

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chaoticshitstick · 3 months ago

Text

The Destiny of Life☆。*。☆。

Alice Cullen x Witchy! Reader (gender neutral!)

aka: A reader who uses tarot to read the future predicts their introduction to Alice, the future-seeing vampire.

(( Y/N means your name// L/N means last name ))

TW: Mentions of intense pain

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰ ───

It was a cold, rainy day in Forks, Washington. Then again, when is it not? It's almost as if the town thrives on this weather; the roads are always the slightest bit fuller.

That's because of the Cullens. Forks's very own recluse family. They never show their faces unless it's cloudy or downright pouring. Most of the people in Forks fall victim to the lies spouted by Carlisle Cullen, the group's father. Most, not all.

A simple being knows those as lies, but has no intention of bringing that to light. The lies or the Cullen's for that matter.

All that glitters is not gold; it might be a vampire.

You could assume this person is crazy. Most people do. Why shouldn't you assume they're crazy? A single soul, with no concrete proof, who doesn't believe the lies of the trips every time the sun leaks through the sky for more than a moment. This person, a self-proclaimed 'witch' among the masses, our very own (Y/N). They live life simply, going where the wind allows. The witch normally dons different shades of blue and purple velvet, with hints of black and metal tones.

And there they sit, alone at a study table in the empty school library. They sat straight, eyes closed, with a hand clutched atop a deck of cards. Not just any cards, a deck of moon phase tarot cards. It was rare to see (Y/N) without it. They do a reading for themselves every morning in the same place. This morning's draw was a strange one, to say the least.

The cards that (Y/N) practically bases their life around foretold them of an encounter. An encounter unlike any other, one that could change their life. At first, they didn't believe it. But, they had to. If the universe spoke through the cards as strongly and concise as that, it had to be true.

And true it was.

On the will of the universe, a very hurried and seemingly stressed girl bursts through the doors of the library. (Y/N)'s attention is pulled to the commotion immediately, and so is the librarian's, who ushers out a long, dragged out shush. The girl apologizes in a soft hurried voice, before speed-walking to a specifc shelf. The shelf that happened to be directly infront of (Y/N). They observe the girl for a moment, shes easily recongizable. The girl is one of the Cullen's. Alice Cullen to be exact. Students in the school tend to label her as the 'weird' Cullen.

Edward is dreamy and untouchable, Jasper is quiet and mysterious, Rosalie is pretty and snappy, Emmett is buff and a little airheaded, but Alice? She's the weird know-it-all. But, being weird is something (Y/N) knows all too well. They stand rather quietly as not to alarm the girl, but deep down, (Y/N) had a feeling she already knew what was coming.

With a few soft steps forward, (Y/N) clears their throat lightly to pull the girls attention off the shelf.

"Need help finding anything? I'm in here quite often, I'm sure I could help." they say bashfully, a weak smile on their face.

Alice is quick to shock, gasping a bit as she turns to face the person beside her. Her shock is just as quick to fade. Both parties eyes hold a glimmer of knowing; they both knew they were destined to meet, and neither of them seemed to wish to change that.

Alice sighs a bit and nods, "That'd be lovely, thank you," she says with an exasperated smile.

(Y/N) offers a more geniune smile as the girl describes what she's looking for. She needed help finding a book on deciphering symbols in dreams. Though, the girl hesitated saying dreams. The witch knew all too well what Alice needed, so a dry laugh left their lips.

"They don't have what you need here, but I may have something that can help." (Y/N) says with a wink, walking over to the table they had previously sat at. With a quick rummage through their black courdory tote bag, they return with a hard covered novel and slide it into Alice's hands. "No worries on how long you keep it, just make sure it's returned to me."

Alice's smile grows as the leather touches her hands, her eyes darting to the cover of the book. The title and author are hard to make out from wear of use, but it felt right. The girls eyes dart back up to the person in front of her. "Oh, thank you!" she says graciously, clutching the book tighter in her hands.

(Y/N) nods happily, their smile only growing. "Something in my intuition told me to bring it today, I'm glad I listened." They say cheerfully.

Alice lights up a bit as intuition is mentioned. It's not often people in Forks spoke like that, spoke like she did. Alice looks the person up and down, taking in their apperance, scent and belongings that sat on the table behind them. They smelt.. pure. A lot of the humans in the school outright stink. Not in a 'oh they need to shower' way, but in a 'your blood smells rotten' way. But this person smelt of sage and clean laundry, their blood as pure as the day they were born.

"I'm Alice, Alice Cullen." she hums with a hint of curiosity. She hesitates, but sticks her hand out for a handshake. Alice's skin was ice-cold, being a vampire and all, but for once, that didn't matter.

With an outwardly bright smile, (Y/N) wraps their hanfd around Alice's, not even flinching at the lack of heat in her skin. "I'm (Y/N) (L/N), it's a pleasure."

Alice lets out the smallest of breaths she didn't know she was holding. The class bell rings, and hoardes of students flood the halls. (Y/N) hums and smiles apolegetically, pulling their hand off of Alice's and returning to the table to collect their belongings.

"It was lovely meeting you, Alice, but I have to head out. Calculus isn't something I can afford to be late to, hope the book helps!" they exclaimed, throwing the strap of their bag over their shoulder and making towards the exit door. Alice just silently waves as they leave, a slightly awestruck look on her face.

☆。*。☆。

The following day arrives slowly, as if it was destined to never come. But that's stupid, so here we are, a day after Alice borrowed that book.

It was quite a big day. Alice had run back to her family right after the encounter, preaching off a person, a human, who shook her hand and didn't seem put off by the cold. Someone who seemed to share similar 'abilities' as her own. The Cullen's were apprehensive about Alice's interactions with this person. They're a human after all, and they can risk anything happening. Like word getting out the Cullen's are vampires, or, arguably worse, (Y/N) getting caught up and getting hurt because of them. Alice swore up and down that they'd be safe, and no word would get out. She even swore on behalf of her visions.

The Cullen's were still hesitant, but Esme urged them to be hopeful. Sweet Esme was always welcoming, and quite liked the idea of good relations with this mystery person Alice spoke of. The mothers grace was all the rest of the family needed to form a small bundle of trust for this person. All but Rosalie. She was put off by the idea of a human being so close to them.

Back in today's reality, Alice's eyes are darting around the lunch room, waiting to catch sight of the familiar face. Though, their scent hits first. Alice had described the scent in great detail to her siblings, so they all perked up a bit once it wafted in.

(Y/N) stood near the food lines, a single apple clutched in their hand. Alice is quick to smile, raising her hand to beckon them over. (Y/N) doesn't hesitate to smile back and walk to join the table. The Cullen's greeted her with kind faces, Rosalie's slightly forced and Alice's the most genuine. Though, the rest of their classmates were shell shocked. The Cullen's had never in the history of ever invited someone to sit with them, or even willingly spoke to someone outside their family. So when (Y/N) pulls out the chair next to Alice and sits down soft gasps echo through the cafeteria.

Alice urges her siblings to introduce themselves, which Edward does first. The introduction's move around the table. Rosalie hesitates a bit, but gives a smile when (Y/N) looks at her expectantly. Alice throws an arm over (Y/N)'s shoulder and takes the liberty of properly introducing them to her family. (Y/N)'s face reddens the slightest bit at the contact, but beams brightly as they're introduced.

Then and only then does Alice bring light to the book (Y/N) had leant her, a book that Alice had been searching for for years. Unbeknownst to them, Alice had a vision in the lot of the school a mere 10 minutes before they met. A vision that she'd finally find the book she'd been looking for. About the same time (Y/N) finished their tarot reading and was informed of a meeting that'd change their life. Alice's mention of the book brings shock to her siblings face, and curiousity to (Y/N)'s. Alice explains loosely, saying she had a vision what she had needed for a while was in the library.

Alice didn't expect this answer to bring them any clarity, but it did. A look of shock washes over (Y/N)'s face. They're quick to explain what happened to them, with the tarot reading. This brings shock to the entire table. A human, so connected with the universe, they willed a power similar to Alice's into existance.

"Maybe they should stick around," Emmett chimes in, "It'll never hurt to have two va- people who can do the same thing."

Rosalie delivers a rather rough elbow to Emmett's side, causing him to stutter over his slip up. Though, (Y/N) doesn't notice, and if they did, they did a damn good job hiding it. They just nod enthusiastically at the idea of sticking around. It's a pretty unanimous decision, minus Rosalie, who hesitated before reluctantly agreeing.

☆。*。☆。

All in all, (Y/N) made a good addition to the Cullen's. Having a secondary source of visions put less stress on Alice, and gave a way to cement Alice's foggy visions. Something wasn't super clear to one of them? Ask the other for insight. The pair worked like a well oiled machine, and it was rare to find either without one another on school property. As the two grow closer, Carlisle offers the idea of turning (Y/N). The family was put off by this, never had Carlisle given the option unless the to-be-turned was in critical condition, or in other words, dying. And (Y/N) was not dying. Yet, Carlisle stood strong on his idea. They knew too much about the Cullen's to risk leaving out in the world, the turning was for (Y/N)'s protection, just as much as it was for the Cullen's.

Honestly, Alice liked the idea. She liked the idea of having someone like her, both in abilities and personality. The pair bounced off eachother like they were both made of rubber. They were, in truth, made for each other. The universe willed it. A set of twin flame destined to find the other and grow. They fed each others light with their own. You could call them soulmates, but some might argue vampires don't have a soul, that they're demonic undead creatures. But, you need a soul to feel, and Alice knew exactly how she felt. It was crystal clear.

She approached (Y/N) the following day to dine with her family, to which (Y/N) agreed happily.

There, the Cullen's properly revealed their secret. They were vampires, and had been for a while. Though, (Y/N) wasn't scared. They held no fear of the 'blood sucking monsters' that stood in front of them. They knew deep down the Cullen's weren't human. The Cullen's, albeit vampires, were the only 'people' to ever treat them as if they belonged. So once Carlisle sprung the question, they were quick to agree. (Y/N) had truly nothing to lose.

☆。*。☆。

It was a painful and arduous process. You have to be concious for the venom to work, and it hurt. It felt like poisoned lava was seeping through their veins. The following nights are filled with pained screams and broken sobs. They begin to die down on the third night, and by sunrise, a new (Y/N) emerges from the cellar.

It was clear they were in pain, but that didn't keep Alice from pouncing on them the second they returned. With a pained but happy groan, (Y/N) wraps an arm around Alice, squeezing her as tight as their weak muscles could.

The family, (Y/N)'s new family, was more welcoming as ever. Jasper volenteered to assist in the 'training' of their new vampire. The Cullen's are the vampire version of vegetarian, only living off animal blood, instead that of humans. New vampires always struggle with this process. Jasper had just begun to finish his own training, so he was more than welcome to help. As was Alice, she had no plans to leave (Y/N)'s side from then on.

And she did just that. Not once was Alice seen without (Y/N) at her side. Especially since they started living with the Cullens.

It seemed as though the two were truly destined to meet, and the universe made sure they did.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰ ───

#twilight #the twilight saga #alice cullen #alice cullen x reader #x reader #canon x reader

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an-indecisive-nerd · 4 months ago

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Introduction 2.0 (now with extra... something!)

I decided to make it a whole new post instead of editing the old one (yay new beginnings) partially because it's easier and partially so I could still have the old one so I remember what I said.

Anywhosies, let's get right into it shall we?

About Me!

Deadass forgot to introduce myself in my old intro, so let's do that this time.

My name is Madelyn, but most people on here call me Ain. I answer to either, so take your pick.

As my blog name suggests, I am a huge nerd. I've been writing since I was a youngster, and I assume/hope I'll be writing till the day I die. (When I say writing I do mean fantasizing about my characters and procrastinating doing any actual work.)

I mainly write fantasy or fantasy-esque stuff, usually with a splash of sci-fi and sometimes other stuff.

I have way too many ideas and 0 finished products, so without further ado, let's introduce the gang (wips) shall we? (Official masterposts linked in the titles)

What's Your Story

What's Your Story is the project I'm currently working on. It's a fantasy/sci-fi series that explores how people's stories are interconnected, how actions have consequences, and how everyone's lives weave together to create the history of the universe.

The first book primarily follows Melantha Tollemache, a sickly young girl who cheats death with the help of a mysterious entity, and now has to learn not only how to use these powers, but why she's been given them. The story watches her grow and her world expand as she tries to find her place in it. All while the threat of cosmic war looms...

Appearances Are Deceiving

Appearances Are Deceiving is a high fantasy/political intrigue adventure, here's the introduction to it:

Kairna and Taren are twin siblings, and the top students of the prestigious Hornfel Academy, the best school in the world. However, with a new and rather strange Director recently being put in charge, the school's reputation may well be on the line. Without the protection of the school, things will go south for the twins fast, but something about the new director seems... off. Whose side are they on?

We All Lie Amongst The Thorns

We All Lie Amongst The Thorns is a dark fairy tale retelling.

The story centres around Rosalie, a young woman who lives in the woods with her adopted mother. She knows she was abandoned by her parents, but her mother won't tell her why or who they are. She eventually decides to try and find out what happened for herself, leading her to be on her own for the first time, putting her at the mercy of the world her mother once protected her from.

Nearly Parallel Lives

Nearly Parallel Lives is a eclectic mix of genres blending together into a self indulgent fever dream.

Strange occurrences have been happening all over the world. Odd, seemingly unconnected events centred around people who have never met. But invisible threads are pulling these people together, as they struggle to figure out why they've been chosen for this unexpected adventure. Or were they chosen at all? Maybe it's all a coincidence. FIND OUT NEXT TIME ON- (shut up)

The Enchanted Forests

Fun little fantasy project inspired by Howl's Moving Castle and a weird dream I had.

The population is expanding, and the cities are expanding with it. They're beginning to encroach on the Enchanted Forests, sacred forests that previously humans never dared touch, and the forests protector, the sorceress Arcana is not having it. But when the media paints her as the villain and all the other sorcerers have long since gone into hiding, fighting against human expansion is becoming an increasingly daunting task, and at this rate the forests are going to be cut down despite her best efforts. Arcana needs allies, more sorcerers to join her cause. And with everyone else in hiding, it looks like she's just going to have to train them herself.

Survival is a Team Sport

Apocalytic sci-fi thing!

It started out as any normal day. Then the world ended. 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 chaos that has descended upon the world. Things like murderous bunny rabbits (Jasper and Zac, the only ones who watched Monty Python and the Holy Grail, were terrified), fog that makes you forget your name, and the sky randomly falling are all things these kids have to contend with as they try to find their families if they're still alive, and find out what caused this apocalypse.

Like A Movie

This is a romantic tragedy, also this is the only story I've introduced that doesn't have any fantasy elements in it.

The truth is, Lucian would love to "find someone", as everyone tells him he's supposed to someday. These girls seem very nice, but none of them really interest him, no matter how much they seem to like him. Does that mean he's a bad person? He's not sure, but one night after a particularly awkward date, he wanders into his favourite bar and encounters someone he's never met before. Usually Lucian's not one for socializing, but his name is Caspian and he's got the brightest smile, the most infectious laugh, and no one's ever prepared Lucian for this.

Twisted Inspirations

Woo! This one's new and different. I have no idea what genre you'd call it, but oh well.

The thoughts of a strange and reclusive young woman are written down for all to see. Follow her through her journey as she desperately searches for inspiration and keep her company. Something about this story is odd though. Different versions seem to be happening at once. Which one is real?

This story is actively being posted on my sideblog @the-muse-of-chaos so if you're interested, check it out! It's pretty dark, so tw for mentions of sh and drug abuse and the like.

And I think that's all for now! I'm putting the tag list under here, sorry if you've already seen my old one, but this is just where I keep my tag list for convenience.

@pheonix358 @unforgettable-sensations @littleladymab @megamijadeheart @my-bright-legacy

@ominous-faechild @thecomfywriter @wyked-ao3 @anamelessfacelessnerd @differentnighttale

@mysticstarlightduck @the-letterbox-archives @leahnardo-da-veggie @paeliae-occasionally @tr4sh-p4nd4-404

@oliolioxenfreewrites @aalinaaaaaa @sm-writes-chaos @seastarblue @corinneglass

#writeblr #writing #my writing #writers #intro post

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beevean · 6 days ago

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BEEVAN I AM READING THE CURSE OF DARKNESS MANGA OMFG. WE WERE ROBBED. we were absolutely and utterly robbed. [SPOILERS FOR CURSE OF DARKNESS MANGA AHEAD]

Hector's introduction being him chopping up a werewolf as if it's nothing?? and the dialogue about how he used to think power is everything? Him asking Ted if he's willing to wield that sin to save Rosaly's life— THAT WAS SO COOL. Him saying he'll leave and this place will be safe, because his power can't be used to help humans nor devils.

AND HIS PAST??? MY. FUCKIN. GOD. THE DEMONS SAYING “look. that's why we helped you. don't worry, don't worry. You have a place to go. A place where you can belong. Now then! Right now, you can make it. Let's go home... home... to our castle!" [cut to me crying screaming throwing up] HIM CALLING FOR DRACULA?? “I don't want to kill anyone. The reason I wanted power, even if I was not destined to live under the light— even so, I—" him crying :(( "it's because I'm human too." ABSOLUTE. FUCKING. CINEMA.

his fight with isaac im tweaking. “i am human. I sought this power so that I could remain human, not for anyone's sake! for me! for myself!!” IM SCREAMINNGGGGGGGG “not to be the pawn in some ridiculous plot for revenge!”

THE CURSE FALLING ONTO THEM NOOOOOO :((((( that was such a good scene

THE PEOPLE BEING SO KIND TO HIM, HIM LOOKING LOST OH MY BOY I JUST WANT TO GIVE HIM A HUG RAAAAAGHHH "I just think humans are strong.” to be replied with Rosaly's “what do you mean, Hector? You're human too” :(((( I LOVE THEM

ROSALY COMFORTING HIM ASKING IF HE CAN HEAR HER VOICE MY GODDDDDD IM GOING TO CRY!!! THE DEMONS SPEAKING TO HIM, BEING PORTRAYED AS SUCH SCARY BEINGS THAT WON'T LEAVE HIM ALONE.

Him screaming her name, calling out for her as she burns in the pyre for false accusations. i am SICK and im NOT OKAY (im kidding but i actually enjoyed the reading so much).

now i have even more contempt for what the netflixvania writers did to the CoD plot in general. even in this reading i could have an entirely different grasp about isaac's character — AND HOLY MOLY HELL, they fucked it up for nothing :(

thank you sososososooooo much for recommending me the manga i loved it so muchhhh

— 🌻.

LET'S GOOOOOOOOOOOOO LOVE FOR THE COD MANGA 🥰🥰🥰

I have it in Japanese! On my shelf! Best Christmas/birthday present ever! I retranslated both volumes because the official translation has a few mistakes, some of which are noticeable (Ted calling Rosaly his sister when he meant "Rosaly-nee-chan" as a sign of respect for an older girl, or Isaac greeting Hector with "I've been wanting to see you" instead of a more natural "I missed you". or the censoring of isaac's lackeys shipping hector and drac--)

It's really good. Prelude to Revenge is much more dense, complex and poetic, and most assuredly it's closer to the canon vision of the characters (such as Isaac being portrayed as a more noble man before descending into madness; in this manga he was a prick since he was a kid lmao), but I have a soft spot for this one, and how it portrays Hector as a more selfish person who has to grow out of his self-serving mentality, and Rosaly as a girl who is looked down on for being "too nice" but is so undeterred in her optimism and kindness that even Hector is a little weirded out. It's small things like her refusing to ask questions, and being content to know that Hector "has silver hair, was injured, never did laundry in his life, and saved Ted and I" that makes her so charming to me :)

Hector's arc here is brilliant. The way he refuses to save Rosaly at first because he's so ashamed of his power and to sin once more, but using his power for good for the first time. The way he tries to get away from her, only to be found again, because he will be loved and he has no choice lol. (also may I point out how he thinks about his dead Lord as he's dying, the obvious parallels between Dracula and Rosaly, and this detail my friend found :)). The way he at first stands in the shadow, but is pulled to the light, and accepts to help Rosaly with simple human matters despite him being so sheltered and stunted he can't do it. The way he keeps helping her, long after he owes her anything. The way he timidly starts to accept that he's human too (best character is Melissa who is clearly crushing on Hector and calls him a prince, girl has excellent taste). His whole breakdown where he sobs that he's afraid that he's going to lose this last shred of happiness just like he lost both of his homes because he can't believe something so good is happening to him and he doesn't deserve it. The way he makes peace with Dracula's memory before moving on. I just. it's so good. i love him. show isaac tried to steal hector's arc but he missed some pieces along the way, like feeling bad for his sins

... and then Isaac fucks it all up :)))))))))

And I'm not kidding, the first time my friend and I trudged through the show, we coped with the Hector torture porn by constantly spamming the "I chose this power for me! For myself!" speech because it hits as hard as Hector's canonical war hammer <3

This is, as we call it, king shit 👑 I love love love how Hector's self-centeredness is portrayed as a positive thing in this context. Hell yeah recognize your own self worth!!!!! You can learn compassion with Rosaly <3

Funny that you mention the show in relation to the manga, though. Because it so happened that Hector's childhood was written in his wiki page: I say this because they barely wrote anything for Isaac, and so the show changed everything about him and didn't even bother to include his poor sister. Therefore, Hector's introduction in the show does feature a... """flashback""" where he hears his parents insult him and abuse him in the same way they do in the manga: mother who regrets giving birth to him, father who is a greedy alchemist, the whole hating Hector's pets thing (although in different contests), and ofc the fact that they died in a fire. I even genuinely appreciate how in the show it was Hector who personally killed his own parents, and I believe it makes more sense for the game/manga version, who grew up to be colder and eager to punish, than the fawning show version.

It's even echoed in this frame in S3:

To me it reads obviously as the reminder that, despite Hector's softness and weakmindedness, he still was able to inflict violence to those who hurt him, like his family. Which implies to me that at some point they did plan to reconcile the two Hectors.

Yeah, about that.

It's what I said in other posts. While still a gigachad able to easily dispose of a werewolf like it ain't no thing, manga Hector is a much more compellingly-written victim of abuse to me. You can tell that, under his guarded demeanor, he's scared of the world (it took him three years to visit the town, and only did so to look for Rosaly...), he's self-conscious to be compared to a child, he doesn't love easily but when he does he'll give the world to you.

And, of course, I have a severe bone to pick with the show for including elements like Hector's parents or his affiliation with animals, but completely missing that the point of the character is that he, by himself, realized that Dracula was going too far, and chose to run away. (and may I say that taking advantage of his Lord's favoritism by taking the mission and running away before someone could get suspicious was a really smart move <3 he's smart! He's emotionally vulnerable but intelligent!). Of course, they could have taken the long route in the next seasons, but instead the car crashed into a Lenore-shaped tree and all. Oh well.

Ah, but there are so many things to gush about! Even the way Dracula can shush Isaac into submission the moment the poor man dares to express his worries for his Lord, because you do not accidentally insult the Dark Lord. Or Isaac's juicy hypocrisy in killing his own underlings to be free to kill Hector, which was not what Dracula ordered him, and then still musing to himself that he's his Lord's most faithful servant, as if he wrapped his identity around being Dracula's most devoted tool. He's so deliciously hateable in this manga <3 (keyword: deliciously. Not irritatingly. I still sympathize with Isaac and how much Hector ruined his life. my man got dealt a bad hand in life and his point as a character, which was also missed by the show for multiple reasons, was that he couldn't rise above his grief and bitterness.)

I really wish they didn't cancel it. Apparently it was going to have a third volume focusing on Trevor and what he was up to before the events of the game, but it didn't sell well, so. But ngl, ending it on Hector's anguished face while Rosaly burns sure motivates you to buy the game to kick Isaac's flat ass :')

oh and may i mention that the manga features a succubus molesting a teen isaac and she's portrayed as gross and deserving to be stabbed in the boobs. just sayin', you know.

ahhhhh I'm so happy that you liked it! There's a lot to dissect about both CoD prequels! I urge you to find a fan translation of Prelude to Revenge, because it's just as good if not better! They give so much dimension to Hector and Isaac and it's why they're my favorite characters in the series and I do my best in spreading the love <3

#castlevania #akumajou dracula #curse of darkness manga #hector castlevania #i don't mean this in a bad way but i laughed a bit that you warned for spoilers #you're very considerate but it's a prequel for a 20 yo game don't worry :p

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k-evans-reads · 8 months ago

Text

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 · 1 year 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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sodascherrycola · 9 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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cinnamonxkisses · 2 months ago

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Introduction post and room tour🧁

Hello and welcome to my blog💕Here’s a little introduction: My name is Rosalie and I am Polish. I have 3 cats and I love music art and creativity! My fav colors are pale pink, baby blue and burgundy🍒 My hobbies are drawing, girlblogging and listening to Lana del Rey😍 I also listen to the Neighbourhood, Billie Eilish. My favorite shows are Gossip Girl, Gilmore Girls, H2O and House Md (ik a lot). I love coquette and downtown aesthetics and also a bit of a gloomy coquette. I don’t really have more ideas of what I can say about me, so that’s it and also as you can see above are some pictures of my room that i think well expresses my style. Thanks for your attention and stay tuned for new posts💕🧁

#lana del rey #music #nature #art #coquette #morute #downtown girl #billie eilish #the neighbourhood #aesthetic #cinnamon girl #pink #cute #pinterest #room tour #introduction #poland

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nesiacha · 11 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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