not all monsters do monstrous things

[renessie-deactivated20210321]

ROSALIE HALE.   @rosalie–hxle​

She was entirely confident that the people in her life that she relied upon for everything – guidance, information about the world, about herself, and wisdom – were mostly just making things up as they all went along. There was no book or manual on how to raise, socialize, and prepare a human-vampire hybrid for the real world – she’d checked. And regular parenting books didn’t cut it. Normal kids started school at age three or four. By then, she was reading A Midsummer Night’s Dream and trying to understand what it was about the eighties that made them think piano synths were a good idea. Most seven year olds were practicing basic times tables while she was tiring of mutli-variable calculus. She was ill prepared for an immortal life when she moved at this pace, tearing through the history of the world and its collective knowledge at a speed never before seen by anyone with a heartbeat.

And she had no idea what to do with the rest of her time.

She walked through the house lazily, carrying the large globe that usually sat in the corner of the library. She would spin it, then spin herself on her toes, and wait for friction to kick in and slow the world down. Coming upon her aunt, a smile bloomed across her lips and she lightly tossed the globe through the air, and its stand, for Rosalie to catch. “Pick a place, any place. I’m in the mood to run away with the wind.”

[rosalie--hxle]

Over the last 18 years, Rosalie Hale had never been so happy and so miserable in her entire life. Being so close to the thing she’d always wanted, actually getting to raise a child that would age, grow, develop; and yet here she was, a lousy, stupid degree of separation away. The Aunt. The secondary source of comfort, of wisdom, of affection. Lesser than, not enough. Near enough to her dream that she could wrap her slender fingers around it and hold it in her arms from time to time, but always with the painful knowledge that it wasn’t hers to keep. Rosalie knew her little Ness would never color her world in such black and white shades, that her niece existed in a beautiful landscape of all shades of grey, but ... Rosalie didn’t. Never had, that was part of her problem. Things were either right or wrong, good or bad, beautiful or ugly in Rose’s world. Her love for her niece? Beautiful. Her jealousy and grief over never getting to have anything closer than that? Ugly. 

Catching the globe effortlessly in her hands, Rosalie studied it. Remembering all the countries she’d been to, glaring at the ones that were too dangerous to ever attempt. Smiling fondly at the homelands of those who had once rushed to Nessie’s aid, willing to fight the Vulturi to keep this darling girl safe from harm. “Running away, are we?” Rosalie repeated with a skeptically arched eyebrow, glancing back at her niece. “Not running from anything in particular, I hope? Or anyone?” she asked pointedly, her beautifully manicured fingernail punctuating her point by spearing the globe through the center of Portugal as if it were no stronger than a thin balloon. 

[bcbymaria]

@rosalie–hxle

Feet stalked heavier than usual toward the living room, eyes caught somewhere between disapproval and rage. Without bothering to walk in front of her fabric crumpled beneath his fist was flung at her back. The blonde had to know what was coming for her. This hadn’t been the first time Rosalie and Edward had disagreements about Renesmee, and where she fell on the spectrum of maturity and age. 

It wasn’t a black and white argument. Development wasn’t as easily tracked or pinpointed on the child, which is what Edward still considered her. She grew faster than anything anyone had seen before and was smarter than most grad students at the tender age of 7. But still, despite these things she carried a doe eyed innocents about her that allowed Edward to cling to the child he still expected her to be - still wanted her to be. 

“Return it.” He growled, eyes narrowing as he prepared for the challenge that was sure to come. 

[rosalie--hxle]

Rosalie felt the garment hit her back and knew right away what it was. She didn’t even need the assistance of Edward’s presence or his attempt at an intimidating tone for context - the way the fabric felt on contact, the way it rippled down her spine as it fell and pooled around her high heels on the floor. It had to be the silk dress she’d placed in Renesmee’s closet - the one with the slightly too low neckline but a color that would compliment the young girl’s complexion perfectly. The one that clung to your curves and accentuated your edges. A real lady’s dress, something that might not be Nessie’s natural style but was at least appropriate to the age she now appeared. An appearance her father was clearly intent on denying.

Sighing heavily, Rosalie took her sweet time to turn around and face her adoptive brother. Turning any faster would’ve given the false impression that she even gave a shit about this latest temper tantrum, that she believed this argument worth her time. With one perfect eyebrow arched, she looked as if she found the whole thing rather amusing. As if her brother’s anger, his opinion on how Renesmee was to be treated now that she was full grown, was amusing to her. “A century has passed and you still don’t realize that not everyone can read minds like you. You can’t just come in here barking orders without explaining what they mean.” she commented breezily, sizing her brother up as she demurely sank down onto the nearby couch. Purposefully using the wolfish word to fan the flames of Edward’s already flaring anger.

“Return what, exactly?” 

[untamed-force]

[simplygossipgirl]