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@amelielatremoille @rxgueprincess @genevievedefrance

But he’s our brother…

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rxgueprincess‌:

SACHA

GENEVIEVE

AMELIE

It felt like Celestine was only just getting her appetite after the chaos of pre-halloween events. She spent most of her even drinking so she could sleep, so it was no surprise her head felt foggy and her whole body had a small chill to it. She’d been avoiding public spaces as much as possible. Granted she’d even been avoiding Amelie since the interrogations; well hadn’t she been side stepping her a little for most of the island? Cel had a plan of joining her sister, who looked a little out of shorts. 

But what she hadn’t expected was for her sister to be joined by their other two siblings. Who upon appeared looked well and truly ridiculous; if anything a little late for Halloween. Halloween, Sacha’s birthday fell around the time after that; of course because when else would be a prime time to kidnap royals? The sight in itself was well- laughable. And if Celestine hadn’t been in such a state of shock, she would be rolling her eyes and throwing out every sarcastic comment and taunt in the book. For her sister’s over the top costume, she always did have to stand out, and well Sacha’s lack of costume. Maybe if they’d arrived here a few months ago maybe that’s what they would have gotten. Quick witting remarks and a tight concerned embrace. How long had it been? 8 maybe 9 months?

Instead there was a loud crash as she dropped her food tray to the floor. In truth she wasn’t sure which of them looked worse. Celestine stood still with bandages from the interrogations with all of the colour draining from her face. Or the pair who looked exhausted and like they’d been dragged through the hedge backwards. “Mon dieu-” She uttered, shaking bandaged fingers raising to cover her mouth which was agap in pure horror. Right here was the fear she’d been dreading ever since she’d gotten here. God she wanted to strangle Salome. She was dreaming. She had to be. She was delirious from lack of sleep as it was, evident by her hollow eyes, this just had to be a cruel trick of her eyes. But their images didn’t falter, they were stood as if pulled straight from the halls of the palace. “Non-” She muttered shaking her head as she simply stood and stared at them, well like most of the canteen were by this point. They always knew how to make an entrance. “Merde-” Celestine cursed and instead of moving forward to greet the pair, to join Amelie’s side in meeting their siblings; the princess found herself retreating. And before long she’d spun and practically ran out the back door. God she felt like she was going to be sick.

@sachalatremoille @genevievedefrance @amelialatremoille

GENEVIEVE

AMELIE

A kitchen? No, some kind of canteen you would see in public schools. Sacha’s brow furrowed into a frown, the door swinging shut behind him jolting him out of his daze. ‘’What the fuck?’’ He didn’t make it any further than just that, the smaller version of Genevieve rising to her feet and slowly walking towards them as if her death had just been sentenced. A whirlwind of emotions smacked Sacha right in the face at Amelie appearing before them. His jaw dropped, a rare thing to happen to the French prince and he took a step towards Amelie. ‘’Melie--’’ 

Then there was the crash that got everyone’s attention, Sacha’s gaze moving over Amelie’s head. Fuck. He couldn’t have described his feelings in that moment to anyone if they ever even asked. Celestine looked like she had been dragged through Hell, multiple times and back again. He had never seen her in this shape, despite her tomboy attitude. The amount of times she had come in, dragging mud and water behind her after going out riding in the streaming rain, or trudging through the small dirt track behind their home to sneak the backway into town. 

Someone had hurt her. That was the only conclusion that anyone could draw by merely glancing at the woman. ‘’Celestine!’’ Sacha shouted, and instead of embracing Melie (at the risk of being stabbed in the jugular) as he had planned to, Sacha barged straight past his youngest sister to chase after the brunette that ran from him them. She didn’t go far, his long legs able to catch up with her even if she hadn’t stopped and collapsed against a tree. Sacha reached out before he even reached her, his arms enclosing around her as he hugged her tightly.

‘‘Celestine, what happened?’‘ He brushed a lock of hair out of her face, his heart pounding a thousand miles an hour. He felt sick, swallowing down bile that had raised up in his throat. ‘‘Who did this to you? Was it Luka!? I’ll strangle that son of a bitch with my bare goddamn hands, I swear to God.’‘ That was Sacha, leaping to conclusions without taking a moment to think about it. A flare of anger lit up in him, ready to go storming the island in search for the Italian prince.

@genevievedefrance​ @amelielatremoille​

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theragnarssaga‌:

Women, drinks, and drugs. His best friend was a complicated man, but with predictable and straightforward tastes. It was a surprise these international kidnappers hadn’t gotten to the French prince sooner - except Ragnar knew firsthand that Sacha had the devil’s own luck.

One more person he cared for in danger. His fingers brushed the hastily tucked-away napkin with his half-scribbled plan. How many more would these - these monsters take from him, from their families?

One plan at a time. The good thing about Sacha was that he would be game for anything. He frowned. The bad thing about Sacha was that he would be game for anything, including things not on the plan.

Helvítis fokking fokk. What a mess.

“No, Sacha, I do not have cigarettes, I barely have an extra change of clothes here - it only looks like an island resort, this is a prison.” He paused, lips pressed together, then shook his head. He had to put this in Sacha-terms.

“Sacha. Hey.” He snapped his fingers, made sure he had his friend’s attention. “Remember the Climate Change Conference a year or so back? In Phuket?”

The sheer embarrassment of that skítsýning was physically painful still. He could feel the backs of his ears heating up just from remembering. He had sworn Sacha to never bring up Phuket again, but these were desperate times.

“Phuket. You convinced me to visit the night markets for ‘fruit bowls.’ The next morning, I - I was violently ill over the Executive Secretariat.” Sacha, he remembered with a burst of irritation, had looked as if he had had a full night’s sleep with no ill effects; France had made the points Ragnar had so painstakingly drafted weeks earlier because Ragnar had been escorted out.

It had not been one of Iceland’s shining moments.

“Before that, do you remember being in the jail? They took our watches, clothes, everything, and left us in the cell with strangers, with no explanation.” He locked gazes with his friend, willing him to understand the gravity of the situation. “This is like that. No cigarettes, no phones, no way out, no explanation. Indefinitely.”

He was halfway through raising his glass before he paused.

“Except we keep our clothes on this time.”

Ragnar snapped his fingers in front of his face and Sacha waved his hand in irritation to remove Ragnar’s limb from his personal space. (Funny how Sacha was allowed personal space, but he didn’t allow anyone else that personal space.) But it did get his attention and Sacha raised an eyebrow at him. ‘’An extra change of clothes would be good too.’’ He murmured as if he hadn’t been listening in the first place. Of course he had, Sacha was a lot of things to a lot of people. But the men had known each other for thirty years, and Sacha had been through a lot too many of Ragnar’s you’re-not-listening-asshole expressions. It hurt more than any physical blow would. It was like someone giving you the thumbs down instead of the middle finger.

Pukhet. 

He grinned broadly at the memory, a smug look sliding over his face. Fruit bowls, who the fuck would ever take Sacha seriously when he said the word fruit bowls in a sentence. He had never imagined that Ragnar would fall for it. And yet he had. Twelve hours later highly regretting it. It had been one of Sacha’s best nights. ‘’I never did get that damn rolex back.’’

We keep our clothes on this time.

Sacha snorted, an amused snort as he leaned back in his chair. ‘’If this is like then, well I’ll buy my way out of this too.’’ He tilted his chair back on two legs casually. It was still hard for him to take this seriously. What could these people possibly want more than money. It wasn’t like they had much of it. Besides, a week or two of Sacha on this island and they would be begging France to take him back. ‘’Don’t worry, Ragnar. Mère will pay them whatever they want to get me back.’’ The words rolled effortlessly over his tongue, nevermind the fact his two youngest sisters had been here for months. His mother would give the pirates whatever they wanted to get Sacha back. He was confident in that. ‘’And if that doesn’t work, we do another Beijing and blow the place up.’’

Beijing, when Sacha decided it would be a great idea to gamble with some dodgy looking people. Finding out the dangerous way when he tried to cheat himself out of his loss that the dodgy looking hobos turned out to be part of a small Chinese mafia group. They had gone after Sacha at his hotel room, finding Ragnar instead. The good luck had been that it was Chinese new year and dangerous fireworks had been easily obtained by Sacha.

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Gaspard Ulliel photographed by Driu Crilly & Tiago Martel

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tatiana-nikolaevna‌:

Despite the ever growing number of royals on the island, he was the last person she had expected to see. Why, she couldn’t say, but as she stood suddenly in front of her ex, she was dumbfounded. It had never even crossed her mind that she’d see him on the island, especially after all this time. She had half expected to see him when she arrived, given how close he had been to her when she had been taken, but it had been months.

Her lips were parted in shock as she looked at him, not knowing what to say. He was used to seeing her at glitzy parties, balls, made up perfectly for when she knew he’d be in the vicinity. Yet, there he was, complimenting her make up free face and untamed hair. “Sacha..” His grin only reminded her of her last night in Moscow. It was one of the last things she had seen before she’d been grabbed and it had hurt just as much then as it did now. “Leave me alone.” Tatiana was sure that Sacha knew every way to get under her skin and into her head. No matter how many times she had ended things with him, they always ended back together somehow. Even now, when she had all but cleared him from her mind on the island, there he was. “I have nothing to say to you.”

‘‘Tatiana!’‘ Sacha called out before she could walk away from her, his hand shooting out and fingers closing over her wrist. ‘‘Don’t do that, Ana. I know we parted in-- ahem, awkward circumstances, but you’re here. I was worried about you.’‘ It wasn’t a complete lie, when news of her disappearance had reached him, Sacha had been worried. For a while. Until he got distracted with other things (people). Tatiana had always been in the back of his mind, no matter how much Sacha perceived her to just be something easy to pass time with, they had known each other for a long time. She had seen all sides of him, the nasty sides, the vulnerable sides and his genuine happy sides. ‘‘I’m sorry, Tatiana. I never meant for things to go the way they did.’’ It was so easy for him to slide on the face that he had used so many times through the years. ‘’I never wanted to hurt you. Never. Don’t go, I want to know how you’re doing. Has anyone hurt you?’‘ Sacha asked, the thought suddenly racing through him. Someone had hurt Celestine, not to mention some of the other royals he had spoken to. 

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‘‘--maybe we could have been perfect in another life.’‘

@tatiana-nikolaevna​

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“Never fear quarrels, but seek hazardous adventures.”

@theragnarssaga

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do u take constructive criticism

i only take cash or credit 

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gunnerxkalakaua‌:

“What now?” She replied, cocking an eyebrow right back at the male. Not only was he appearing to be in costume still, but he was also speaking in what she recognized as french. Her own was a little rusty, so she had to listen closely to understand what he was saying before she could reply, albeit somewhat skeptical as he seemed oblivious to the situation he was in. A prince borrowing a phone, now that was hilarious. “Sorry princeling, but my phone is off limits to you. Though if you ask nicely, I might be able to help you out with a shower and some shorts that doesn’t sparkle in the sun.” While a bit slow, her french was flawless, a lazy smile on her lips as she stepped closer to the male. “Though when you mention it, a picture might be worth a lot some day.” With that she raised her phone to snap a pic before sliding the device safely into her back pocket. 

She took his picture before he even had time to blink. A baffled look spread over his face for a moment before his lips spread into a broad grin. She was gutsy, he liked that. Most of the pirates Sacha had interacted with so far had seemed to take an immediate dislike to him the moment he had opened his mouth. (He could not understand why.) ‘’If you get that printed out and let me sign it, then it’s already worth quite a bit.’’ Sacha drawled in amusement. ‘’Especially with me looking like this. I’m quite famous, you know.’’ He was still scoping out what exactly was happening on this island. Most of the royals he had seen so far all looked like they had seen ghosts. Their expressions serious and half of the time even terrified. Quite the opposite to how Sacha was meandering around the island. ‘’So, I take it we can’t have a phone.’’ That made sense, considering they had all been ... well, kidnapped/abducted. ‘’But surely we can earn privileges with good behaviour, right? I’ve been good so far, any chance for a cigarette?’’

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Gaspard Ulliel as Louis ↳ Juste la fin du monde (2016)  

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@genevievedefrance

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ragingemerson‌:

“Viens m'aider avec cette chaise.“ I need your help with this chair. Emerson wasn’t about to let anybody pass by without helping the chair. “Cela vous concerne aussi.” This affects you, too. Judging by how he carried himself, he was a royal. God, could this day get worse?

Well shit. Of course she could speak French. Sacha didn’t bother hiding his scowl this time. ‘’And how exactly does this affect me?’’ He waved his hand at the broken chair, speaking in French and not budging from where he was leaned against the wall. Sacha folded his arms back over his chest, his plan on staying exactly where he was falling apart the moment her expression sharpened. Jésus Christ. He hadn’t broken the goddamn chair, he hadn’t been anywhere near it. ‘’And what exactly do you expect me to do? Wave a fucking magic wand?’’

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‘’Ah jeez, Cassandra. You break my heart.’‘ Sacha placed his hand against his heart mockingly, the lazy grin ever present on his lips. He looked around them, his interest peaking a little bit more with each thing that he spotted. ‘‘You know, I was just thinking about taking a holiday. I was thinking about Greece, but this seems good enough too.’‘ He wasn’t taking this as seriously as he probably shoulder, Sacha knew that. But at the moment, there wasn’t much point in trying to take it seriously. A, he was seventy percent sure that he was still drunk and eighty-nine percent sure that he was still high. And B, taking this seriously now would really put a damper on his party. ‘‘So -- where exactly are we, Cass?’‘ Sacha let his gaze fall back on the princess, his betrothed to be exact. Not that she had any idea. It would have been easy several times for Sacha to drop the bomb, but each time he just hadn’t. ‘‘Are...--’‘ He paused for a moment, a frown crossing his face as if the words were hard to spit out. ‘‘Are you okay?’‘

sachalatremoille·:

Heavy boots thudded against the decking behind him as he was walked down the docks towards the large island. Or at least it looked quite large to him. To be honest, Sacha wasn’t entirely sure if he was still high. His bare feet slapped against the wood until they started treading in sand. The Frenchman looked down in mild surprise – as if the idea of sand on an island was completely ludacris. He stood still, for a moment unaware that the prodding hands from before weren’t pushing him forward anymore. The brunets gaze turned up, away from the sand under him and fell on the pirates that had just left him there. “What the fuck…” Sacha mumbled under his breath and looked around him. People spread out in the distance, a few buildings dotted about and pirates on the docks behind him. 

“Fucking pirates.” He grumbled, running a hand through his spray painted glitter golden hair. Sacha most likely looked an absolute state, he had been taken from the Halloween party that he had hosted for his own birthday. He had gone as statue. He was spray painted gold all over, the only item of clothing that he was wearing were tight short boxer shorts. It had been an absolute genius idea, really. Sacha was quite proud of himself for coming up with it. He started walking, unsure where exactly he was heading but the largest building on the island seemed the most promising. He needed answers, but most of all he needed either another hit, a cigarette or probably a shower considering he was starting to sweat off the paint. There was no room for surprise when he saw Cassandra walking towards him, just a calm relief that at least he knew somewhere here. “Hey, Cassie. Any idea where I can get some smokes from? Or a shower?” Sacha ran his hand through his hair, ruffling it slightly at distaste of how the hairspray was starting to feel. “You could even join me if you fancied it.” He added with a coy smile. @cassandragalatas

She had slept in, or well, had slept in as far as she was concerned. The woman was accustomed to waking up before eight, and had instead chosen to stay in bed until half past nine, making her way to the kitchen where Eli had left breakfast for her. A quick glance out the window told her of how beautiful the day was likely to be and she made the decision to make use of it, to stop keeping herself locked away in the villa. It seemed like the perfect day to spend some time at the beach, reading for a few hours under an umbrella, and making use of the water when she became too overheated. Cassandra dressed quickly, not wanting to let the rest of the day pass her by, and made her way to the beach. There were multiple places that she could have stopped to rest, but instead she kept walking, looking for the perfect place to park herself for a few hours. Somewhere rather quiet and devoid of other people. It took a moment for her to realize that in her quest, she had gotten rather close to the docks.

For the most part Cass avoided the docks and was inclined to turn and head the other way when she spotted a familiar figure. Even though it had been six months or so, and even though he lacked actual clothing, she recognized him almost instantly. A fleeting thought told her to continue on with her plan to turn and walk away but she quickly chastised herself. Surely he was nervous and confused, now stuck in an unfamiliar place. Perhaps a familiar face would do him some good, despite her personal feelings about the French prince. So she made her way over, book held tightly in her hand, pausing only when she was close enough to hear him speak.

His comment didn’t surprised her, but still she had expected some acknowledgement of the situation. “You are more concerned with finding cigarettes and a shower than learning what exactly is going on?” she questioned, an incredulous expression clear on her face. ”Γιατί σας αφήνω να με εκπλήσχετε πια;?” she added with a sigh. “And no, I do not want to join you in a shower. I have never wanted to and will not begin now.”

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jackatsea‌:

Jack was merely planning on going for a swim. He had a favorite place by the rocks. What he wasn’t expecting was the sight in front of him. His eyes only growing bigger as he really took it in. “Um.” It was the obvious the other was a royal but for some reason that wasn’t stopping the immediate attraction Jack was feeling. He was just too attractive. “Um, no, don’t smoke.” He offered, his cheeks reddening as he realized the other was naked. Was this real life? Was this person a god? He sure was gold. “Um, I can probably find you something. We don’t really have a store but I-I’m sure I can find you things. Uh, who are you?”

‘‘Ah, fuck.’‘ Sacha’s lip curled in distaste. How hard could it possibly be to get access to some simple cigarettes? He watched the younger man slowly turn redder as he fully understood what he had sat in the water before him. ‘‘This,’‘ Sacha gestured to his face, dropping his arm back in the water with a splash and flashing the man a coy grin. ‘‘This is paint, this is not my real face.’‘ Although he probably had enough money to get gold infused with his skin, if that was even a thing. ‘‘Sacha. Sacha La Tremoille. I am France’s prince, in line for the-- ah, uhm, for king. Do you perhaps know where I could get cigarettes from too, camarade?’‘

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♙

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10 Things I Hate About You (1999)