Hey, just wondering if you’d ever consider running “Jalice Week” again? Or if it’s something you’re not really interested in anymore?
not so much interest but time, you know? i've been super busy writing a vampire novel myself and i haven't had the time to be around the fandom. but if anyone wanted to run it, i can grant access to the jalice network tumblr sideblog, templates and give the direction on what i did to run it! ♡
In a land ravaged by disease and famine, disgraced ex-knight Jasper accepts a job transporting a mysterious caged girl to stand trial for witchcraft. But is she what they say, or is she something else entirely? Plagued by suspicion and haunted by doubt, Jasper soon finds himself in the crosshairs of the sinister forces that hunt her.
on ao3 | on ff.net
rating: m
warnings: death, graphic violence, blood, weapons, disease, drowning, starvation, harm to children, stockholm syndrome (see chapter notes for more specific content warnings)
status: ongoing
originally written for Jalice Week 2021, Day 1: Road Trip
For Ao3: add it to the public collection /JaliceWeekFeb21
*You may also tag our tumblr blog @jalicenetwork to make sure it will get reblogged here, to the event page.
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Is... is this what organisation feels like? Having a fic ready to post?
Kayla wanted more Divorce Jalice, which I haven’t posted outside of Discord yet, but this is basically a snapshot of their reconciliation.
he.
I saw you for the first time when we were seventeen and, Alice, I fell in love with you first sight. God, I was a goner who made a complete fool of himself trying to impress you and, despite my very best efforts, somehow you felt the same way.
It takes him the best part of the week to write the letter.
He struggles to find the words he wants to say. It feels a little dangerous, even writing the letter - she made herself clear when she moved in, that she didn’t want to remarry him. That it had taken months of negotiations for Alice to even agree to move in. And then there had been the long debate about her paying her share, even though her freelancing was successful and she was rarely at a loss for work, every trip to the ER left her exhausted for days. She didn’t make a salary, didn’t have any benefits… it just wasn’t reasonable or even expected for her to cover exactly half of the household expenses plus her own - he knew how much she loathed taking money from her family, but had made peace with it when she had no other choice.
And they had been had reached a good place, together. He’d argue it was better now than it had been when they were younger - there was so much laughter, so much conversation, and there was never a night when he didn’t look at her, curled up asleep in his arms, when he didn’t thank every power on earth that he’d been given another chance with Alice.
This… this was something else entirely. This was putting his entire heart in her hands, and risking losing her entirely. He knew Alice, better than he had before, and he knew that if she wasn’t at least a tiny bit open to this, she’d just move out again. Give them both ‘space’.
So, he writes the letter over and over again until it’s as good as it’s going to get. Then he writes it again because he’s smeared the ink.
But finally, it’s done, and he keeps it in his bag - like a ticking bomb. He goes home, they have dinner together and go to bed early to make love and watch the end of a movie. He sleeps with her in his arms, and he tries not to think that if this all goes wrong, this will be it - the very last time. That she’ll be gone again, like a ghost, and he already knows how wrong that will feel.
He leaves her sleeping the next morning, with a kiss to her temple. He walks across the road to the bodega for the good bagels and a bunch of flowers. He leaves them in the kitchen, and props up the letter in front of the vase.
And then he pulls the rings out. The fine, etched wedding ring, and the sapphire engagement ring. The initials and dates are engraved in the inside of both rings, three sets of Whitlock grooms and brides. He’d felt like a failure when he’d taken them back, had broken a link in an unbreakable chain. They were always destined to be passed to one of Rosalie’s children, but freely given, maybe even bequeathed. Never across a conference table, in front of lawyers.
Never as an act of pity and kindness when he had been buzzing from whatever cocktail of pills and alcohol he’d chased with an espresso before he signed away any legal or emotional connection to Alice.
Fuck, he was still ashamed and guilty. He still hated himself, especially now he knew the entire story.
He stares at the rings in his hand and hopes. That’s all he has left. Hope. And then he tucks them into the envelope.
It’s done. Whatever happens next, it is what it is.
she.
I have struggled with how close I came to losing you forever, and I think I always will. I need you to know that you are, and have always been, the best and most precious thing to me.
It’s a normal morning when she wakes up. Jasper leaves the curtains drawn these days, leaves her to sleep the morning away, if that’s what she needs. There have been a few little set-backs with her health over the last few years, but mostly she’s good.
No, not good. Better than good. Happy, content, loved. It’s more than she ever hoped for, in those dark days between one failed surgery and the next; when she and her surgeons had to debate the benefits of more surgery versus a full transplant, and she was alone with no one to lean on, no hand to hold.
Looking back, she wants to comfort her past self, let her know that better days are coming, that Jasper will come back to her - and her Jasper, not the man she divorced - and she’ll be okay. That every empty hospital room, every nurse that pitied her lack of flowers, and family and friends clustered around her bedside as she waited for the doctors’ verdict, her chest stitched and stapled and swathed in bandages, is just another step closer to things being wonderful again. That she and Jasper are both better people, better friends, better partners and lovers for everything that happened.
She gets out of bed, and heads towards the bathroom - detouring into her bedroom to retrieve clothes. She’s got a half-done piece on her desk, one that needs to be finished and shipped to her client in the next week or so.
After her shower, she locates her phone. The lock-screen is a photo of her and Jasper, the weekend he dragged her to California for some conference. They’re sprawled out on a sun-lounger together, grinning at the camera. It’s her favourite photo of him, of them. She can see his tattoos snaking around his side, his arm, his shoulder, and his neck; his hair is pulled back in a ridiculous ponytail she finds impossibly sexy, and the smile on his face is pure, unadulterated happiness. She’s tucked into his side in the silly (he called them ‘hot’ and ‘adorable’) heart-shaped sunglasses he’d bought her when she forgot hers. She’s got her hands clasped against her chest, her head nestled against his, and she’s smiling too. She remembers being so nervous about wearing a bikini for the first time, with her scars, but he’d convinced her, and they’d had a great day. A few people stared, but that was normal.
That had been the week he’d started wearing his wedding ring again, and when she’d asked, he’d dismissed it by saying he was tired of people hitting on him, even after he told them he wasn’t interested - and at the conference, with alcohol and the beach, it would be more annoying.
She’d let him think she believed that excuse and let it go.
It’s after eleven, and there’s no messages from him. Usually when she gets up, there’s at least three or four - maybe a photo of good coffee art if he stops by his usual place; a link to a restaurant or a movie he thinks they’d enjoy; or maybe an article that will make her laugh. And always a ‘good morning beautiful’ just before lunchtime.
Not today, not yet. Not so much as a dirty emoji message as a joke. There’s one from Rosalie (lunch on Friday), one from a prospective client, and one from Esme (family lunch on Sunday, can she and Jasper bring a dessert).
She frowns as she slips into the kitchen, and her gaze falls on the flowers - a mess of bright yellows and blues and pinks and purples. They’re beautiful and unnecessary and she’s already reaching for her phone again when she sees the letter propped up against it.
And for a second, she thinks her heart stops.
they.
I know you didn’t buy whatever I told you about me wearing my ring again. Because it was never about anyone else. It’s about you and me, and my commitment to you - my promise that as long as you’ll have me, I’ll be here. And that’s why I want you to have these back - because they have always been yours.
He walks home the long way. Home, in that moment, feels like a trap. Until he gets there, slides the key into the lock, he still has a partner, a girlfriend, a quasi-wife who told him so damn clearly that she didn’t want more than what they had.
(He knows it all now. The depth of the hurt, the pain. Pondering if she should have just cancelled the surgery and died quietly in the bed next to him whilst he drank and got high and fucked around behind her back. The days she spent in a hospital bed, alone and forgotten whilst he sat in a hard plastic chair in a church basement and admitted he had a problem. The long nights in the ER, holding her breath that it was just a false alarm, and nothing to worry about. Couples therapy had been as damning as it had been cleansing, and he carries her lost years with him everywhere, reminding him to be better, reminding him of how close it all came to being unfixable. He understands why she shies away from remarrying him when their marriage was always tangled up in so much hurt, but it doesn’t stop him from wanting more, wanting the most she can give.)
She’s in the kitchen, cooking dinner, when he walks in the door. That has to be a good sign. The apartment is warm and cosy, and it feels more like a home than anywhere he’s ever lived. He doesn’t want that to change.
Clutching his peace offering - a raspberry cake from the place a few blocks away - he walks into the kitchen.
She’s always the most beautiful woman in the room, in the world, to him and that’s no different tonight. There are no words for her, flitting around the kitchen like she knows what she’s doing, the curl of her hair against her cheek, the way she bites her lip as she checks something on the stove.
The way she brushes her hair out of her face with a hand that is wearing a fine, etched wedding ring, and a sapphire engagement ring that has their initials and wedding year engraved on the inside, and his heart definitely freezes in his chest and she’s wearing them again and that’s not something he let himself hope for. He prepared himself for the very worst and he’s found the very best and he doesn’t know what to say.
She meets his gaze with that warm smile, the one that is a little secretive and knowing that she only ever offers to him, and he holds out the cake like an offering and as she takes it, her eyes lighting up, he moves around the island to scoop her into his arms and kiss her. She squeals and somehow manages to put the cake down before she throws her arms around his neck, and he can feel her smiling against his lips.
He kisses her like it’s the very last time he’ll ever kiss her, like he’s trying to prove something. And maybe he is. Maybe he’s always going to be making up the past to her, like he can erase the hurt, the pain, the suffering. But they don’t have a time machine, and she’s long since made peace with everything that happened. Addiction is an illness, like everything else, but one that never truly goes away. The same way her heart will always been a little bit broken, he will also have that struggle. Maybe some day it will win again; there will probably be days when he does fall, just as long as there are more days he doesn’t. And that’s okay - she didn’t fall in love with him expecting him to be perfect. And the more she thinks about it, reflects on the apologies and the things he’s told her about everything that happened, she knows he never intended to hurt her.
Jasper’s been the centre of her universe since they were seventeen, since he looked across a classroom at her like he was starstruck and then grinned, that same grin he’s wearing now like he’s won an unwinnable prize. As if she could have resisted him, back then and right now.
That everything she is to him, he is to her.
He pulls back to look her in the eyes, to take her hand wearing the rings and to kiss it. She kisses him again hard and that’s all he needs to hoist her over his shoulder, her squealing and laughing, and it’s the best sound in the world as he turns off the stove and the oven, and sweeps her off towards his room.
Towards their room, both of them giddy, drunk on each other, on the idea that they’re in the same place at the same time, happy, healthy, and whole. Together, forever (this time.)
There is nothing in the world I love or will even love a much as I love you.
A companion piece to my creation for the last Jalice week 'A Garden On My Skin.' I highly recommend reading that one first as this one may not make sense otherwise. It can be found here
In a world where for every scar you get a matching flower mark appears on your soulmate's body. Jasper Whitlock has spent his second life feeling hopeless until a rose vine shows up on his left shoulder blade.
After the near miss on Bella’s birthday, Jasper needs to spend some time away from the family. Alice isn’t about to let him leave on his own.
Written for Jaliceweek21 (@jalicenetwork) Day 1: Road Trip. Canon-ish.
Words: 2495
Pairing: Alice/Jasper
(Better late than never, I guess?)
Read on AO3 or under the cut.
The scent of her blood washed over him the moment he opened the door. Someone had tried to scrub the floor clean with bleach, but it didn’t hide the scent completely. Jasper’s muscles tightened as he stared at the spot where Bella had bled just hours before.
He wanted it.
He knew he shouldn’t. He knew it was a terrible thing to even think, but god her blood called to him, promising to quench the burning that had been in his throat for ages and ages. If Edward hadn’t been so fast, if Emmett hadn’t been so strong…
Alice pulled him along, interrupting his thoughts. They ran through the living room, to the kitchen, where the scent of blood wasn’t as prominent. But Bella had been around often. Too often. Before Edward started dating the human, his house had been a safe haven, a place where he could let his guard down, but now… He tried hunting as often as he could, but with the scent of human blood in the house it only reminded him of the thing he could no longer have.
The others were waiting for them. Carlisle and Esme sat next to each other at the large table. Rosalie stood behind them, arms crossed. Emmett leaned against the wall, for once not a hint of a smile on his face. Only Edward was missing. No one spoke, which made their concern all the more apparent. Jasper said the only thing he could think of to break the silence.
“I’m sorry.”
He wanted to add more, but he didn’t know what. He had taken every precaution he could think of and it hadn’t been enough. Admitting he simply wasn’t strong enough, expressing that he was still struggling, even now, with the scent of Bella’s blood polluted by bleach, was something he didn’t want to do. He might tell Alice, later, when his mind was no longer clouded, when the thirst was as good as sated and when everything was just a memory. But not now. Not in front of the others.
“It wasn’t your fault,” Rosalie said. She opened her mouth, ready to add something else, but closed it the moment Carlisle shook his head.
“It could have been any of us.” Esme whispered, her hurt cutting through Jasper like a knife. Although it was barely discussed, Esme struggled just as much as the others.
“But it wasn’t,” Jasper said. “It was me.” It was always him. For the past fifteen years every move, every accident, every close call had been his. However, as he felt Esme’s pain at just the thought of hurting Bella, Jasper was almost glad. He hated being the weakest link, but he rather he screwed up than Esme.
“It will get better,” Carlisle promised. “You’ve already grown so much. Don’t let this setback define you.”
Jasper nodded once, although he wasn’t quite sure he agreed. He had just stretched it to hunting every two weeks when Bella came along, but now he was hunting once or twice a week and he had still lunged himself at her over a mere paper cut. How could he admit that is control was getting worse instead of better?
Carlisle looked at Alice. “How’s Edward doing?”
Alice grimaced. “I’m not sure.” She closed her eyes for just a moment. “He’s undecided… He might want to leave, although -”
“Great,” Rosalie muttered through her teeth.
“He won’t be able to stay away for long anyways, whatever he decides.” Alice sounded more confident.
“We need to take precautions,” Carlisle said. “How can we make sure nothing like this happens again?”
Jasper wished he had ideas to share. But he had tried. He had tried hunting as often as he could. He had kept his distance. Every time the thirst became too much, he had held his breath and left. There was nothing he could do except leave. He hadn’t wanted to do that to Alice and now he had made everything worse. He should have talked to her. He should have talked to Carlisle.
“We’ll just have to hunt more often,” Esme offered.
“And keep Bella away from presents,” Emmett added with a sly grin. Rosalie rolled her eyes but was incapable of hiding her amusement from Jasper. The feeling only lasted a second.
Jasper knew he would have to leave for a while. He couldn’t keep doing this. Even now, feeling his family’s worry, knowing how devastated Edward was, he couldn’t be sure he wouldn’t lunge himself at Bella the moment she walked through the door. Every moment around her was dangerous and her scent was everywhere. She came to the house almost every day. She entered every single room. She sat in every car but Rosalie’s. Wherever he went, he was surrounded by her blood and if he didn’t leave soon, he would simply snap.
Maybe he could find Peter and Charlotte, travel with them for a while. They, at least, weren’t worried about his shaky control. He wouldn’t have humans around. He wouldn’t be tempted all the time. They could just travel around, catch up. And if he were to slip-up when traveling with them, there wouldn’t be any repercussions. Hell, it might even help him. Maybe, if he finally quenched his thirst for real, he wouldn’t have that much trouble with having Bella around for the next couple of months. It might be better for everyone. Peter and Charlotte wouldn’t mind hunting with him. It would hurt of course, it always did, but what were the emotions of one human compared to the horror of his family if he killed Bella? And his gift had gotten stronger over the years. He might be able to put the human to sleep, he might be able to take away any emotion before -
“Don’t you dare,” Alice hissed. Jasper flinched. He hadn’t realized how fixed his plans had gotten. Their eyes met for a moment. Alice’s distress disturbed him a great deal. What had she seen? Just the one human? Or more? If he had one – on purpose – would he be able to stop?
“What’s going on?” Emmett asked.
Alice didn’t reply. She kept staring at Jasper, still troubled. Jasper held his breath; the absence of Bella’s scent cleared his mind for just a moment. He tried to repeat the mantra he had been telling himself on and off for the last fifty years.
Human blood was not the solution.
It would only hurt Alice.
It would only disappoint his family.
It would only be more difficult to stop again.
Sorry, he tried to tell her. He hated that she didn’t just see the terrible things he did, but also all those things he could have done. He didn’t want to think of the distress he caused her tonight.
A tired smile appeared on her face. It’s okay, it seemed to say, I still love you.
“What’s going on?” Emmett repeated, patient as always.
“Nothing,” Alice said. She looked up at Jasper. “We might leave for a bit, travel around. It has been a while.”
“That isn’t necessary,” Esme said. “No one needs to leave. It has been going well for months. This was just a minor set-back.”
“A set-back that almost got Edward’s human killed,” Jasper muttered, sharper than he intended.
Esme flinched and Jasper regretted his harsh words immediately.
“You still seem on edge,” Carlisle observed. “When did you hunt last?”
“Last night,” Jasper admitted. He forced himself to continue. “I’ve been going twice a week, but no amount of hunting seems to help.”
“You’re struggling.” Carlisle said.
“Of course, he’s struggling.” Rosalie interrupted. “The whole place reeks of Edward’s little human. You can’t take a single breath without being assaulted by her scent.”
Jasper turned to her. Never in a million years would he have thought that Rosalie of all people – I-have-never-tasted-a-drop-of-human-blood-Rosalie – would be the first to understand his struggle.
“Yeah, I get it,” Emmett said. “I mean, I can still smell the blood.”
Esme nodded. “I can imagine it hasn’t been easy.”
“We will be back,” Alice assured them. “We just need a bit of time.”
“Just be back soon,” Esme said.
“Of course.”
“Take my car,” Emmett said. Jasper grimaced. It was a nice offer, but just this weekend Edward and Bella had used his car to go hiking.
Emmett was about to move – to grab his keys, Jasper presumed – but Rosalie shook her head. “Take mine,” she said. She tossed her car keys at Alice. Her eyes traveled to Jaspers fists, which were clenched at his sides. “Just bring it back in one piece.”
“I’ll let Alice drive,” Jasper assured her. “Thanks.”
She nodded.
“I’ll grab us a change of clothes,” Alice said. “Why don’t you wait by the car?”
She didn’t wait for a reply as she rushed towards the stairs.
Jasper looked at Carlisle. “We’ll be back soon.”
“I know,” Carlisle said. “You’ll be missed. Just know that we can help you.”
Jasper looked at the others and muttered a goodbye as he all but fled the house.
Once outside, Jasper took a deep breath, trying to get some clean air in his lungs, but he was still too close to the house. He walked quickly to the garage. Although Bella had barely been in there, he wasn’t eager to enter. He knew very well that even the slightest hint of Bella’s scent would be a huge temptation and there was no one to keep watch.
He wasn’t supposed to be this thirsty… Perhaps he should have hunted while he waited for Bella to leave, but the thought of animal blood had almost been nauseating. The taste of deer blood sounded about as appealing as human food at the moment. And with the scent of Bella’s blood so vivid in his mind, no amount of animal blood would quench his thirst. When the glass had cut her arm open, he had almost been able to taste it on his tongue.
“Ready?” Alice hurried towards him. She had changed clothes and held a small sports bag in her hand.
“Ready.”
Jasper opened the garage door. They got into the car and Alice tossed the sports bag behind her. She adjusted her seat. It was almost comical how much she had to shove forward. Emmett must have been the last one to drive.
Once the doors were closed, Jasper leaned back against the seat. He felt his shoulders relax. He closed his eyes, breathing in the clean air.
“Rosalie knew what she was doing,” Alice noted as she drove off.
Jasper didn’t reply. She was right, of course, the car helped tons. But while the burn in his throat lessened, his guilt grew. He had tried to kill Bella. It was bad enough that she was Edward’s girlfriend. But she was also Alice’s friend. Alice’s only friend. He opened his eyes.
“Did you see it?” he asked her.
She stared straight ahead. “I need to watch the road.”
It was all the reply he needed.
“I’m sorry,” he said, but the words felt empty. “I’m so sorry.” He hated that she knew all that he was capable of. If he had gotten to Bella, would they have managed to pull him away? It would have been nearly impossible. It was more likely that after a few moments of pure bliss she would have been dead in his arms.
He always knew he had more trouble controlling himself than the others. He knew he wasn’t as good at seeing all those humans as people. But he knew Bella. He liked Bella. But when blood was spilled, it hadn’t made a difference.
Alice kept staring at the road. Her jaw was clenched, and Jasper could feel the hurt and regret she tried to hide. He knew there was nothing he could say to ease her suffering. He could lift it, for a while, but that would only be temporary. There was nothing he could do to change the past.
He turned his eyes away and looked at the road as well.
It was only then that Alice spoke. “I just wish you had told me you were struggling. We could have left, you know. Just the two of us. I wouldn’t have minded.”
Jasper sighed. “You were just so happy.”
The trees were almost a blur to his eyes as Alice pushed the car to its limits. He wasn’t sure where they were going. He only knew that Alice had avoided the town.
“I don’t want to be happy if it makes you miserable.” Alice whispered. Her voice was barely audible over the sound of the engine. Jasper didn’t what to say.
Once, in law school, during a class on conflict resolution, the professor had explained a simple exercise called the walk-and-talk. Whenever two parties were fighting, the two of them should take a walk together. When they walked, they were forced to look in the same direction, literally. Apparently, this could help during a difficult conversation. It made it easier to talk. Jasper had been quick to dismiss the notion. Just the thought of Rosalie and Edward resolving all of their conflicts by taking a walk every now and then seemed laughable. But now, as Alice took a deep breath and continued to explain, he wasn’t so sure. He kept his eyes on the road.
“I’m not angry,” she said. “How could I be, when it could have been any of us?” She made a sound that was almost a laugh. “Every time Bella came over it was a risk. I knew that. Today was no exception. The exact way in which it happened was a surprise, but the possibilities were there. And in a lot of those futures, it wasn’t you. It was me. Esme. Emmett. Edward. Most of those futures were gone within seconds. I just assumed, since I kept seeing Bella as a vampire, the chances of something actually happening were miniscule.”
Jasper would always be thankful for her gift - without it, they wouldn’t have met – but he wished it wasn’t such a burden. How often had she seen her best friend die? How often had he killed her? How often had she? He didn’t dare to ask. “I’m sorry you had to see those things.” He said instead. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Everyone seemed so happy,” she said. Then she laughed. “We’re hopeless, aren’t we?”
“Maybe a little,” Jasper grinned. He looked at her. The tension had disappeared from her shoulders and there was a softness in her smile he hadn’t seen in a while.
She turned on the radio. I took her moment to recognize the song, but when she did, she sang along softly. If Jasper wasn’t such a terrible singer, he might have joined in, but for now he felt content to listen.
He looked at the road ahead. He wasn’t sure where they were going. He didn’t ask. As long as Alice was with him, he would be alright.
