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thedevotedhart · 14 days ago

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“Now THAT’S a castle.” Pippa declared as they rounded the last bend on the road to Cair Paravel. Percy stared up at it as they reigned in the horses and came to a stop. It certainly was larger than home, and brighter, but there were similarities. Cair Paravel stretched down the cliffside, overlooking the Great Eastern Ocean. Hartsmoor, the looming keep of the Wardens of the North, sat atop a mountain, sneering down at Ettinsmoor and the Witch Country.

“Actually, I think it’s a palace, not a castle.” Em corrected, her blonde hair coming loose from her braid and blowing in the sea breeze. Of all the Hart siblings, Em most closely resembled Mother. Mother always claimed her family was descended from the Great Northern Star, but Percy had his doubts. Firstly, there was no documented case of a star coming down from the heavens to have children, with the exception of Liliandil, who was a queen. But when Percy looked at his baby sister, he could picture maybe she was part star. At only 10, Percy could see the beauty she would become.

“Well, whatever you call it, it’s certainly grander than home.” Pippa flicked her dark braid back over her shoulder. Percy could tell she was impressed with what she saw before her. Pippa had been the most excited by Mother’s summons to the seat of royal power. This was her best chance to escape Mother’s schemes for her, most of which involved marriage to some backwards, grubby, dull Northern Lord. There had been a parade of suitors last summer. Pippa had not been impressed by the sons of the North, and Mother had not been impressed by Pippa’s attempts to reject her suitors. This trip would be a fresh start for all of them.

“Of course it’s grander than home! It’s Cair Paravel!” Em exclaimed. Pippa opened her mouth to reply, but Percy cut her off. Whatever came out of her mouth was sure to hurt Em’s feelings. Pippa didn’t like being challenged, and she could be quite mean. Her sharp tongue rivaled Mother’s, while Em was soft and easily bruised.

“We should get going. I’m sure Mother’s waiting for us.”

She was standing in the courtyard as they rode in, blonde hair piled in an elaborate knot on the top of her head, and hand already on her hip. “Really, Philippa? Breeches?”

“Well, I could hardly ride all the way here from Hartsmoor dressed as a court lady.” Pippa replied, swinging down from the saddle and tossing the reins to a waiting groom. “Then, you would chide me for ruining my dress.” Mother frowned sternly. Pippa had a way of pushing Mother’s buttons. Percy quickly dismounted and pulled Em from her horse.

“They make overskirts for riding outfits. You do not have to parade around as a man.”

“I doubt anyone would mistake me for a man while I’m carting these around.” Pippa grabbed her breasts in a crude gesture. Mother’s face began to turn red. Percy knew he had to intercede before things turned ugly. He quickly stepped between his mother and twin.

“Hello, Mother.” He leaned in and kissed her cheek.

“Hello, Percy.” She replied, giving him a quick peck on the cheek in return. “How was the journey?”

“Dusty, but we made it.” He gave her a small smile. She almost returned.

“Well, come along. We must get you cleaned up before you are presented to the court.” Mother turned on her heel and began walking away.

“Presented? What do you mean, presented?” Pippa chased after her. Percy motioned for Em to start after them.

“There is a full court dinner and dance that you will be attending.” Mother answered without slowing down or looking.

“Really?” Em exclaimed, clapping her hands together.

“Not you, Emiliana. You are far too young for that.” Percy physically saw the joy leave Em’s body. Pippa grabbed Em’s hand.

“Then why did you even bring her here?”

Mother finally stopped and spun around to face them. They had been on a journey through twisting corridors and stairwells. “I could hardly leave her home all by herself with everyone else in the family here. That would be cruel.”

“And dragging her all the way down her just to exclude her from everything isn’t?” Pippa began to raise her voice.

“Not here, Pips.” Percy whispered sharply, grabbing her shoulder. Mother would never forgive them if they made a scene in the castle corridor, especially on their first day.

“Harumph.” Mother spun on her heel and continued walking. “It’s not for too long. Once Sebastien finds a wife, Emilie will return to Hartsmoor with him.” She came to a stop outside a set of double doors. “And I can focus on you two.” She looked over each of the two twins, and Percy could tell in her expression that neither of them were up to her standards. “Now, these are the Hart family apartments. This will be your home for the time being.” She nodded to the attendant who then swung open the doors. They walked through an entry way, a parlor, and into a private sitting room. Percy hadn’t even seen the bedrooms yet and he could tell it was a magnificent suite of rooms, very befitting of the family’s station. He wondered just how big the apartments were.

“It’s amazing!” Em gasped, staring around in wonder. Percy felt a pang of nostalgia for a time when he was allowed to so shamelessly display his opinions and thoughts. Mother had not been as strict with Em as she had been with the older children.

“Do you think so, Daisy? A familiar voice asked from an overlooked chair in the corner.

“Willian!” Em shrieked, dashing across the room and literally jumping into his arms. It was a good thing Will had stood up. He grunted as he caught her.

“You are getting heavy, Daisy!” He swung her around before setting her down. “And tall.” He bent down and kissed the top of her head, his distinctly brown hair falling into his eyes. Will resembled his own mother, so Percy had been told. Percy had never met his aunt and uncle, they had died before he was born, and so his cousin had been raised as his adopted brother. Will looked up. “Do I get a hug from you, Pipsqueak?”

“I suppose, but I’m not running.” Pippa crossed the room and hugged Will. “It wouldn’t be befitting of a proper lady to show such emotion.” She cast a pointed look at Mother, who ignored her for a whispered conversation with a maid Percy had never seen before. “You need a haircut.” She tussled Will’s hair.

“I need a haircut? Have you seen your twin’s head?” Will looked at Percy’s unruly dark curls.

“I’m sure Mother will sort him out soon enough.” Pippa also looked at Percy appraisingly. “Though the curls give him an added boyishness that will probably make him more attractive, so she might let him keep them.”

“You’re very calculating, you know that?” Percy crossed his arms.

“Don’t pretend like you’re not.”

“It’s time to wash the stink of the road off of you.” Mother clapped her hands together. “Come along. Girls first.”

“Girls?” Pippa stared at Mother. “Are you seriously going to make me share a bath with Emmie? I’m sixteen, Mother!”

“Find yourself a husband and you will never have to bathe with your sister again. Until then…” Mother snapped her fingers and pointed through an open door behind her.

“Unbelievable.” Pippa snapped before stalking through the doorway, Em trailing behind her.

“Do you think I’m allowed to sit down?” Percy asked, surveying the fancy chairs as Mother closed the door behind the girls.

“Not with road stink on you.” Will said, pointedly sitting back down. “Mother will skin you if you ruin her chairs. She just had them reupholstered.”

“Of course she did.” Percy sighed, moving to go sit on the windowsill.

Three hours later, they were washed and pruned, and now decked out in their finest clothes, preparing to enter the Grand Hall. Father and Sebastien had finally them. The family lined up in their assigned pairs, Mother and Father first, Pippa and Seb in the middle, with Percy and Will bringing up the rear.

“Should I put my hand on yours, or would you like to be the lady in this situation?” Percy smirked at Will, nodding his head towards how Pippa had copied Mother’s stance, with her right hand placed over Seb’s left. Will snorted.

“Percy, I will beat the-“

“Do NOT embarrass me.” Mother hissed from the front, cutting off Pippa’s retort. “The QUEEN is in there. You will behave appropriately.” They all grew quiet for a moment.

“You know,” Will whispered, leaning in close as the group in front of them was introduced. “I’m glad Emmie didn’t come tonight.”

“Why’s that?” Percy asked, as the family moved into position in front of the massive doorway. He could see into the hall. It certainly was grand, with all the gold and silver and bronze glittering in the candlelight. At the far end of the room was a raised dais, where the queen sat. In front of her table stood the Lord of the Lantern Waste and his wife, where they bowed to the queen. That’s what Percy was about to do. They had traverse the length of the room, in front of everyone, and bow to the queen before they could sit down.

“Because if she was here, you would walk with her, and I would have to walk in there by myself like a fucking idiot.” Percy had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing. In front of him, he could see Pippa begin to squeeze Seb’s hand and he knew she was trying not to laugh. In front of her, he could see Mother’s shoulders tense. She had heard, and they would all be in for it later. “Head up and eyes front.” Will whispered softly as they stepped to the edge of the red carpet.

“Lord and Lady Hart of Hartsmoor, Wardens of the North!” The steward declared, thumping his giant stick. The family began to walk forward. Percy was careful to stay in step with Will. He didn’t want to be the one to embarrass Mother in front of the entire court. “And their children, the Lady Philippa, and Sers Sebastien, Percival, and Willian!”

It felt like an eternity to cross the hall. Percy kept his gaze on the banner over the queen’s head, displaying the Narnian Lion. Percy thought a lion was much grander than his own family’s crest, which was a stupid hart, because what else would a family named Hart pick? Percy always related the lion to Old King Peter, even though it was supposed to represent all of the Pevensies (and Aslan, of course). Percy glanced at Queen Tamzin for the first time as they reached the foot of the dais. Was she descended from a Pevensie? Or was she from the Telmarine line of King Caspian? That would make her descended from a star. Percy should know, as Mother had taught them. But, he didn’t remember. He probably hadn’t thought it horribly important at the time. She was beautiful, whoever her ancestors were, with her warm blonde hair and kind eyes.

Father and Mother stopped directly in front of the Queen. Seb released Pippa’s hand and stood to Father’s right, while Pippa walked to Mother’s left. Percy and Will split the same way, with Percy next to Pippa and Will next to Seb. They all bowed in unison. “Your Majesty,” Father called out as soon as they rose. “You are, of course, familiar with my older sons, but may I introduce my twins, uh…”Father gestured towards them and paused, his face flashing confusion. The pause went on long enough to become slightly awkward. Percy bit his lip and stared up at the Lion banner, stubbornly refusing to make eye contact with Pippa, even when she squeezed his hand. He couldn’t. If he looked at her, he knew he would crack.

Father had forgotten their names. Names that had literally been announced less than a minute ago. Father had never been overly familiar with him and Pippa, not like he was with Seb, but Percy didn’t think he was in such low regard as to have his name not even worth remembering. Did he really mean that little to Father? Or was Father perhaps having a stroke? Percy didn’t want to look over to find out.

“Philippa and Percival, Your Majesty.” Mother cut in, breaking the awkward pause. Percy hoped the Queen hadn’t noticed the slip up, for all their sakes. He and Pippa bowed their heads to the Queen. All Percy wanted to do was go sit down (or sink into the floor, that would also work). However, they couldn’t sit down until Queen Tamzin was done addressing them in whatever way she saw fit. Percy hoped they would just get a nod so they could quickly escape. But they probably wouldn’t. For the Queen to simply nod at her Warden of the North, while he was introducing his children no less, would be a serious snub. A severe insult. Percy knew Mother would never recover if she was insulted by the Queen, especially after such an insult from her own husband. He glanced up at the Queen, hoping his face wasn’t turning red, despite the heat he could feel on it. Please let this be over quickly.

#house hart #two bodies * one soul #but would you live for me #my writing

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101flavoursofweird · 1 year ago

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Title: Casa Mia

Set: During, before and after LMJ

Spoilers: Mainly for the anime and the final case of the LMJ. Slight spoilers for Mystery Room, Curious Village, PL2 and PL3

Warnings: The title of this fic was originally going to be ‘The League of Absent Fathers’… because it contains a lot of talk about absent fathers— and very light mention of a character becoming pregnant and giving birth.

Also, contains a lot of headcanons connecting LMJ to characters from the original series

Also, contains a lot of Italian phrases and some idioms literally translated into English! I’ll include some translations below.

Inspiration: The title, ‘Casa Mia’, is a translation of ‘My Home’. I wish I could say this fic was inspired by an Italian song, but no, it’s ‘My House’ from Matilda the Musical

Casa Mia

“Miss Perfetti, I believe you owe Miss Layton an apology!”

Emiliana blinked at Katrielle’s besotted schoolboy assistant. (She really needed to get a ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign for her office door…)

“Chiedo scusa?” Emiliana said, a tad sarcastically.

If she had hoped Ernest Greeves would be intimidated by her native tongue, then she was mistaken…

“M-Mi Dispiace!” he replied in passable Italian. “I’m sorry… See— that wasn’t difficult, was it?” He offered her a smile, but Emiliana still didn’t understand.

“Why would I owe her an apology? Have I done something to offend Kat?”

Ernest’s smile retracted. “As a matter of fact, you have! Miss Layton was frightfully ang— upset by how you treated us— I mean, her, at the cafe the other day…”

“Oh…” Was he referring to the little competition she’d had with Kat during the stakeout? “She’s not still upset about that, is she?”

Sternly, Ernest nodded.

Emiliana arched her eyebrows. On her way out of the cafe, she had seen Katrielle stomping her feet like a petulant child, but surely Emiliana’s actions hadn’t affected her that much!

Emiliana had predicted Kat would storm off in a huff, but she would cool down as soon as she’d had some ice strawberry cream or some frozen cheesecake…

“I paid for everything you two bought at that cafe,” Emiliana reminded Ernest. She leaned back in her desk chair, lifting her chin. “It’s not my fault if Kat’s a sore loser, obsessed with horoscopes—“

Ernest planted his hands on the desk. “That’s not what upset her!”

Emiliana stared at him.

Ernest reared back, probably shocked by his own boldness. “I… It was…” He clenched his fists. “…how you lied…” He pointed at Emiliana. “…about your tragic backstory!”

(Cosa diavolo…?)

Emiliana pushed her glasses up her nose. “You mean Kat actually believed— the fictitious plot line of a movie— was my life story?”

“I-it might be fictitious to you,” Ernest fumed, “but you shouldn’t make light of such things!”

“What things—?”

“Missing parents!” Ernest burst out.

…Oh. Perhaps she did owe Katrielle Layton an apology after all.

Of course Emiliana was aware that Professor Hershel Layton was still missing…

Emiliana had never looked into the case herself— Scotland Yard seemed keen to forget it by the time she’d started working there— but she knew not everyone had forgotten Professor Layton.

Her mentor— once a student in Layton’s archaeology class— had ceased his investigations into the disappearance after a few years. (Secretly, Emiliana had been relieved. She couldn’t imagine losing her blundering mentor as Kat had lost her father…)

Then there was her distant colleague, Inspector Alfendi Layton— Professor Layton’s controversial son and Kat’s far more qualified older brother.

Alfendi might have aided in the search for his father years ago, but now (most likely due to the Forbodium incident Emiliana had heard so little about) it was rare to find him outside of his office.

Emiliana had only bumped into Alfendi on a handful of occasions, and he had never breathed a word about the Professor to her.

That wasn’t to certify that Alfendi had given up on the search entirely— but he had by all outward appearances.

The same could be said about Commissioner Barton and the other senior members of Scotland Yard. As much as they wanted to locate the Professor— to bring closure to the Layton family— it had been over a decade since Layton had left (on his own accord).

All those funds and work hours could go towards helping other missing people. Surely Professor Layton would agree…

And then there was Katrielle Layton. Like Alfendi, Kat had never mentioned her father directly to Emiliana…

In turn, Emiliana had never thought to ask.

Obviously, Kat must miss her father. She had taken up his mantle as a puzzle-solver and a detective, naming her agency after him. Kat even had her own top hat!

She differed from her father in a lot of ways, though; where Layton had relied on his famous intuition, Kat depended on ‘instinct’ and dumb luck.

Layton had a lot of salt in his gourd and a polite tongue. Kat, on the other hand, had a habit of losing her gourd and she did not have a single hair on her tongue.

The Professor had fought all sorts of villains and machines in a composed manner. Kat was all pepper— full of life— every second of the day…

Though, maybe that wasn’t completely true, now that Emiliana considered it.

There had been an… incident when Emiliana shared a cabin with Kat aboard the Thametanic.

Early in the morning, Emiliana had awoken to the sound of sniffling. Rolling over in her bed— ignoring the rocking of the boat— she had asked Kat what the matter was.

“Nothing!” Kat had exclaimed, before stumbling out of her bed, dashing across the cabin and locking herself in the bathroom.

After that, Kat had brushed the whole thing off as “Sea sickness!” and Emiliana had pretended to believe her, because it was easier.

(Because how could Emiliana comfort Kat if she was crying?)

At the cafe, upon hearing the synopsis to ‘Lonely Study Girl’, Kat— and Ernest— had shed tears. Emiliana had assumed they were overreacting, playing up in front of Mama Sandra, but now that she thought about it…

Kat had looked so concerned when she mistook Mama for, well— Emiliana’s mamma.

Emiliana’s mamma was nothing like Mama Sandra. She was big-boned and brown-eyed, with flowing dark hair.

Mamma made most of her own clothes. By comparison, most of Sandra’s clothes were designer labels.

Emiliana’s mamma was not an award-winning actress— she couldn’t even keep a straight face if she lied!

She was a beauty therapist who owned her own salon. Every other day, she would call Emiliana just to gossip about the customers she had to deal with. (“Emi, you won’t believe what Mrs. Wolfe was wearing this morning…!”)

When Emiliana was little, her mamma hadn’t had a lot of money— one trait Emiliana actually shared with the ‘Lonely Study Girl’— but she had her family to help her.

Contrary to ‘Lonely Study Girl’, however, Emiliana’s mamma would never dream of leaving her!

Mamma had moved to England with her just so Emiliana could follow her mentor…

But Kat, believing Emiliana was abandoned as a child, had felt sympathy.

No wonder Kat had been so unsettled when she found out the truth— that Emiliana was simply summarising her favourite movie.

That movie mirrored Kat’s reality.

Yes, Emiliana definitely needed to apologise after that glaring oversight.

So, as soon as she had finished work for the day, she went with Ernest to visit Kat.

Kat lived a few streets away from her detective agency— up a hill.

Emiliana had to stop to catch her breath as they reached a bright blue block of flats. It was a nice neighbourhood— hill notwithstanding— but Emiliana was surprised Kat could afford to live here.

Either private detectives were paid more than Emiliana had assumed, or maybe Kat’s family helped her out.

Kat’s bother earned a decent wage as an inspector… But was there anyone else Kat could depend on? Grandparents? Aunties and uncles? Cousins…?

Ernest hadn’t been beaten by the hill— not as badly as Emiliana, anyway.

He marched up to the front door and pressed the buzzer for the intercom. “Hello— Miss Layton? It’s me, and— and Emiliana—“ Ernest broke off as they heard barking.

Emiliana had a feeling the barks were aimed at her. “The dog lives with Kat?”

Ernest nodded. “They don’t always get along, but Sherl’s good company for Miss Layton.”

“Right…”

“I’ll take Sherl out for a walk while you two talk—“

Much to Ernest’s relief and Emiliana’s apprehension, the front door clicked open. Ernest held the door for her. “After you…”

The stairs did nothing to improve Emiliana’s shortness of breath— or, admittedly, that might have had something to do with her nerves.

She had confronted violent criminals without flinching, and yet, the thought of facing Kat, after Emiliana had hurt her, was daunting.

When— and why— had Emiliana grown to care about Kat so much?

Yes, the two of them were friends, but Emiliana was friends (Well— colleagues!) with Inspector Hastings and she had no qualms about insulting him!

Occasionally, Emiliana would bicker with her mamma— over how Emiliana worked too hard, or how Mamma could be so picky— but they would always make up afterwards…

Emiliana hadn’t irreparably ruined her relationship with Kat, had she?

The barking grew louder as Ernest led her across a landing. Emiliana gulped when they reached a door— Kat’s door— and Ernest knocked.

From inside, Kat called, “C-Coming!”

Kat (and Ernest) had no reservations about invading Emiliana’s office unannounced, so why should she feel intrusive visiting Kat’s home?

Kat even had a green ‘Welcome!’ mat, sitting slightly askew outside her door.

Emiliana didn’t feel very welcome as the door opened by a crack and, with a low growl, Sherl poked his snout out.

“Sherl,” Ernest chided. “Don’t be so rude! I invited her…”

The snout snorted at Emiliana.

Meanwhile, Kat had been fiddling with the door chain. She unlocked it and lifted Sherl up with a grunt. “Alright— your guard dog duties are no longer required!”

Kat fully opened the door. She looked flustered; sans top hat headband, her hair was tousled. Not to mention, there was a grouchy basset hound in her arms.

“Hi!” Kat gasped. She straightened up the ‘Welcome’ mat with her bare foot. “Welcome to my humble abode!”

“Va bene,” Emiliana replied, crossing her arms.

She stared at Kat. Kat stared back.

The silence between them was broken by Ernest stepping forward. “Should I take Sherl out, Miss?”

“Yes— thanks, Ernest.”

Sherl grumbled as Kat handed him over to Ernest. Turning to Emiliana, Ernest told her, “Sherl said he’s very sorry for his rudeness!”

Emiliana hummed dryly. “I didn’t know you spoke dog…”

To his credit, Ernest just gave her a content smile, before he carried Sherl downstairs.

“Do you want to— come in?” Kat said.

Unfolding her arms, Emiliana forced her feet forward. (Forza e coraggio!)

Walking past a cabinet with a mirror, Emiliana fought the urge to check her reflection. Her hair looked how it always did— how Kat always saw her— but after their misunderstanding at the cafe, Emiliana felt tempted to change her appearance so she wouldn’t resemble Mama Sandra as much.

Locking the door behind her, Kat hollered, “Please excuse the mess…”

Entering the front room, Emiliana saw Kat’s coat and hairband hanging off a wooden stand, a half-eaten bowl of choco-pops and a rolled-up newspaper on a table, a pale pillow and a fluffy blanket that had fallen off a green settee, and a slightly disordered bookshelf. (Granted, Kat didn’t have as many books as Emiliana, but it was still more than Emiliana had expected.)

Kat’s flat wasn’t that messy… just lived-in. Maybe even comfy.

Joining Emiliana in the front room, Kat gestured for her to take a seat.

The back of the settee was designed in a way that looked like Kat’s curls, Emiliana noticed, as she sat. She tried not to glance at Kat’s bouncy hair as Kat plonked down beside her.

There was nothing— special about being close to Kat like this. Wasn’t this a common thing among friends? Visiting each other’s homes?

Kat had picked up a yellow pillow. Hugging it against her chest, she began apologetically, “I told Ernest I wouldn’t be accepting any cases today—“

“I’m not here about a case!” (Emiliana hadn’t meant for that to come out so sharply…)

Kat blinked. “Oh?”

“I just need to— explain myself to you,” Emiliana gritted out, “after what happened at the cafe. I… Ernest said you were upset…”

“Oh,” Kat said again, more softly. She put the pillow down. “S-should I get us some tea?”

“Do you have any of that mint stuff?” (Emiliana was going to need it.)

As Kat nipped into the kitchen, Emiliana surveyed the dark blue mantelpiece facing the settee.

Above the mantelpiece— alongside an old radio and a lamp— were several framed photographs. In one of them, Emiliana saw a child-Kat and a teenage-Alfendi (His hair was a bolder shade of red…), with Professor Layton, Luke Triton and a young brown-haired woman.

There were other photos of other people Emiliana didn’t recognise…

“I have a big family!” Kat was back, clutching two cups of mint tea.

“That’s… good,” Emiliana murmured as Kat passed her a purple cup.

“So,” Kat said, returning to her seat.

“So…” Emiliana took a sip of tea, as if it could give her strength. She swallowed and started, “First of all… I shouldn’t have involved you and Ernest in that stakeout without informing you first—“

“We were fine!”

“I know,” Emiliana said. “I calculated the risks beforehand, and I knew you could handle it.“

Kat preened at her praise. “Thanks!”

Emiliana hid her face behind her cup. “Secondly, it was never my— my intention to deceive you or mock you when I was discussing the ‘Lonely Study Girl’ movie. I swear, Mama Sandra was there by complete coincidence… but still, I didn’t consider how the… content of that movie might be, er, sensitive for you.” She placed her cup in her lap and looked Kat in the eye. “I’m sorry.”

“N-no problem!” Kat exclaimed. (Clearly, she hadn’t expected an apology from Emiliana.) “I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did— it wasn’t very ladylike, was it?”

“No, it wasn’t…” Emiliana smiled. “But you don’t need to be ladylike all the time.”

“I try to be, for my dad…” Kat’s eyes became distant as she gazed at the photo with Professor Layton.

If Emiliana gripped the teacup any harder, it was going to shatter.

She had only just worked up the courage to apologise— how was she meant to console Kat?

Clearing her throat, Emiliana ventured, “Like you, I have no idea where my father is…”

Kat glanced at her with shock.

Emiliana was about to throw the hoe on her own feet, but she forged forward anyway.

“…However, unlike you, I do not miss my father. I never knew him. I never needed him. My mamma— my mother— and our family are more than enough.” She sighed. “But just because I don’t care about my father doesn’t mean you shouldn’t care. I-I’m sure Professor Layton was a good dad…”

“He was,” Kat whispered. “I mean— he is. He could just be absent-minded.”

Professor Layton wasn’t the only one! Emiliana’s mentor constantly had his head amongst the clouds. Once, he had left seven-year-old Emiliana in his car by mistake.

There were far worse crimes…

Kat had gone quiet again.

“Kat…” Emiliana hedged. “Do you live alone?”

“N-not really!” Kat laughed. “I have Sherl, and sometimes my older sister, Flora comes to stay…” Kat pointed to the brown-haired woman in the family photo.

“And did your siblings look after you, while your— while you were growing up?”

“Of course! My Grandma Rosa was there too, and my aunts and uncles…”

“Che sollievo,” Emiliana murmured. It didn’t sound like Kat had been passed from relative to relative, or made to feel like a nuisance.

“What about you?” Kat returned.

“I live alone, yes— but not far from Scotland Yard. It’s actually nice to get away from the trambusto…” Emiliana clicked her fingers until she found the word. “…From the bustle the end of the day.”

Still, it could get lonely sometimes. Emiliana was glad whenever Mamma came over for a ‘girl’s night’, or if Nonna flew in for a visit.

“And can I ask—“ Kat enquired hesitantly, “—have you always lived in England?”

“I grew up mostly in England,” Emiliana confirmed, “but I was born in Italy—“

“Ooooh! What part of Italy? I bet it’s so lovely there, with all the food, the weather, the history, the culture, and the food….”

Emiliana chuckled. “It is lovely!”

Kat kicked her legs against the settee with excitement. She shuffled closer to Emiliana. “Tell me more! Come on— allez! Wait, that’s French…!”

“Va bene,” Emiliana sighed. She hadn’t come here to spit the toad out regarding her family history, but if that would make Kat happy… Then so be it.

“I was born in Atranori, a village (though, it is considered a town these days) on the Amalfi Coast, in south-western Italy. It was a peaceful place, famous for its picturesque beaches and its prized lemon trees.

One day, the peace was disturbed by the arrival of a stranger in town.

This man was no ordinary tourist; he had the strangest hair, shaped like a bull’s horns, an equally sharp moustache, and a perpetual sneer—“

Kat hummed.

“What?” Emiliana grunted. (Here she was trying to be honest with Kat— sharing her life story or whatever it was close friends did— but Kat had interrupted her!)

“Nothing!” Kat shook her head and motioned to Emiliana. “Go on!”

“The man’s white shirt and tie indicated formality— perhaps he was of an academic or office career— but his dishevelled coat contradicted this.

He might very well have washed up on the sands of Atranori. The only bags he carried with him were the ones below his eyes.

Everyone in Atranori was wary of the interloper… except for a young woman who worked in a beauty salon. Her name was Bhamini Perfetti.

When the man wandered into her salon, Bhamini took pity on him. (Her mother had been in a similar situation years before, travelling all the way from India, until she’d met Bhamini’s father.)

Bhamini offered to give the man a makeover— tidying up his hair and his moustache. She would even throw in a facial!

He agreed, and he told her his name was Marco.

Marco was so grateful and so impressed by Bhamini’s work that he asked if he could take her out to dinner. Bhamini accepted.

So began the pair’s ‘whirlwind romance’; they would build sand castles on the beach, share pistachio ice cream, paint each other’s nails, browse records in the music shop, explore Atranori’s Roman ruins…

As the townspeople saw Marco spending time with Bhamini, they gradually lowered their guards around him. Marco was still considered eccentric, but how bad could he be, if he had captured Bhamini’s heart?

Several months into their relationship, Bhamini invited Marco to live with her.

Marco, having been residing above an old bar, jumped at the opportunity.

Their first night in the same house was filled with laughter and passion…

But when Bhamini awoke the next morning, she was very much alone.

Panicked, she searched the house, but in Marco’s absence, all she could find was a note. It read:

‘Tesoro mio,

I’m sorry to leave you, and I’m even sorrier to confess I have lied to you.

I’m not who I claimed to be, even though, for the first time ever, I felt like I could be myself when I was with you. Thank you for bringing out the the best in me.

I’m a wanted man, and I’m worried that if I stay here, I’ll bring you unwanted attention.

I’ll admit, I’ve taken some old jewellery from you— but just enough to buy my way out of Italy. I’ll pay you back every cent someday, I promise.

Once again, I’m sorry. You don’t need to forgive me.

Addio!’

Bhamini tore the letter to shreds as tears fell from her eyes. She had given all of her love to this man— this lying, swindling thief— only for him to break her heart and steal her possessions.

Soon, however, Bhamini would discover that he had left her with something far more precious—“

“You?” Katrielle gasped.

Emiliana nodded.

A squeak escaped from Katrielle. “I’ve heard a similar tale before! I know how this ends!”

Emiliana chose to humour Kat. “Okay…”

“Fifty years after your birth,” Kat recited, “your daughter will track down her grandfather, and your family will finally be reunited!”

“Per amor di Dio…” Emiliana rolled her eyes. “I thought we’d already established my life isn’t a movie!”

“It could still happen! The truth is always stranger than fiction!”

With a huff, Emiliana continued her story. “The truth is…”

“Bhamini, thankfully, had her own mother, her father and the rest of their family to fall back on.

Despite “Marco’s” duplicity, Bhamini vowed to raise her child with her whole heart— for it was not irreparably broken.

From the moment she felt the first kick… right up until she gave birth, Bhamini

knew nothing would ever rival the love she harboured for her daughter.

She named the girl “Emiliana” and chose to use her family’s last name, “Perfetti”.

Even as an infant, Emiliana was inquisitive. Much to her family’s amusement, she would inspect toys, food and objects with a thoughtful expression.

Propelled by curiosity, she learned to crawl, walk and talk far faster than other children her age.

By the time she was in nursery, she was reading books that some university students would struggle with.

Her nonno proudly declared she was “Un genio!”— a genius—“

“I guessed that,” Kat scoffed, grinning.

Heat claimed Emiliana’s face. She coughed. “Anyway—“

“Little Emiliana also developed a love of movies (Everything except horror!)— with her favourites being from the mystery genre.

One afternoon, Bhamini was shocked when she came to collect Emiliana from her parents’ house; five-year-old Emiliana had been watching a psychological thriller about a wanted thief!

Emiliana tried to explain that she was following her favourite actress, Mamma Sandra, but the movie was rated VM18!

Far too violent for Emiliana— no matter how mature she was for her age!

From then on, Bhamini would double-check any films her daughter chose, but Emiliana still had questions.

“Did you say my papà was a thief?”

“Yes,” Bhamini huffed (for she had never kept this a secret from Emiliana). “He was a liar, a swindler and a thief— and he left us before you were born.”

“Do you miss him?”

“Sometimes… but I have you, Emi. You are mio tesoro più grande.”

“…Can I finish watching that Mamma Sandra movie now?”

“After I’ve watched it on my own it first!”

Soon, Emiliana grew bored of her movies, her schoolwork and her books. She longed to help people and solve mysteries, like one of Mamma Sandra’s heroines.

Her opportunity arose when news spread throughout Atranori that someone was stealing from the town’s lemon groves.

While Bhamini’s back was turned, Emiliana ventured out to question her neighbours. Apparently, the police already had a suspect: a stranger who had driven through a red traffic light on his way into Atranori.

(Could this ‘stranger’ possibly be Emiliana’s thieving father? Had he returned, at long last?)

Emiliana went to visit the suspect at police headquarters— much to the amusement of the officers.

The suspect insisted he was not a thief, but a detective, and he has come to aid the townspeople after hearing about their plight.

His tone of voice, his eyes and his body language indicated he was telling the truth…

Emiliana decided to trust him, and she was determined to prove his innocence.

She set out, with the so-called detective in tow, to track down the true culprit.

The detective took drastic measures, like sneaking onto the lemon farms for a stakeout, while Emiliana was more level-headed, analysing any evidence they uncovered.

Finally, in front of the entire town, Emiliana revealed that the lemon thief was in fact… a rat. A greedy rat, stockpiling lemons in its burrow.

The rat was given a new home at Emiliana’s school, and the detective was freed from all charges.

The detective expressed his gratitude to Emiliana by gifting her a pocket notebook.

Before he could speed away in his car, leaving Atranori and Emiliana behind forever, Emiliana asked him—“

“Are you my FATHER?”

“Wha—? NO!” Emiliana pinched the bridge of her nose. “She— I asked— can I be your assistant?”

“Awww,” Kat cooed.

“The detective agreed, after my mamma agreed. We moved to England so I could investigate more cases with him.”

Kat breathed, “I know I’ve heard that story before…”

Of course she had; Emiliana’s experience mirrored that of a young Luke Triton, who had become Professor Layton’s apprentice. Layton and Luke had gone on many adventures together.

Professor Layton had also inspired Emiliana’s mentor to become a detective— Though he was far more impulsive and accident-prone!— so, some of Emiliana’s knowledge had been passed down from the Professor.

But Kat didn’t need to know that.

Rapidly, Emiliana concluded, “As I got older, I decided I wanted to work for the police. I studied psychology at university and then I became a criminal analyst at Scotland Yard. Fine della storia!”

“Then you met me!” Kat chimed in.

And my life has been a perfect storm ever since, Emiliana mused. Unpredictable, unprecedented,unrefined…

Exciting, congenial, cordial…

Finally, Emiliana had met someone who she felt comfortable opening up to— revealing the imperfect parts of herself and her family history…

Emiliana simply nodded.

“I don’t think you were entirely correct earlier,” Kat said, clutching her chin in her hand. “You do share some similarities with the ‘Lonely Study Girl’… like your love for your mother, and how you became a criminal analyst to find out what happened to your thieving father.”

“I don’t care what happened to him!” Emiliana growled. “My goal— if I’m ever given the chance— is to bring him to justice! But I’m not going to waste time hunting him down.”

She crossed her arms firmly. The sudden movement caused her to dislodge the cup in her lap. It fell onto Kat’s rug. Emiliana gasped.

“Mi— sorry!” She scrambled to pick up the cup.

“Don’t worry!” Kat crouched beside her. She took the purple cup from Emiliana’s hands. “You never know— your father might find his own way back to you!”

“I sincerely doubt that…” Standing up, Emiliana smoothed out her skirt. “Your dad is far more likely to come back.”

“I hope so…” Kat sighed.

Looking at Kat’s crumpled face, Emiliana realised she might have a way to console her after all.

“Some people at Scotland Yard might have given up on finding him, but I won’t,” Emiliana vowed. “If you get any leads, let me know, and I’ll help you as much as I can.”

“Th-thank you…” Kat whispered.

A smile pulled at her lips— one Emiliana had never seen on Kat. Usually, Kat wore a bright grin or a satisfied smirk. But this smile looked small, sad and lost.

Kat promised, “I’ll do the same for you.”

“You were driving at SIXTY MILES PER HOUR in a THIRTY ZONE!”

“With good reason—!”

“Hello?” Kat’s voice called from outside. “Is this a bad time…?”

Before Emiliana could reply, Kat breezed into her office— right into the middle an argument. (Emiliana really needed to get a lock for that door!)

“You should knock first, Kat,” Emiliana sighed from behind her desk. She shot a glare at her maverick mentor. “Non importa… We’re finished here—“

”Wait— did you say ‘Kat’?” Blue eyes widening, he looked between Emiliana and Kat. “As in ‘Katrielle Layton’?!”

Smiling, Kat held her hand over her heart. “That’s me! And you are—?”

“No one of relevance!” Emiliana interjected, leaping to her feet.

“Carmine Accidenti,” Carmine exclaimed (so quickly that Emiliana hoped Kat had misheard him). “I was your father’s student years ago— he’s the one who inspired me to become a detective— Emiliana, cosa stai facendo?”

Emiliana was shoving him out of her office. (The one time he wasn’t in a rush to leave…!)

“Pay your speeding fine!” she snapped, before she slammed the door on him.

Puffing, Emiliana turned to Kat. “You didn’t need to hear all of that…” Emiliana meant that partly as a rebuke, but Kat took it as an apology.

“It’s fine! You should hear me arguing with Alfendi…” Kat smirked. “Though, I never argued with my dadthat much—“

“He is not my father,” Emiliana grumbled.

“Father figure, then?” Kat teased.

“Non! Carmine is— was— my mentor—“

“And my dad was his mentor?” Kat deduced.

Emiliana gaped at her, caught out like a criminal during an interrogation.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Kat didn’t sound offended— Grazie al cielo!— just curious.

“I… I…” Emiliana foundered. She pressed her back against the door. She glanced around her office, searching for something to distract Kat with, but it was fruitless.

She removed her glasses, cleaned them on her sleeve for a few moments.

When she put her glasses back on, she realised Kat had crept closer.

Emiliana sighed deeply. “I suppose… I didn’t want you to have any… preconceived notions about me when we first met.”

“Hang on!” Kat said, pouting. “Weren’t you the one who underestimated me?”

Shamefully, Emiliana bowed her head. “I assumed you were a fraudulent detective, based on what I had heard… but, the more I thought about it, how could that be the case, when your father taught my mentor? What would that make me?” She peered up at Kat. “What would you make of me?”

“First impressions are rarely right,” Kat said knowingly. “We’re friends now, and that’s what matters!”

“That’s very wise,” Emiliana said, smiling with relief.

Then, Kat reached into her coat and pulled out a envelope, sealed with a waxy red ‘L’.

“Can I ask you a favour, Emiliana?”(Emiliana gestured for her to continue.) “I’ll be… leaving London tomorrow, but if I’m not back within a week, please give this letter directly to Alfendi and Lucy—“

“Why? Where are you going?”

Kat beckoned her closer. She whispered in Emiliana’s ear, “Southampton… I’ve finally found a leadlinked to Dad’s disappearance—“

“I’ll go with you!” Emiliana gasped, knocking heads with Kat.

“Ow…” Kat winced. “Thanks, but I need someone I can trust to pass this letter on to Al—“

“Why can’t you tell him yourself?” Emiliana rubbed her head. “Or call him?”

“I don’t want to let him down if this is another false lead.” Kat glanced out of the office window. “He’s been doing so…. well lately… I won’t ruin that for him by dragging him out on a wild goose chase—“

“We— he’ll have to go after you if you put yourself in danger,” Emiliana pointed out through clenched teeth.

Kat handed her the letter. “This is just a backup plan— I’ll be fine! Sherl and Ernest will protect me!”

“Are you sure you can trust ‘Ernest’?”

Emiliana was embarrassed she hadn’t seen through Ernest’s— or rather, Miles Richmond’s— act sooner.

He’d really believed the Seven Dragons had stolen his family’s fortune, and he really did care about Kat— but that was no excuse for Emiliana, the ‘genius analyst’!

She’d been tempted to resign for her post, but then, she still needed to help Kat…

Kat was frowning. (Emiliana had never seen such a serious expression on her!)

“I trust Ernest with my life… and I trust you will give this letter to my brother if I don’t return.”

“Bene allora,” Emiliana conceded. She slipped the letter into her blazer. “You have my word.”

“Thank you…” For a few seconds, Kat hesitated. Then she added, “If you see Alfendi… tell him— tell him I said… ‘I love you’, okay?”

“Okay,” Emiliana whispered. And, because she was a coward, she said, “Ti voglio un mondo di bene, Kat.”

“What does that mean?” Kat breathed.

Emiliana gave her the literal translation,

“I wish the best for you,” but it meant more than that.

Kat meant far more to her than Emiliana would ever admit.

Professor Hershel Layton and Luke Triton had been cryogenically frozen in a cathedral for the past eleven years, until Kat had freed them.

Instead of waiting for her father and her uncle to wake up in hospital, Kat had rushed off to find the man responsible for all of this.

And Layton— rather than chasing after Kat— had found time to stop at Scotland Yard for some files!

“What are you doing HERE?” Emiliana barked when she caught Layton and Luke rooting through the archives. (She didn’t care that she was addressing the Professor Layton— Kat’s father— they needed to help Kat!)

“Please excuse us,” the Professor said in a polite but hurried tone, “we require some files— it’s urgent—“

“Urgent?” Emiliana repeated angrily. She stabbed her finger at Layton.

Luke shuffled away from them with his nose in a file.

“Your daughter has gone to confront your captor—“ Emiliana spelled it out to him “—after waiting eleven years for you to come home— and you think this is urgent?”

It felt like Kat’s letter was burning a hole in Emiliana’s blazer. Why hadn’t Emiliana informed Alfendi sooner? Why had she waited until Kat‘s life could be at stake?

Layton, in his infuriatingly calm way, tried to explain, “Our captor is an astronomer. We’re looking for any information that could—“

“I will find that information for you! You need to catch up to Kat!” Emiliana grabbed a file off a shelf and started speed-reading.

Luke said, “Thank you, Miss—“

“GO!”

Sometimes, one needed to be impulsive.

Emiliana waited a week— giving Professor Layton time to catch up with his family— before she called Carmine with the good news:

After eleven long years, Professor Layton was finally home!

Within an hour, Carmine was outside Scotland Yard, honking his car horn.

Emiliana scolded him as she entered the car, “You’re in a staff parking space— Accidenti!” She cursed when he hit the accelerator.

“Rallentare!” She slammed the car door as he sped way. “Professor Layton isn’t going anywhere…”

“Let’s hope not!” Carmine quipped. He glanced at her, smiling as she put on her seatbelt. “So, you helped the Professor with his research to stop the villain—?”

“When you say ‘villain’, you make it sound like a fairytale,” Emiliana muttered. If they had been in a fairytale, Emiliana would have confessed her feelings for Kat after Aldebaran’s fall…

But no; Layton had waxed poetic about how Aldebaran had ‘planted the seed that would save the world’ and Kat had deemed him an ‘unsung hero’— just like ‘brandy kneaded into a plum cake’.

(Qualunque coda significhi!)

After that, they had all returned to London. Kat had reunited with her family and Emiliana with hers, separately.

Mamma had said it was fine if Emiliana wanted to join her friends, but Emiliana hadn’t wished to intrude.

Surely Kat would rather spend some time alone with her family… with Ernest there too.

But Ernest was different— he was an orphan, so of course Kat would invite him along. No doubt, the Laytons had already embraced him as one of their own!

Would they mind Emiliana dropping by today with Carmine?

Carmine was just pulling up at the end of Chancer Lane. He hit the curb as he parked the car, but Emiliana was too perturbed to chide him.

“Here we are!” Carmine said, pointing out the window at the Layton Detective Agency’s storefront.

He opened the door on his side and got out. Emiliana stayed in her seat.

“Emiliana, vieni anche tu?” Carmine poked his head back inside the car.

“Tu va’, io aspetto qui,” she replied stiffly, sticking to Italian in case Kat and Co overheard. (Unless Ernest was there, then he would translate everything and they could all mock Emiliana!)

Carmine frowned with concern. “Perché?”

Emiliana mumbled, “Non hai bisogno di me…”

Kat didn’t need Emiliana anymore. Professor Layton was home. He could help Kat with her cases now— far better than Emiliana ever had done.

“Sei il mio assistente,” Carmine said wryly.

Emiliana argued, “Non più—!”

“Not anymore,” Carmine agreed, in clear English. “Now, you’re Emiliana Perfetti, Scotland Yard’s genius criminal analyst. You’ve solved countless cases— many of them with Katrielle Layton!” He smiled softly. “I’m sure she would be most disappointed if you didn’t show your face—“

“Shhhh!” Emiliana hissed, flushing. “Va bene, va bene— I’ll go with you.”

As she exited the car, she added, “I’m only where I am today because I had a decent mentor.”

Carmine snorted as they made their way over to the detective agency.

Their knocks at the door were answered by Ernest, who announced their arrival to everyone inside.

Luke Triton had been crouched next to Sherl’s dog bed, but he stood up as Emiliana and Carmine came in.

“Nice to see you again?” Luke sounded uncertain. Emiliana gave him a reassuring nod.

Sherl didn’t growl— he just grumbled at them.

Professor Layton had been sitting on the settee, reading a book. His eyes widened when he saw Emiliana and Carmine.

“Hello, Emiliana… and Carmine, it’s been too long!” Smiling, he also stood up.

Kat, who was in her usual seat, spun around. She beamed at Emiliana. “Is that you, Emiliana? It’s been a whole week!”

A long week…

Emiliana smirked slightly in return. “How did you survive without me…?” Her retort was halfhearted, however.

Emiliana glanced at Carmine. He was

already surging across the room to shake the Professor’s hand and ask him a dozen questions.

While the two of them chatted, Kat got up and approached Emiliana.

“I need to tell you something,” Kat murmured. Emiliana gulped.

Ignoring Ernest, Luke and Sherls’ curious stares, she followed Kat through a door at the back of the agency.

Was this it?

When they were alone together in a small kitchen— just when Emiliana thought she was about to burst with tension— Kat blurted out, “We might know who your father is!”

Emiliana deflated. “What?”

Upon hearing Emiliana’s description of ‘Marco’, Kat had gotten a hunch.

She had shared this hunch with Professor Layton and he had agreed— ‘Marco’ sounded familiar.

When the Professor learned Emiliana’s mentor was none other than Carmine Accidenti, that had cinched it.

Years ago, over a decade before Kat was even born, Professor Layton had gained an arch-nemesis…

A self-proclaimed nemesis, all because Layton ‘stole’ the affections of a young woman from him.

This man swore to get revenge, bore a grudge for ten years, and tried to foil Layton on several occasions— always failing.

He and Layton did come to a truce during the ‘Future London’ affair, when they teamed up to defeat a greater enemy.

Following this were a few years of peace between the pair… until, one day, the man asked for Layton’s help in locating his lost daughter and her mother.

“I started looking into his request,” Professor Layton explained, when Emiliana and Kat came to talk to him in the front room, “but I had to stop when I discovered Carmine had brought you and your mother to England—“

“He didn’t bring us here,” Emiliana objected. “I asked to join him as his assistant— and Mamma came with us!” Carmine nodded in agreement.

“Apologies,” the Professor said, “but I feared your father would blame Carmine for ‘stealing you away’. I didn’t want to put Carmine, you or your mother at risk.”

The Professor frowned at Emiliana. “Your father has responded… adversely to what he perceived as rejection in the past—“

“Dad has personal experience,” Kat interposed.

“Thank you, Kat,” the Professor sighed. “Yes, I’ll confess that due to personal experience, I thought it best to keep the truth hidden from your father, and I halted my investigations. He took this as an offence—“

“—And he returned to his old ways,” Luke said, with a grim smile.

Emiliana hummed. “Let me guess… Lying, swindling, thieving—“

“Golly!” Ernest piped up, as he popped in to pour everyone some tea.

“And kidnapping!” Luke added. “He trapped me at the British Museum—“

“When was this?” Carmine asked, looking from Luke, to Layton, to Emiliana, to Kat.

“Sorry— I’m having trouble keeping up…”

“Kat was ten at the time,” the Professor clarified. “I allowed him— Emiliana’s father— to escape, and we were able to free Luke—“

“What was his name?” Emiliana demanded.

“Don Paolo!” Luke declared.

The Professor amended, “Paul was the name he went by during our time at Gressenheller…”

The Professor went to grab something from his trunk. He returned with a near-faded photo of a university class.

Emiliana recognised Hershel Layton as a young adult in the front row. (Was this before he’d gotten his top hat?)

Layton was smiling next to an older bearded man— his archaeology professor, perhaps?

Behind them was a figure in a pale pink blazer with a white shirt. This man’s smile was strained and off-putting. His piggy eyes were aimed at Layton and their archaeology professor.

His flat brown hair reached his shoulders, but he was balding on top of his head. He had a dark goatee and a moustache beneath his long nose.

Emiliana scowled. At a stretch, she could say her hair was a similar colour to his…

But the resemblances ended there.

Could this man— Paul/Don Paolo— really be her father?

Professor Layton let her borrow the photo to show her mamma.

At first, Mamma’s face froze— her brown eyes widening. Then, they became filled with rage. Her lips trembled.

Fearing Mamma would tear up the photo, Emiliana took it back.

“That’s him,” Mamma confirmed in a hiss— or it might have been a sigh. “Marco.”

“I’m surprised you recognised him,” Emiliana noted, impressed. (Don Paolo had been a master ofdisguise!)

“I could never forget…” Mamma caught Emiliana’s hands, crushing the photo between them. “What are you planning, Emi? Please, don’t go chasing him down! He’s not worth it…!”

“But you are,” Emiliana whispered. She squeezed her mother’s hands. “He lied to you, stole from you and left. I need set things right.”

Mamma sniffled. She tried to tuck a frizzy curl behind Emiliana’s ear, but it instantly sprang back out. “Tesoro mio,” Mamma murmured.

Atranori had changed a lot in the years since Emiliana had left, but the old bar had mostly remained the same— just down the road from Mamma’s former salon.

At first, Emiliana had planned to travel alone, but Kat had insisted on joining her, and of course Ernestcouldn’t bear to leave Miss Layton’s side, and then (much to Emiliana’s relief) Professor Layton had offered to them chaperone them, and Luke— as the Professor’s apprentice— came along too.

(Sherl, thankfully, had been left on the care of Alfendi, who had called the hotel several times to make sure Layton and Kat were safe.)

The five of them entered the bar. Emiliana led the way, though her heart was hammering in her chest.

Professor Layton indicated to a dark-haired man perched on a barstool, far away from the other patrons. The man had his back to them, his head bent over a beer as if he hoped to find a better life at the bottom of the bottle.

Emiliana glanced around at her companions. She received a thumbs-up from Luke, an encouraging nod from Layton, and a bright smile from Ernest.

Kat placed her hands to Emiliana’s shoulders and pushed her forward.

Emiliana tapped the man on the back as he took a swig of his drink. “Excuse me,” Emiliana muttered, in English.

“Hm?” He turned his head to her. His dark eyes bulged. He spat out his drink, narrowly avoiding Emiliana’s scowling face. “Y-you…!” Don Paolo spluttered.

(Had he noticed the resemblance between Emiliana and her mamma?)

“I,” Emiliana announced, “am Emiliana Perfetti, daughter of Bhamini Perfetti. I am twenty-two years old. I was born in this town, and I stayed here until the age of five, when I moved to London with my amazing mamma and my detective-mentor…”

Still gaping, Don Paolo looked past Emiliana— at Layton and Luke.

“L-Layton?” he gasped. “And Luke? You’re alive?”

“I now work at Scotland Yard,” Emiliana went on, “as a criminal analyst—“

“She’s a genius!” Ernest crowed.

Emiliana’s father— Don Paolo— returned his attention to her. “So… what? Are you here to arrest me?”

“Consider yourself lucky…” Emiliana levelled him with a glare. “I don’t have permission to make arrests abroad— without reason.“

“I won’t give you any reason,” Don Paolo said, holding up his hands. “I’ve retired from my criminal ways— though, I retain the title of ‘genius scientist’.”

Overhearing this, Kat cried, “Like father, like daughter!”

Emiliana felt her face flare up. She bit the inside of her cheek.

“Is that Layton’s kid— his youngest?” Don Paolo muttered.

Nodding, Emiliana replied in a low voice, “She’s twenty-one…”

Don Paolo raised his brows. “About the same age as you, then! Are you two rivals? Friends? Or—“

Before he could continue, Emiliana called the others over.

As Layton and Luke regaled Don Paolo with the details of their ‘mystery journey’— while Ernest ordered them all some drinks from the counter— Emiliana stood back with Kat.

“Grazie mille, Kat,” Emiliana said quickly. “I never would have tracked him down without your help…”

“Did you really mean what you said—“ Kat wondered, “about not being able to arrest him?”

“Yes— even if I could, I don’t think that I would…”

What would be the point, all these years later? Emiliana wouldn’t gain any satisfaction from seeing her father in a cell— and neither would Mamma…

At least Emiliana had finally found him, just as Kat had found her dad.

Kat chuckled. “Careful, Emiliana! Your soft side is showing—“

“I’m not soft!” Emiliana protested. “It’s just protocol…”

Kat hummed hopefully. “Would protocol permit you to take me out to dinner later?”

“I think, for you, I can make an exception,” Emiliana said, smiling and blushing even more.

Kat beamed. The two of them leaned their heads together—

“Are you two DATING?” Don Paolo cried, cutting off the kiss. He turned to Kat’s dad and demanded, “Layton, are our daughters DATING?”

To Emiliana and Kat, Luke mouthed, “Good luck!”

“If they get MARRIED, YOU’RE going to have to fork out for the WEDDING, Layton! I’M saving up to pay my ex-girlfriend back…!”

“D-did I miss something?” Ernest had returned from the other end of the bar counter, carrying a tray of drinks.

Kat gave Emiliana a quick peck on the cheek. “Keep up, Ernest!” Kat said lightly. “I was just making dinner plans with Emiliana… but before that, why don’t we all visit that ‘Museum of Cinema’ you saw earlier?”

Much to Emiliana’s relief, Ernest smiled at the both of them.

“That sounds perfect, Miss.”

#professor layton #lmj #layton’s mystery journey #Lmj anime #emiliana perfetti #katrielle layton #kat/Emiliana #Katriana #Ernest Greeves #my fics #my writing #Don Paolo #hershel layton #carmine accidenti #luke triton #pl ocs

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jade-escobar · 8 months ago

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Wedding Bell Blues | Fadrigo

Featuring: Jade Clark, Frankie King, Emiliana Escobar, Jewel Clark; with Jeanette Shapiro, Fletcher Van Hall & Rodrigo Escobar Location: WildBride Bridal Shop; San Francisco, CA Time Frame: 2 weeks before the big day Notes: Jade has her final fitting for the wedding, and things don't go as anticipated.

JADE

Jade was standing inside one of the spacious dressing rooms receiving help from one of the shop employees for her final fitting. In a little over 1 week, she would be marrying Rodrigo. Each time the thought of this made the butterflies flutter inside her all over again. She was standing in the shoes, garter belt and underwear she intended to wear for the day of, and held the silicone bra inserts to her chest while the shop assistant held the gown for her to step into. With the utmost care, Jade took one step and then another and stood still as the assistant raised the gown and helped her thread her arms through the sleeves. The reality that she would be walking down the aisle in this gown very soon was hitting her even more as she stood in front of the mirror, holding still as the assistant did up each button and unbustled the delicate train. She'd been caught up in the moment until the assistant asked, "Ready to show your family?" to which Jade jolted out of her own wandering thoughts and returned the present, saying, "Yes," with a huge smile. Holding the front of the gown with one hand, she drew the curtain back and stepped out of the dressing room and onto the podium in front of where Frankie, Jewel and Emiliana were seated.

EMILIANA & FRANKIE

Emiliana had brought an uncrustable for a Jewel to munch on as Jade tried on her wedding dress. The young girl finished her snack and wiped her fingers clean. “Thanks, Emi. Do you think Jade will be ready soon?” And right on queue, Frankie poked their head out the boutique shop door and asked Emiliana and Jewel to come inside. They both practically squealed and went in just in time to catch Jade step out. Frankie already had tears in their eyes and they wiped them with her tissues, mindful to pass the box over to Emiliana. “Oh mija!” Emiliana burst into tears and Frankie rubber her shoulders. Jewel looked awestruck, a giant smile forming on her face upon seeing her sister. Frankie finally broke the silence, her hands on her chest. “You’re the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen!” To which Emiliana agreed wholeheartedly. The oldest of the three, stood up to make sure every thread was in place. “Rodrigo won’t know what hit him, querida.” Jewel giggles and took her sister’s hand in hers to look into the mirror with her. “You look so pretty !”

JADE & JEANETTE

Jade stood in front of Frankie and smiled at her best friend, watching them go to get her sister and future mother-in-law. She had an inexplicable nervousness fluttering inside of her but it was snuffed out by the deep blushing the moment Emiliana and Jewel saw her and reacted. The tears from Frankie and Emiliana were threatening to make her own eyes misty. "Thank you, Frankie," she replied, cheeks still very warm. She glanced down at herself as Emiliana carefully inspected the garment, and then she looked to her little sister. "Thank you, Jewel. I can't wait to see you all dressed up for the big day too." She smiled more as Jewel beamed up at her. Jewel then added, "You look like you should be in a magazine!" Before Jade could respond appreciatively, a slightly distant voice shrewdly cut in, "Yes, and the headline would be Top Backstabbing Daughters in the US." Jade's once blushing face quickly went cold and ashen, feeling like all the blood fled her face and dropped to her feet. Jeanette was standing stiffly near a rack of hanging veils, one hand the strap of on her crossbody bag and the other propped on her hip. Her icy gaze was set on her daughter. "Hello, Jadey-kins," she said with none of the affected ever truly intoned.

EMILIANA & FRANKIE

When she heard the other voice, Emiliana tried to guard Jewel and Jade, her arms spread out as if they would protect them. Frankie stood their ground as well in case they needed to fling a punch or several. "Oh no, lady you have to go." Frankie announced and decided in that moment not to make a big dramatic mess of things just yet This was Jade's moment and Frankie didn't want that ruined although they had an inkling that was Jeanette's purpose. "Jeanette, please leave or I will call the authorities. You have no business here. If you were a mother at all, you'd understand that." Emiliana was ready to call a few people including her son and had already made up her mind that her brothers would be hearing about this. "Jade, you don't have to answer her, honey..." Jewel was hugging Jade's side, not knowing what was going on but she wouldn't leave her sister and the older two had decided the same.

JEANETTE & JADE

Jade felt like a mouse staring down a viper. Her once confident and buoyant demeanor had fled her entirely. No part of her expected or had reason to anticipate seeing her mother in the bridal shop. And although she heard Emiliana say that she didn't have to answer her, Jade couldn't stop herself from quietly asking, "W-what are you doing here?" She felt Jewel come up to her side and hug her; Jade automatically put an arm around the young girl but her fingers were trembling against her sister. Jeanette ignored Frankie and briefly cut her icy gaze to Emiliana. "Go ahead. I'll be gone before they get here." Her eyes slid back to Jade as she said, "And contrary to that feeble dig, I am her mother. She can deny me and take in whatever so-called 'chosen family' she wants but she can't deny or erase any part of her DNA." Her eyes narrowed a bit as she stepped closer, "I just want my precious daughter to know I don't appreciate being cut out of her life. That restraining order was dramatic at the least and grossly offensive at best." She stepped to the side, giving herself mor of a clear path to Jade while going on to say, "I raised you. Not your father and not any of these people. It's because of me that you excelled in your academics. It's because I pushed you that you learned how to speak more than just English, how to sing, dance, play piano, violin, how to compete and win." She crept a bit closer while her hand stayed on her crossbody bag. "It's because of me that you know how to manage your weight to even fit into a dress like that. And this is how you thank me? A TRO And a wedding to nobody? I guess I can thank you for not inviting me but really--how dare you make plans to go through with any of this after all I've done for you!"

Even though Jeanette hadn't raised her voice, her outrage reached a fever pitch. With a hand shoved into her bag, she charged at Jade and yanked her hand out of her bag, tearing the top off of a bottle and flinging its entire dark content across the front and side of Jade's ivory gown. "You selfish little bitch!" she spat, throwing the now empty bottle at Jade and sending a few flecks across the bottom of the gown. Jade gasped and jerked back, accidentally stepping on the train and tripping. In an effort to catch herself while also trying not to bring Jewel down with her, she doubled the firmness of her stance as best as possible, only to end up hearing a loud tear from where she stepped. Her heart was beating loud in her ears and while the shock was still raw and the reality of what just happened to her drss hadn't sunk in yet, her mind was currently focused on keeping Jewel safe.

FRANKIE & EMILIANA

Emiliana took immediate offense at Jeanette calling her son a nobody but she also knew how to pick her battles. This woman was unhinged. She called out to the employees to call 911, not caring about the rest of the woman's rant, and stayed as close as possible. It happened so fast. One moment Emiliana was trying to cover Jewel and Jade and the next, Jade was tripping over her dress and the two were on their way down. She reached for both their hands, getting some of what had already spilled all over Jade's gown onto herself but only caring about their well-being. She pulled them up and then brought them to her frame to embrace them. "Get her out of here!" "Oh hell no!" Frankie stepped in without skipping a beat and pulled Jeanette's hair intending to take her away from the scene. "What the fuck is your problem, lady?" Frankie looked over their shoulder to try to check in on Frankie but also keep her grip on Jeanette's hair. "You're going to jail. You are so fucking done!" Frankie was ready to pounce on the woman but didn't want to end up in jail. With one free hand, Frankie texted both Rodrigo and Fletcher to let them know Jeanette had showed up. If they got away somehow before the cops got there, there was enough evidence to get her out of Jade's life. Frankie looked around for cameras, glad to see them. "Is she okay? Jade?" Frankie called out, tightening the grip on a struggling Jeanette.

JADE

The shop assistant who helped Jade into her dress had stepped away to take a call for the shop, but returned at the sound of the commotion. Her eyes went wide seeing all she'd seen: in addition to the vehement words, one of the bride's family members had a newcomer by the hair while the mother of the groom was standing protectively in front of the little girl and the bride, who, to the employee's horror, now had a large, dark brown stain seeped into her wedding gown with flecks of the same brown color at the hem. She was ready to rush over to...she didn't know what, exactly, but the mother of the groom was calling out for 911 to be called. The assistant hurried off back to the phone at her prompting, glancing back once. Jade steadied herself and squeezed Emiliana's hand. She was trying not to get whatever was now stained into her dress on Emiliana while her future mother-in-law embraced her and Jewel. Carefully, politely and a little shakily, she ducked out of Emiliana's hold and looked to Frankie and Jeanette. Jeanette was thrashing swearing through her demands to be let go, entirely unsuccessful given Frankie's grip on her hair. "I'm okay," she lied, turning away to check on Jewel. Jewel was frowning deeply and clutching both Jade and Emiliana. "Jewel, honey, it's going to be okay. I promise," she whispered, knowing neither Jewel nor Jett had ever been exposed to Jeanette. Jade herself had been rattled by her mother showing up and everything that transpired thereafter but her concern at the moment was her little sister. Her phone was in the dressing room or else she would call Jasper and their dad but for the time being, she tried to drown out her mother’s non-stop protests and insults. "It’s going to be okay," she continued to whisper, squeezing Jewel's shoulders. "Your mom is..." Jewel hesitated, but Jade was sure she could fill in the blank. "I know," she whispered back, but Jewel, who was tearing up, said, "Your dress!"

Jade was trying not to look at the damage done, even though she felt the liquid hit her dress. All she could bring herself to say at the time was, "I'm not worried about it," which was a lie too. "I just want to make sure you're okay, and that my mom doesn't hurt you or Frankie or Emiliana, okay?" She hadn't included herself in that and really hoped Frankie was okay and that the police would be here soon.

FRANKIE & EMILIANA

Frankie was glad to hear from their best friend but it didn’t calm them at all. The only reassurance they had was that Emiliana had her and Jewel. Frankie would make sure Jeanette wouldn’t get close to them. Holding on to the woman’s hair, Frankie pulled a little harder the more she tried to protest and dig into her arms. “Try it. I will sue so hard you’ll be licking the floor for nutrition, I promise.” Emiliana looked down at the gown, completely in disbelief at what just happened. She wanted to get her hands on Jeanette but Frankie had it under control and someone had to be a matriarch. “It’s okay. The cops will be here soon. It’ll be okay.” She tried to reassure Jade and Jewel. “I text Fletcher and Rodrigo too.” Frankie once again tightened her grip the moment Jade’s mother tried to claw her again. “Lady, I am seconds away from— Jesus Christ, Fletcher. Thank God.” Emiliana was more than happy to see the younger man. “Hola hijo…” she frowned and looked around as if trying to paint a story for the other.

JADE & FLETCHER

Jade wanted to get out of the gown, to not even look at the damage done to it. She very nearly asked Jewel to go in the dressing room and help her, but at the reminder from Emiliana that the cops were coming, she didn't know if they would need to see her in it or what the protocol would be. She just wanted Jewel to be safe and know that her little sister was okay. Her own adrenaline had her still shaking and hearing her mother still bad-mouthing Frankie, cursing her and the wedding, and demanding to be let go kept her rooted where she was. At hearing Fletcher's name, Jade's gaze snapped up.

Fletcher's eyes swept the scene, brows sloped low. He saw a bit of Jade's ruined dress and, knowing Emiliana had whatever was going with her under control, went to Frankie to pry the wild woman's fingernails from Frankie's arm and wrenched her hands behind her and up towards the middle of her back. "Get your hands off me!" Jeanette demanded, trying to throw her weight to get Fletcher to release her. "Sure, just as soon as the cops get here," Fletcher coolly replied. And as soon as she kicked her feet out and nearly caught Frankie with her shoe-clad foot, Fletcher used her momentum against her and forced her to the ground, still holding her hands to the middle of her back. Ignoring the woman, he looked over his shoulder to Frankie, "You okay?" He looked to Emiliana and nodded, "Hi," listening for Frankie's response while sternly grimacing at the look on Emiliana's face. He hated seeing her so upset but if the glimpse of Jade's dress was anything to go off of, Rodrigo was going to hit the roof. "Anyone have an ETA on the cops?" he asked, pressing Jeanette's hands further against her back to keep her pinned. She tried kicking her feet back in hopes of making contact with Fletcher but she missed. Glaring, he told her, "Lady, I'm telling you right now, if you kick me, I'm gonna kick you back and I promise you it'll hurt worse and I don’t give a fuck who you are. I'm not the one."

FRANKIE & RODRIGO

Frankie was glad that Fletcher had arrived to handle Jeanette. The woman was a beast and must be removed from the shop immediately. It was bad enough she had ruined Jade's dress, their best friend didn't need her cruel words too. Frankie skipped over Jeanette's feet just in time. They looked over their shoulder and grilled the woman before looking up at Fletcher and nodding. "I'm fine." They held up a clump of hair in front of Jeanette's face. "But can't say the same about your hair. I'll use this to my advantage, thanks." Frankie stuffed the clump into her bag, smirking at Fletcher's words. Frankie walked over to her best friend and held her in their arms. "They should be here shortly, Fletcher. You know how it is, hijo." Emiliana frowned, trying not to look at Jeanette and holding Jewel in the process. The sirens were music to her ear and soon enough two officers stepped inside to examine the scene. "Good afternoon, I'm officer Morgan and this is my partner, officer Bradshaw. We received a call about a disturbance. "Yeah you got that right, her name is Jeanette that would be J-E-A-N--" Frankie was cut off by Emiliana. "Honey, stay with Jade, it's okay. Yes, this woman here cme and attacked my daughter-in-law and assaulted Frankie over there...this is my son, he's trained so he came to assist until you showed up. We didn't want her to get away..." "Mr. Escobar?" Jewel looked up from Emiliana's embrace. "Hi... what the fuck is going on here?"

FLETCHER & JADE

Fletcher raised both brows at the sight of the hair Frankie was holding. He fought his reaction to whistle low and instead looked back to the woman he had pinned to the ground, noticing the small bald patch amidst all the otherwise formerly styled brunette hair. He shook his head, impressed and astounded the woman had any fight left in her after having a chunk of her hair ripped out so close to her roots. Jade was grateful for Emiliana and Frankie being there and comforting her and Jewel. She watched Jewel lean trustfully into Emiliana's side and then carefully stood to her own full but short height. When the officers showed up, Jade felt relief wash over her. They could all finally share what had happened. There could be more distance set between her mother and everyone else who had been there for her. And she might finally be able to get out of the dress and... and what? She and Rodrigo were getting married soon and she no longer had a dress. For the first time, Jade lowered her head and looked at the damage done. The dark brown stains were deeply set in the white fabric of the bodice and the upper part of the skirt, flecks of various sizes were splattered along the hem. When she twisted around and looked back, she saw that she'd accidentally stepped on and ripped the train. Tears filled Jade's eyes as she thought about the irreparable damage and the fact that she no longer had something to wear to her own wedding. She wasn't listening to Frankie or Emiliana recounting the situation to the police. Her mind was reeling, unsure of what she was going to do, all amidst hoping that Frankie was okay, that Jewel was okay; that her mother hadn't harmed Fletcher too, and that Emiliana was okay.

And then Jewel's voice cut through her thoughts. Mr. Escobar? she thought, glancing up. Even with tears blurring her vision, she could make out her fiance's familiar form. And while she wanted to run right into his arms, her heart sank into the pit of her stomach.The tradition of not seeing her dress before the wedding no longer mattered but she saw how terrible her dress now looked from her angle. She could only imagine how it looked from everyone else’s view. Barely keeping herself together, Jade grabbed a handful of her dress and train and hurried to the fitting room where she burst into tears, trembling hands covering her face. Meanwhile, Fletcher had released Jeanette to one of the two officers who detained her with handcuffs. As he massaged his palms, he walked over to Rodrigo who had newly been tackle-hugged by Jewel. “Your future mother-in-law’s worse than I thought.” He shook his head and then said, “You should go check on your girl though. I’m sure the cops’ll want a statement from her too, but…Jesus, what a fucked up sack of shit her so-called mom is.” He’d seen the dress and he knew this was supposed to be a happy occasion, maybe even a fun one for Jade. And in no time at all, it had been ruined.

RODRIGO

Rodrigo spent a lot of his time observing. It was something he was known to do. He was a loner in high school and a loner in college. He worked, came home, worked, came home. His best friend was Fletcher. They spent a considerable amount of time together and that was good enough for him. They were similar in so many ways. When they both got mad, it wasn't a pretty picture. Rodrigo tried to keep his anger at bay but it didn't mean he wouldn't get angry ever. When he met Jade, he was glad he had found the Ying to his Yang. She was kind, selfless, and one of the best people he's ever met. Those were just some of the reasons why he fell in love with her. So when he walked in and he observed and he put together a picture of what had happened to his kind and beautiful wife-to-be, he saw nothing but red. He spotted Jade. She was usually the one that centered him but she wouldn't even look at him in the eye. And that's when he knew. He was going to kill her mother. "I swear to God..." He murmured under clenched teeth. He massaged the back of Jewel's head and then quickly crouched down to meet her at eye-level. "Did she hurt you? She touch you?" Jewel shook her head and Rodrigo cupped her face before checking in on Frankie and his mother. "Todo bien, mama? Esa bruja te toco?" Emiliana also shook her head. Frankie looked sad and was silent. He tenderly squeezed their shoulder. When Fletcher gave him the quick run-down, he felt his blood boil, his gaze shifting toward the dressing room. Jade was usually the one to center him but this time, he wasn't going to be so patient. This time he wasn't going to be so nice. He'd deal with that later though. He made sure Jewel went to Emiliana and then patted Fletcher's arm before walking toward the dressing room. "Jade, honey...I'm here. Please, can I come in? I just want to see your face. We will deal with everything else together. Please... honey."

FLETCHER & JADE

Fletcher could only fill Rodrigo in on what little he knew from his own observations and what Frankie had told him happened. But he was sure it wasn't hard for Rodrigo to piece everything else together. The bottle was still on the floor, Fletcher noticed when Jade had left her spot. He watched Rodrigo console Jewel before reconnecting the young girl with his mom. And after assuring Rodrigo that he had things taken care of out here with unspoken communication between the two brothers, he went to give his own statement to the police, telling them his recounting of what happened once he'd gotten there and his part in the situation. Jewel had hugged Rodrigo one more time before going to be with his mom. The shop assistant who had helped Jade into her dress had returned to the area, offering bottles of water to Emiliana, Jewel, Fletcher and Frankie.

In the dressing room, Jade had been sobbing and shaking. She'd felt lost and mortified; it was too overwhelming for her to be angry in that moment. Her face was flush, her make-up had run, and she'd barely found the small bench in the room to sit down when she heard Rodrigo just on the other side of the curtain. "I... look... u-ugly... right n-now..." she sobbed, sucking in tiny gasps in between each word. It was an irrational response, especially when she wanted desperately to be with Rodrigo right now. But her embarrassment and shame bested her own desire at that moment.

RODRIGO

“No. Never that, honey. You can never look ugly. You’re the most beautiful girl to me and you know what? I’m going to take care of you. Remember? There is nothing we cannot face together. “ he couldn’t stand hearing her like this. After all the work Jade had put in to feel good about herself and the trauma she had to work through, he couldn’t believe Jeanette would come back into their lives to do something so disgusting. Then again, yes, he could believe it and that made it worse. “Hey… listen… if you come out here, I will hold your hand and we can talk to the cops and then she will never bother us. We’ve got tons of witnesses and I’m sure there’s a video somewhere. We aren’t going to let her win. And you’re still going to be my blushing bride. I don’t care what we are wearing. I just want to marry you. I’m so sorry she ruined your dress, honey. I can’t take away that pain but we will make her pay for that and we will do what it takes to fix this.” He wiped the corner of his eye before a tear managed to fall. “It’s going to be okay. Te prometo.”

JADE

Jade shook her head a bit, feeling far from beautiful at the moment. And she tried to grasp onto Rodrigo's reminder that they could face anything together. She held onto that like it was the lifeline she needed at this moment. She still felt deep shame and embarrassment, and she felt was struggling not to completely backslide emotionally, mentally, psychologically. Through the struggle though, she was fighting with her inner demon so that she could listen to Rodrigo and take his words to heart. She was trying to calm herself down enough to respond to him, challenging as it was at the time. Fletcher had been watching from a short distance away after giving his statement to the police. He knew the officer wanted to get Jade's statement but was currently speaking with Emiliana and Jewel. Walking quietly over to Rodrigo and hearing the wet sniffs from the inside of the dressing room, he clasped a hand to the younger man's shoulder and, with a stern expression and jerked his head in the direction of the room, indicating for him to go inside. He followed with a firm push to the curtain while lifting it out of Rodrigo's way. And then he stepped away to give the couple a little privacy. Jade lifted her head from her hands and looked in the direction of the curtain, making out Rodrigo's familiar frame once again. She wiped her eyes and mascara-streaked cheeks, trying to clear her face as best as possible and then stood, going to him as quickly as her dress would allow. Her unsteady fingers clung to him and she buried her face in the center of his chest and cried. Her body shuddered, wracked by her sobs. Tears fell freely and by the time she was able to settle down some time later, the front of Rodrigo's shirt had a wet spot and a small eyeliner stain. "I'm sorry," Jade croaked when she managed to find her voice again, trying to wipe the stain away with her thumb. "I know it's just a dress, but..." She let the words trail off, struggling not to sound like she whining.

RODRIGO

When he felt Fletcher’s presence, Rodrigo felt determined. He was glad for the little push and so he whispered “thanks” to his brother. While it was important he gave Jade the space she deserved and needed, Rodrigo knew that there were urgent matters that needed to be taken care of. Once in the fitting room area, he knelt down to embrace Jade and let her cry into his chest. He tried to soothe her the best way possible and kissed the top of her head. “No, no don’t apologize to me. It’s not just a dress and this isn’t well, what happened is awful. But we will figure this out. I know we will. Right now we have to go talk to the cops, okay? And as soon as they leave, I’ll make sure everyone gets home safely and we will go home and I’ll take the day off tomorrow and spend it with you figuring this out. But right now? It’s really important that you tell those cops what she did.” He gently took her shoulders and massaged them before wiping her tears with the end of his sleeve. “Come on, I’ll stick by your side the entire time.” He held out his hand, hoping she’d take it.

JADE

Jade listened to her fiance and nodded when he reminded her about speaking with the cops. She knew he was right and the rational side of her brain was reminding her that the sooner she did this, the sooner she could get out of the ruined dress and go home with him. Nodding a few times and giving another sniff, Jade told him, "Okay," in just above a whisper. She took his hand and squeezed it firmly, walking with him to the curtain and out of the dressing room. When she got out there, it looked like one of the officers was speaking with the shop assistant who'd helped her while the other officer had just finished taking the last statement from everyone in her party. She was the last one. Still holding Rodrigo's hand tightly for support and to hide the lingering tremors, Jade approached the officer. Upon prompting, he took down her full name, age and phone number, explained her relation to Jeanette, and answered every question asked of her. She told the officer everything that took place and about the TRO, which she hadn't realized recently ended. if she wanted to press charges and, after a moment's hesitation--knowing it would mean a court case because her mother wouldn't plead 'guilty'--she looked around at her family, and up to Rodrigo, and then to the officer to tell him, "Yes." And then, after agreeing to the officer taking photos of the dress for evidence, she asked, "Excuse me, but where is my...Jeanette...where is she?" "Detained in the back of a patrol car. But seeing the evidence on your dress and with the witnesses here and the employees, as well as them being willing to turn over copies of their security footage, we'll be placing her under arrest shortly."

RODRIGO

Rodrigo was listening to Jade recount what had happened all the while holding onto her hand tightly. He tried searching out the window for a glimpse of Jeanette but didn't have the pleasure of spotting her. When Jade asked where Jeanette was, he was more than glad to hear that the woman was apprehended and in the back of the patrol car. He just wished he had a moment with her. He had to remember he needed to support Jade during this time. Everything else was unimportant. Rodrigo took a deep breath when Jade was asked if she'd be pressing charges but he nodded once, internally relieved when his future wife said yes. "Thank you, officer. Are we free to go?" He placed his free hand on Jade's back, massaging her there in hopes that she'd stay calm with him. He knew this wasn't easy and that she wouldn't be in the right state of mind but it had to be done. When they got the green light to go, Rodrigo led Jade back to their family and friends but not before saying, "We'll be home soon and have a shower and relax together, okay?"

JADE

Jade was listening to the officer and mechanically nodded when he explained what would be happening to her mother. She was staeinf around nothing in particular when Rodrigo asked if they could go. The officer held out a business card but soon moved his hand to offer it to Rodrigo when Jade hadn't extended a hand to take it. "If anything else comes to mind thar needs to be reported, you can call directly," the officer said, and then let them know that they could go. Jade hadn't snapped out of her fixed stare of stance until Rodrigo spoke to her. She blinked and looked up at him, giving him one nod, "Okay." And while the officer gave his card to Frankie and Emiliana as well, Jade touched Rodrigo's arm, "I'm gonna go change and get my clothes back on." She looked for her little sister and asked, "Would you help me out, Jewel?" She squeezed Rodrigo's forearm and said, "I'll be back out in five minutes." And with Jewel accompanying her, she went back to the fitting room to get out of the dress once and for all. Fletcher was looming by the shop doors where he could see Jeanette in the back of the squad car. One of the officers was still speaking with the shop staff and his partner looked like they were about to join them. Fletcher pushed off the wall and went over to Rodrigo. "You need anything?"

RODRIGO

Rodrigo felt immense sadness for his fiance. He hated feeling like he couldn't help but also knew that the severity of the situation was something he'd need time with. Taking the cop's card, Rodrigo kept his arm around Jade as they approached their family. When Jade told him she would change, he nodded and let her go, nodding to Jewel that it was okay for her to go with Jade as well. "Okay, honey." "Um, thank you for everything." He announced to the employees in the shop. "We will make sure that any damage is taken care of. The shop owner was kind enough to reassure him and the others that they wouldn't be holding anything against them but would also be pressing charges at the woman in the patrol car. "Good." was all Rodrigo could say before looking out along with Fletcher, finally catching Jeanette's stank face in the window. "I don't hit women..." He murmured and then Frankie chimed in quickly, "But I do so let's go." Before she went back to gathering everyone's things to load Emiliana's car. He chuckled at Frankie's words and shook his head, placing a hand on his brother's shoulder. "I'm not sure. A smoke. Not the cigarette kind. A damn good lawyer. I' sure Jade will update Jasper.... He sighed. "And I need that woman as far away from Jade, from my mother, from Frankie, from you...from everyone I have ever loved because this is the last time she gets that close. Maybe I should call my uncles."

JADE

Fletcher gave a mirthless chuckle at the suggestion Rodrigo made about calling his uncles. "I can't tell if you're joking or not. Maybe wait and see if the woman ends up behind bars or not." Normally he wouldn't indulge the idea of Rodrigo involving his uncles but he could tell that Rodrigo was furious about the situation, and was doing a good job at keeping a lid on it. "How'd you get here? You drive Jade's van?" he asked, prepared to offer to drive the couple home if necessary. Inside the dressing room, Jewel helped undo the many buttons at the top and the zipper halfway down the middle of Jade's back. She saw the empty garment bag and helped Jade put the dress inside, all the while frequently stealing glances at her sister. "Jadey?" Jewel softly spoke, zipping the bag shut. "Are you okay?" Jade was pulling her skirt on but paused, fingers at her hips. She took in her sister's sad and concerned expression and sat down on the bench, inviting Jewel to sit with her. She put her arms around Jewel's shoulder and bent her head to rest on top of her sister's. "I will be. I know today didn't go as planned but... I'm glad that you were here." Jewel leaned into her and asked, "What... what are you going to do?" And when Jade admitted that she didn't know, Jewel said, "You know, technically I've known Mr. Escobar longer than you. And I know he really loves you. He's still going to marry you no matter what. He'd even marry you in jeans!" Jade smiled sadly and hugged Jewel tightly. "Thank you, Jewel. I know you're right. I really love him too." She knew it wasn't just about wearing something Rodrigo would marry her in but she appreciated her sister comforting her. After another minute, she said, "Come on. We should get you home, and I know Jasper and Dad will want to know about all of this." With a soft sigh, she stood, shouldered her purse and then took the dress bag off the hook with some reluctance, unsure of what to do with the dress now. Still, she left the room to join her fiancé. Going home with Rodrigo, having a shower and being away from others for the rest of the day sounded like the best next steps.

RODRIGO

Rodrigo nodded, agreeing to wait to see what happens with Jeanette. “It would be for protection. Just to make sure no one goes near us again. I’ll wait though…” he looked over his shoulder to see if Jade would emerge. “I drove her van. I’m sure she’ll want to drop off Jewel first and then talk to her dad and brother about everything.” He looked down at his phone. “Gotta thank Ziggy for handing in my midterm grades.” He sent a quick text and reassured his friend that everything was alright. “I think my mom drove here but if she didn’t, she can go with you? Is that alright?” Rodrigo knew that Frankie drove everywhere they went and they’d be okay. When Jade came out with Jewel, he offered her a smile and took her hand before taking her purse. He noticed the dress bag and took that as well. He had seen the damage and Rodrigo knew there was no fixing that but keeping the dress for evidence would be necessary. “Jewel! You’re riding with us! How’s that sound?” He tried to cheer the tween up and smiled at her before walking to his mother. “Mami, te llamo más luego?” “Sure. I promise Drew some flautas tonight. I’ll make extra for you two if you decide to stop by at the end of the night.” Frankie approached their best friend and then hugged her tightly. “Love you.” They whispered over her shoulder and nodded at Rodrigo. “You too” Frankie then waved at everyone and playfully punched Fletcher in the arm. “I could have taken her…” they whispered only to Fletcher and then went off to find their Mustang.

JADE

Fletcher listened and nodded, still understanding why Rodrigo brought up his uncles. "Maybe talk to them and see what they can do for the wedding, especially if Mommy Dearest isn't still behind bars." He listened to Rodrigo some more and nodded. "Yeah, I can take Emiliana home or to my house. Frankie's timing was actually good because I was only gonna be at the shop for an hour today while Phoebe napped. So I wasn't far when she texted." Jade looked to her fiancé and their family when she and Jewel came out of the dressing room. She let go of her purse and then the garment bag to Rodrigo with a soft-spoken, "Thank you," while keeping her hand in his. She half-listened to the brief exchange between Rodrigo and Jewel, and him and Emiliana. Jewel smiled a bit to Rodrigo and said, "Okay, sure!" Jade looked to Frankie and was grateful when they approached her and hugged her. She needed it more than she realized. A hand still in Rodrigo's, her free arm returned the hug for as long as possible. "Love you too," she whispered back. "Thank you for being here," she said to her best friend. Fletcher affectionately nudged Frankie with his elbow after they gave his arm a harmless punch. "I know. I saw the bald spot," he mumbled back with a smirk and then he went to Emiliana, while clapping an hand to Rodrigo's shoulder. "Alright, Emiliana, let's get outta here." He looked to Rodrigo, "Talk to you guys later. Jade, I'm sorry about all this. Anything I can do to help make this right, you let me know." Jade nodded, "Thank you, Fletcher, Emiliana." And after watching them go to the exit for Fletcher's Shelby, Jade looked to Jewel and Rodrigo. Emotionally, she was feeling drained and wrung out. On their way out of the shop though, the shop assistant stepped away from the officers to give Jade a business card. "If you find something new with us, we'll do our best to get it altered before your big day--no charge."

She thanked the woman and headed out with her sister and fiancé, frowning when she saw the squad car parked along the nearby curb. Her mother’s silhouette was mildly visible from the rear window and for a few seconds, she was pierced with fire, unbridled anger. For those few seconds, she wanted to step outside of herself and lash out at her mother--not only for her showing up to ruin the day, but everything she'd done to Jade before then. Moments like this occasionally hit Jade throughout her life. But she never acted on it. The temptation was there now, like it always was, but this time, she had Rodrigo holding one of her hands and Jewel standing on her other side. Drawing in a slow, deep breath, she looked up to Rodrigo and said, "Let's go. Please?"

RODRIGO

"That's a good idea, Fletcher. Thanks." He smiled at his best friend and thanked him for taking his mother. Rodrigo and Jade were fortunate to have such a supportive group of people in their corner. "I'm glad you were around. Really." Rodrigo kept Jade close. He knew she was tired and was glad that all arrangements had been taken care of so he could focus on getting her home. It was nice seeing Frankie go up to Jade for a hug. Jade was going to need as much help as possible. With everyone dispersing, Rodrigo watched them all leave the shop. He was glad that the shop owner looked as concerned and was willing to work with Jade on quick alterations if needed. "Okay, honey, let's go." He helped Jade climb into the van and Jewel as well. "We'll drop Jewel off first. I'm assuming you will want to speak to your dad and Jasper?" He started the engine. "And then we'll go home." He looked over his shoulder to Jade's sister and nodded once, concerned about how much of today's events would be plaguing her mind. As he drove off, Rodrigo reached for Jade's hand and squeezed it before bringing it to his lips to kiss her knuckles. He didn't want to offer any more advise or words of comfort. She looked to drained for that. Instead, he kept quiet as the radio played some soft tunes in the background.

JADE

Jade opened one of the van's side doors for Jewel and helped relieve Rodrigo of the dress bag to put in the far back. She set her purse in the seat beside Jewel and then accepted his help into the passenger's seat with a, "Thank you." As she pulled her seatbelt on, she heard Rodrigo's question and was pleasantly amazed at how attuned he was to her, even when she was so out of sorts. Nodding, she said, "I have to tell them what happened." She knew there was no way she couldn't tell them. With Jewel having witnessed it all, she would want to make sure their dad would check in on her especially when Jade couldn't. And Jasper would undoubtedly represent her through the charges being pressed and anything else legal that came with that. Initially, Jade had her hands in her lap but she let Rodrigo take one and she shut her eyes when he kissed her knuckles. It was a small but meaningful and soothing gesture. Even with all that had gone on that afternoon and her mother continuing to torment her, Rodrigo really did make her feel like the most treasured person in the world. Still, she rode in silence to her father's home. When they arrived, Jade walked Jewel up to the front doors. Her father hadn't been home but Jewel's mother, Wendy was there. Jade told her what happens and apologized to Wendy for her mother’s actions and behavior in front of Jewel. Wendy gave a somewhat stiff acceptance while also telling Jade that she wasn't responsible for her mother’s actions. She thanked Jade and Rodrigo for bringing Jewel home; after declining an offer for tea, Jade left with Rodrigo, promising to contact Richard and Jasper. Deciding to get all the retellings over as soon as possible, she conference called her father and brother on their way home to fill them, giving no response to their outrage and expressed concern over Jade's wellbeing and her being without a dress so close to the wedding.

With a listless tone, she told them, "I'll figure something out. Rodrigo and I are going home now though, so I'll talk to you both later. Or tomorrow. Just please promise me that you'll keep an eye on Jewel. I don't know how much my mom or the whole situation may have scared her, and I just want to make sure she's okay." After getting assurances from both men that they would look out for Jewel, Jade ended the call and shut her eyes for the remainder of the car ride home. When they arrived, Jade took her purse and suggested that the dress go in the downstairs closet--a space that only got used when they had guests over, which wouldn't likely be the case anytime soon. Once inside their home, Jade set her purse down on the nearest table and started for the stairs. "I'm sorry I'm not the best company to be around right now, Rodrigo."

RODRIGO

Rodrigo went with Jade to drop off Jewel and kept quiet for most of the exchange except for the part that he explained he got there after it had all happened. He shook Wendy's hand and then offered the reassurance that he would take care of not only Jade by anyone in the family as they were now his family. When they arrived at their home, he watched his future wife with keen eyes, mindful of what could be going through her head. Rodrigo placed the dress in the closet, making sure to hide it so that it wasn't too obvious in the view. He didn't want Jade to dwell on the incident for too long but he also knew better. When Jade apologized, he shook his head and walked in front of her so he could cup her face gently. "Don't think about me right now, okay? Please. Tell me what I can do for you. If you want me to leave you alone, I can. Just let me check in every so often. Do you want some tea? I can draw you a bath. I'm here for you. Are you tired? We can lie down and take a small nap." He dropped his arms and took a few steps back. "Or we can watch a stupidly funny movie until we both pass out."

JADE

Jade couldn't help thinking about how telling Wendy about the whole ordeal about the bridal shop didn't do any favors for the already flimsy relationship she had with the mother of her siblings. She knew she couldn't do anything to change it and logically, she knew that her mother's actions and behavior weren't her fault. But knowing the logic didn't make her feel any better. At home, Jade couldn't help her apology to Rodrigo. It wasn't the day she thought it would be and while she knew she couldn't meticulously plan everything--she was well aware of that at this point in her life--nothing had prepared her for the terrible turn the day had taken. Her eyes had been lowered even when Rodrigo held her face in his hands. But she looked up to him when he let her go and stepped back. Stepping forward to him, she wrapped her arms around his middle and took a few deep breaths, trying to figure out what she wanted that was attainable. "I don't want you to leave me alone, unless you need the space." Her cheek was pressed to his chest as she went on to tell him, "A bath sounds nice. And... a nap, or at least laying down together."

RODRIGO

He held his fiance close when she wrapped her arms around him. Rodrigo shook his head at her words and kissed the top of her head. "No. I don't need any space. I want to be there for you in any way that I can." He massaged her hair. "I'll draw you a bath and I'll stay there with you. I'll get some of that lavender you like that's calming. And I'll put some soft music on and when you're done, we'll go take a nice nap together, okay?" He kissed the top of her head once more. "I'll take care of you, Jade. We'll get through this." Rodrigo looked down and met her gaze. "Come on, let's get everything ready and set it all up. I can read you some sonnets while you enjoy your bath too. Hey, that sounds kinda nice..." Rodrigo lifted her chin and smiled.

JADE

Jade listened as she kept herself pressed to Rodrigo’s front for the time being. It wasn’t until he shifted and she looked up to him that she responded to him. "How are you real?" she asked a little helplessly and with a sad smile. "Would you join me in the tub instead? Maybe just listen to the music and unwind with me in the water?" Her arms were still around him as he lifted her chin. "I'd really love that. Maybe you can read some of the sonnets after, when we're in bed?" She leaned in and kissed his chest near his heart. "Thank you for being so wonderful."

RODRIGO

“I would love that. And sonnets in bed sounds so romantic ooo la la.” He grinned at Jade and massaged her hair when she kissed his chest. “Funny story, I find myself constantly wondering how you’re real” Rodrigo wrapped his arms around Jade once again. “You deserve that and then some.” He swayed with her a little as they stop together in an embrace. “When you’re ready, I’ll go draw our bath and you get whatever you need.”

JADE

Jade rolled her eyes but he'd drawn some of the sadness out of her smile. But she said nothing when he reciprocated her question, especially when she was feeling like she'd brought a heap of drama in the form of her mother, along with her scars that were a result of her mother's abuse and her father's neglect for most of her life. Yet Rodrigo still loved her. Squeezing him tightly as they swayed, she told him, "I'm ready. And I just need... some peace, time to figure out what Im gonna do for the wedding, and... you." She swayed a little longer with him and then pulled back so that they could go upstairs together. Keeping a hand in his, she went upstairs with Rodrigo and sat down on their bed, removing her shoes and beginning to undress. She would empty her wedding shoes and undergarments from her purse later. For bow though, the bath sounded best. After undressing completely and putting her clothes in the hamper, she gathered her hair up in a messy bun and pulled out some clean pajamas for herself and pajama pants for her fiancé. Her mind was replaying the worst part of the day--her mother throwing the oily liquid on her and her dress, calling her a selfish little bitch, and making a scene at the bridal shop. Jade tried to push the thoughts away as she walked to the bathroom to join Rodrigo.

RODRIGO

Rodrigo happily stayed swaying with Jade until she was ready to go. He listened intently to the things she needed I hoped he’d be able to provide most of those things for her. “We’re going to work it out. We are going to have the most beautiful wedding and we are going to be so happy by the end of it. We deserve that. We deserve good things.” He let her go and get ready while he ran their bath, making sure the water was the perfect temperature. As he prepared the bath with the lavender bubble bath, his mind couldn’t stop running. He assumed it was the same for Jade. Rodrigo kept thinking about what he had walked into, the sadness in Jade’s eyes, the pure shock that poured over his mother and Jewel. It was too much for anyone to take in. How could a mother do this to her daughter? He hoped that Jeanette ended behind bars for a long time. Jade needed to have that woman out of her life. “Hey, beautiful.” Rodrigo greeted his future wife, taking her hand to lead into the bath. He undressed himself so that he could join her from across. Everything’s gonna be alright played in the background and Rodrigo hummed along, smiling at his woman.

JADE

Jade nodded, trying to take solace in Rodrigo's affirming words. He was right. They deserved to be happy and have good things. And she knew the whole wedding wasn't ruined because of this one incident but she was hoping that her mother didn't know anything more about their wedding; Jade had no idea how she found her at the bridal shop and had been in too much shock at the time to ask. Jade gave Rodrigo a faint smile when he greeted her. She accepted his hand and stepped into the tub, already soothed by the lavender aroma much like she'd been comforted smelling Rodrigo's cologne each time she'd been in his arms. She sat in the tub, drawing her knees up towards her chest and resting her cheek to her kneecaps, eyes watching Rodrigo undress and ears listening to him hum. "Is this a playlist of yours?" she asked, lowering a hand into the water and then tracing circles along its surface.

RODRIGO

"mm hmm. Love me some Bob Marley." Rodrigo looked over his shoulder and smiled at Jade. He hated seeing her so sad but would spend the rest of his life ensuring she didn't. He joined her in the bathtub, looking across toward her, and reached for a loofah before he started to scrub her legs. "I know you probably don't feel like it much but you should put something in your tummy. Even if it's tea and toast. Something warm and soothing. Okay?" He was very much aware of Jade's eating disorder. They talked about it here and there and he had, from the beginning of their relationship tried to present a positive relationship with food for her. He'd never judge her. Instead, he'd frame questions and suggestions in a way that would make sense. No pushing or anything but he'd be glad if she tried and for the most part, he could see a change in her. She was doing better and that's all that mattered for now. That's why he offered something soft for her stomach. He knew she hadn't probably eaten since earlier in the afternoon and she was at risk of ignoring any meal after what happened. It was just another reason why he hated her mother. Rodrigo could never forgive that woman. He continued washing her legs, under her knees and calves, and the soft music played in the background and he hummed along.

JADE

She nodded to her fiancé, all the while certain he'd intentionally started with this song. When he'd gotten in the water and faced her on the opposite side, Jade lifted her head and was prepared to go sit in front of him, lay against him and soak. But he'd begun cleaning her legs and in that moment, she felt as though she might cry again. She didn't, but Rodrigo's unfailing love and kindness to her overwhelmed her emotions. For the moment, Jade took some deep breaths to try and keep herself together. She'd heard Rodrigo's suggestion that she eat something and truthfully, he was right. He was right that she didn't feel like it, and he was right that she should have something. But her stomach still felt like it was in knots although not as severely as when she was in the bridal shop. After another measured breath in and out, she said, "I will. After the nap, I promise." It was the best she could do without defaulting to her usual deflecting responses when unaware people brought up her eating something. When Rodrigo finished cleaning her legs, Jade thanked him and then shifted around in the tub, trying to be careful not to slosh the water out despite her short, tiny frame's mindful movements. She settled herself in front of Rodrigo between his legs, resting her back to his chest and her hands on his thighs. Letting out a soft sigh, Jade shut her eyes. "I love listening to you humming along to the music."

RODRIGO

When Jade shifted to sit in front of him, Rodrigo began to soap her shoulder, leaning in to kiss the back of her neck before soaping down her back. He listened to her speak and nodded. He wouldn't push now but he'd make her the tea after their nap. "Okay, my love. After the nap." Rodrigo smiled at the comment of loving to hear him hum and he then joked, "If teaching fails, I can audition for American Idol. OR I can become a rapper, get my beatbox skills out there." He chuckled. "We can take this show on the road, have babies while I'm touring, make them famous too. They can play instruments once they turn two. We can call ourselves the Toddler Beatz. " He smiled and kissed the top of her head. "love you."

JADE

Jade leaned forward as Rodrigo washed her back, resting her chin on her knees. She smiled a little while listening to him. "Silly," she murmured and then rested against his chest again after he was done with her back. "I love you too." She reached for his hand to take the loofah out and set it in the water, and then she guided his hands around her, holding him to her. After a while of not saying anything and shutting her eyes again, a thought crossed Jade's mind and she asked, "Honey? What were you doing before you came to the bridal shop?"

RODRIGO

Rodrigo let Jade take the loofah and he wrapped his arms around her as she guided him. They were both sitting in silence, his chin resting on her shoulder. When Jade broke the silence and asked her question, he mused over it for a bit. Even though the altercation with Jade's mother had happened on the same day, it felt like days ago. "I was grading midterms. I rushed through the last batch because they were due today but Ziggy was kind enough to submit them for me. Getting all my T's crossed and I's dotted before Spring Break and all." He sighed. "I was so relieved to see you weren't alone."

JADE

Amidst the low music, Jade listened to her fiancé share whay he had been doing prior to coming to the bridal shop. She was relieved that Ziggy was around to help him get his midterms in. Eccentric as he was, Jade knew he was an important friend to Rodrigo and he'd really tried to be helpful with their wedding planning. Jade turned her head and slid down a little in the water so her cheek was resting to his warm skin--her head tucked just beneath his chin. "I'm glad I wasn't either. But... I also wish Jewel hadn't been there. She and Jett had never met my mother before today. And I don't think that what happened today will help anything between Wendy and me, now that Jewel has seen for herself what my mother's like." She traced random shapes on Rodrigo's knuckles. "I wish you hadn't had to see me like that... but I'm also glad that you were there. You've always been there when I've needed you the most."

RODRIGO

“I’m there with you on Jewel being there. She didn’t need to see that and I worry what that could do to her psyche.” Rodrigo thought of a young Jade and the damage that Jeanette had done to her up until her adulthood. “All I can say about that is none of that is your fault or on you. And some people need to grow up. Wendy seemed cordial and all and I’m glad she was but nothing needs to be placed over your head. You’re an adult too with feelings and you had no say as a child how your mother was going to go about a lot of things. You’re not Jeanette’s keeper nor are you responsible for her doings. Not then, not now, not ever.” He kept his embrace. “I hope Wendy understands that at some point. Jasper is an amazing brother and he wants to be close to you and Jewel and Jett seem to want the same too and they’re kids! They’re able to see past the bullshit. And I’m glad I was there. I want to always be there for every moment the good ones and the hard ones. We’re about to get married. We are not at that stage where we want to hide what we think are our ugly sides.” He chuckled softly. “As soon as I heard you needed me there, it was all I could think of doing.”!

JADE

"That's my worry too," Jade admitted with a frown, her mind flashing back to Jewel clutching her, and then Rodrigo and Emiliana. "Does the school have counselors or mental health supports for the student" she wondered and hoped, in case Jewel did want to talk with someone else at some point. The thought made Jade think about reaching out to her therapist to see if she could get a session in before the wedding. But she listened to Rodrigo and continued tracing patterns along his knuckles as he weighed in about the twins' mother. "You're right. And honestly it's probably because they're kids, and because Jasper and I were young adults that we've all had no problem accepting each other and caring for each other like siblings..like a family." She molded her fingers over Rodrigo's larger hands and shut her eyes again, feeling the vibrations of his words and his chuckles. "I know. You're right about that too. It was just... I was in my dress. And I know it's ruined now so it doesn't matter and it shouldn't have mattered then but..." She drew in a deep breath and softly sighed, "It would've been harder to deal with everything that happened in the shop if you hadn't shown up." Reaching up, she rested a hand on the side of his face and then whispered, "Thank you. I know you're probably going to tell me that I don't need to thank you but yes, I do. You're wonderful to me and it's not something I ever want to take for granted."

RODRIGO

"We do. We have counselors there and provide resources too for the kids. I can speak to Jewel if you want me to, it's completely confidential." He would make sure to speak to Jewel if Jade thought it was a good idea. "I think that's a great idea. Even if it didn't get to her that way, it would be good for her to speak to someone. You too." He kissed the top of her head. "Yeah, that's probably the reason but it does make it disappointing that the so-called adults aren't behaving." Rodrigo had a lot of anger in him toward anyone that had hurt Jade. Rodrigo listened intently and understood what Jade was saying. "I know. I'm so sorry she ruined what should have been one of the most wonderful days for you but I do believe that you'll still get your moment. I know it." He took a deep breath, gently pushing her hair over one shoulder. "I'm glad Frankie was quick to text me, then." Rodrigo smiled at his future bride. "You don't but I won't fight you." He grinned. "There's never been a time where I've thought you've taken me for granted." He kissed the hand cupping his cheek. "Now, after a nice nap, we can plan to call your father. Tomorrow or in a couple of days, I'm sure Frankie and my mom would be happy to do another bridal shop visit with you. Emma too. How does that sound?

JADE

"She's likely to come to you anyway. She trusts you and you're her favorite teacher. Plus, you were there in the end. If she doesn't go talk to a counselor, she'll probably talk to you. I just... in case she doesn't, if you don't mind just checking in with her sometime tomorrow, maybe?" Her loose bun came undone, falling to one side after he kissed the top of her head. Jade reached up for the hair band and set it on the edge of the tub. She gazed at the water while listening on to Rodrigo, nodding in agreement but saying nothing verbally about the adults in her life. "I owe Frankie a thank you for that too," she thought aloud. His kiss to her palm was as soothing as the soak in the tub had been. And she listened to the plan Rodrigo proposed, giving him a couple more shallow nods. "Okay." Lifting her unkissed hand, she turned them palm-side up to looked at them and noticed her fingertips were beginning to prune. "Let's get out and dry off now, okay?" She scooted forward a bit and braced her hands on the side of the tub to stand, taking thr hair band to pull her hair back up into another loose bun. And after carefully stepping out, she picked up a towel to hand to Rodrigo and then wound one around her own body to keep from dripping water into their bedroom. Looking to her fiancé, she said, "I laid out pajama pants for you, with my pajamas."

RODRIGO

Rodrigo smiled when Jade let him know that he was Jewel's favorite teacher. He adored all his kids and had grown close to the twins. Coming into Jade's family, he knew he'd end up being a brother to them and he took that seriously. "Of course. I'll check in on her tomorrow." Rodrigo would make sure to privately pull her to the side. "I do too. Quick thinking." Rodrigo chuckled softly and nodded in response to getting out of the tub. He took the towel from Jade and also stood up, tying it around his waist after drying off. "Always so thoughtful." Rodrigo followed Jade into their bedroom and finished drying off before pulling up the pajama pants left for him. He combed through his hair to get any knots out of his waves and then pulled their comforter up and over. He watched Jade get ready and then patted the bed beside him to invite her over. "I'll set like...an hour alarm? Is that okay?" He'd probably end up sleeping through it if they were both very tired but he knew Jade had things she wanted to do and not destroy her sleep schedule. He extended his arms, wanting Jade in them right away, and chuckled.

JADE

Jade returned to the restroom after drying off and unplugged the tub to drain the water. She then got her scented lotion and went through her usual bedtime routine of moisturizing her body, gathering her hair in two loose braids and then capping it in a satin hair bonnet. She then rejoined Rodrigo in their bedroom, pulling on her pajamas and climbing into bed where he'd been patting the empty space beside him. "Two hours?" she asked, tugging the bedding up to her shoulders while snuggling up to Rodrigo. Her head came to rest on his chest and she shut her eyes, an arm draped around his waist. Her mind was still buzzing about the afternoon's events and the aftermath with the police and taking Jewel home but she hoped that the emotional exhaust would be enough for her to fall asleep quickly. Drawing in a deep breath and sighing it back out, she quietly said, "I don't know if we'll sleep that whole time but I wouldn't mind a long nap today." Usually she would go for a run to help keep her head clear and her depressive lows at bay while also staying in shape, but today, a nap after the bath with Rodrigo felt perfect.

RODRIGO

"Two hours." He murmured as he brought her close to his frame and then edited the alarm on his phone. He wouldn't mind resting with her for a bit. Jade was probably exhausted and a nap would help tremendously. He just hoped that her brain could shut off. He kept her close and kissed the top of her head, humming a few tunes until he felt himself doze off. Before he did, he looked down to check on Jade and she was slowly blinking. "Love you, honey. We've got this." He cuddled up with her and waited a few minutes for Jade to fall asleep. When she did, Rodrigo stared at the ceiling thinking back on what had just happened. Even with knowing how cruel Jeanette could be, he had never imagined this type of absurdity. He hoped that they'd all find a way to keep this woman far away from Jade and from their future family. Blinking a few times as his eyes became heavier, Rodrigo took a deep breath, ready to shut the thoughts off for now. He was confident they'd find another dress but he hoped that Jade's psyche wasn't too affected. He'd make it better. He had to.

#Rodrigo #Frankie #Fletcher #guest: Emiliana #guest: Jeanette #guest: Jewel #Wedding Bell Blues para

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thedevotedtm · 11 months ago

Text

“We should get going. I’m sure Mother’s waiting for us.”

She was standing in the courtyard as they rode in, blonde hair piled in an elaborate knot on the top of her head, and hand already on her hip. “Really, Philippa? Breeches?”

“They make overskirts for riding outfits. You do not have to parade around as a man.”

“Hello, Mother.” He leaned in and kissed her cheek.

“Hello, Percy.” She replied, giving him a quick peck on the cheek in return. “How was the journey?”

“Dusty, but we made it.” He gave her a small smile. She almost returned.

“Well, come along. We must get you cleaned up before you are presented to the court.” Mother turned on her heel and began walking away.

“Presented? What do you mean, presented?” Pippa chased after her. Percy motioned for Em to start after them.

“There is a full court dinner and dance that you will be attending.” Mother answered without slowing down or looking.

“Really?” Em exclaimed, clapping her hands together.

“Not you, Emiliana. You are far too young for that.” Percy physically saw the joy leave Em’s body. Pippa grabbed Em’s hand.

“Then why did you even bring her here?”

“And dragging her all the way down her just to exclude her from everything isn’t?” Pippa began to raise her voice.

“Not here, Pips.” Percy whispered sharply, grabbing her shoulder. Mother would never forgive them if they made a scene in the castle corridor, especially on their first day.

“Do you think so, Daisy? A familiar voice asked from an overlooked chair in the corner.

“Willian!” Em shrieked, dashing across the room and literally jumping into his arms. It was a good thing Will had stood up. He grunted as he caught her.

“I need a haircut? Have you seen your twin’s head?” Will looked at Percy’s unruly dark curls.

“You’re very calculating, you know that?” Percy crossed his arms.

“Don’t pretend like you’re not.”

“It’s time to wash the stink of the road off of you.” Mother clapped her hands together. “Come along. Girls first.”

“Girls?” Pippa stared at Mother. “Are you seriously going to make me share a bath with Emmie? I’m sixteen, Mother!”

“Find yourself a husband and you will never have to bathe with your sister again. Until then…” Mother snapped her fingers and pointed through an open door behind her.

“Unbelievable.” Pippa snapped before stalking through the doorway, Em trailing behind her.

“Do you think I’m allowed to sit down?” Percy asked, surveying the fancy chairs as Mother closed the door behind the girls.

“Not with road stink on you.” Will said, pointedly sitting back down. “Mother will skin you if you ruin her chairs. She just had them reupholstered.”

“Of course she did.” Percy sighed, moving to go sit on the windowsill.

“Percy, I will beat the-“

“Do NOT embarrass me.” Mother hissed from the front, cutting off Pippa’s retort. “The QUEEN is in there. You will behave appropriately.” They all grew quiet for a moment.

“You know,” Will whispered, leaning in close as the group in front of them was introduced. “I’m glad Emmie didn’t come tonight.”

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longitud-de-onda · 5 years ago

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{un veneno} february: blossom

pairing; javier peña x female reader summary; a month into living in bogotá and your friendship with javier keeps getting closer. rating; t warnings; language. talk about sex. age gap (forgot about that for the first chapter) word count; 3.1k a/n; i want to be really transparent about this fic, and a lot of you fell in love with it so before you get super into it, just check out the longer a/n at the end of the chapter. january

un veneno masterlist

“I still don’t understand why you leave 30 minutes early on a school morning,” Emiliana said, walking out from the bathroom still in her pajamas.

“I like my coffee,” you were gathering up your things in front of the doorway, patting down your purse in search of your wallet.

“You don’t like coffee, you like that man,” she said. You looked up at your colleague, smirking at you from across the room.

“Of course I like Javier. He’s my friend. And the coffee is great,” you said.

“No me mientas, Y/N.”

“Would I ever lie to you? I’m serious, he’s just a friend. Do I need to remind you of Mateo?”

“Por Dios, don’t remind me of Mateo, I don’t ever want him here,” she said. That was fair.

Mateo was the guy you met two weeks ago, back when you were staying at the hostel. Another backpacker, like yourself. He was in Bogotá for a month, and you had been fucking since you first met each other.

When Emiliana’s free bed opened up and you moved in, Mateo and you had to keep your relationship out of the bedroom. His hostel room always had others around and your colleague didn’t deserve to hear you going at it all night. It had quickly turned into quickies in the bathrooms of the discos. Emiliana had come out with you one evening, and not even an hour into the night caught the two of you going at it.

“I promise, Mateo’s not coming here, and anyways, he leaves in a week.”

“Go have fun with your Javier,” Emiliana smiled, “Hasta luego, chica.”

“Hasta luego,” you replied, exiting the apartment and skipping down the stairs.

The café you liked to meet Javier at was four blocks away from your apartment, and relatively close to the Embassy. It was a little shop that was busy in the morning but always had an open place to sit down.

This morning Javier beat you there, waving to you from a window seat as soon as you walked in. Glancing at the table, you saw two cups of coffee and a glass of juice. No need to go up to order.

“Juice for today’s papaya,” Javier said as you sat down. “I didn’t know if you’d like it, but you’ve ordered the juice every day since we got here, so...”

“Papaya’s great,” you said.

“Thought you might like it.”

“Thanks,” you said. You raised the glass to your lips, letting the fresh fruit flavor wash over your tongue. Javier was right. You loved it. It may have been your favorite thing so far about Colombia: all the fruit and the green and the tropical-ness. Everything was so vibrant and alive.

“So, how’s Colombia been treating you? You’re going on, what? Five weeks?”

“Yeah, five. It’s been great. No thanks to you.”

“I buy you all this coffee for nothing?”Javier had a mock offended look on his face, and you giggled.

“Emiliana’s been great. 10 days in her house has fixed my back from 6 months of hostel hopping,” you said, “Plus my Spanish has gotten so much better.”

“Really?” he shot up an eyebrow, “‘Cause I haven’t seen proof of that.”

“It’s a lot better! You, of course, wouldn’t know because you order for me every chance we get.”

“Maybe I should stop, then,” he said, “just to hear your pretty voice speak some Spanish.”

“I don’t think you could shut up,” you said.

“You don’t?” he grinned at you.

“Of course not. How would you give me all those recommendations and suggestions you know I won’t listen to unless you order for me at every restaurant?”

“Then maybe I should work on being more convincing in English,” Javier’s eyes lit up and even though you were enamored from day one, you felt yourself sink even further into them.

“Maybe you should,” this was getting into dangerous territory, even you knew that.

Javier took a sip of his coffee and you mirrored him.

“Are you doing anything on Saturday?” he asked.

You looked up, trying to figure out what exactly he was really asking.

“No?” Mateo might have wanted to spend the day together before he left, but that could wait. Right? There was always Sunday.

“Good, I’m picking you up and we’re going to my favorite place in Bogotá, 10am, okay?” he said.

“10am? Javi, that’s early for a Saturday, I’m usually out all Friday night,” you protested.

“Then don’t. I’m picking you up at 10,” he leaned back into his chair.

“Mateo and I—”

“Tell Mateo he can take you out on Saturday night instead,” he said. “I only have Saturday off and I don’t think you’re gonna regret this.”

“I—fine,” you said. “10am, and it better be worth it.”

So far, everything Javier took you to do or found for you to eat had been worth it. That was the only reason you said yes. That and his smile that appeared every night in your dreams.

Javier was leaning out of the window of his car, orange aviators on and his cream-colored shirt halfway unbuttoned when you exited Emiliana’s apartment building and burst out onto the warm streets of Bogotá.

“Morning,” he said. “You’re looking pretty awake for someone who said 10am was early.”

“I didn’t go out last night, asshole,” you said, walking around to the passenger side. “It’s entirely your fault.”

You got into the car and Javier merged into the traffic.

“Why do you like to party so much?” he said, eyes sticking to the road.

“I like dancing.”

“Just dancing?” he asked.

“I don’t know. It’s fun,” you shrugged. You never thought about why. You enjoyed going out. Enjoyed dancing with people. Enjoyed feeling like you were part of something. Enjoyed making friends, even if it was just for one night.

“So where are we going?” you asked.

“It’s a surprise,” he glanced over at you for a moment before returning his eyes to the road. You were headed out into the most distant neighborhoods, further and further south.

“You’re lucky I’m the sort of girl that likes surprises,” you said.

Javier laughed. “You’re probably right. Last girl I tried to surprise got pretty pissed.”

“So you take all your girls out here?”

“No, only the pretty ones.”

“Shut up,” you had started giggling earlier, and at this point, it was a full-on laugh that made your stomach hurt, “You’re an asshole, you know that?”

“What makes you think that?”

“How many girls are you just friends with?” you asked. You knew he liked to sleep around. After only a month of knowing the guy, you had heard him talking on multiple occasions about his sexual escapades with the prostitutes of the town.

But he had to have others like you, work friends and acquaintances from around the city. Friends he didn’t have just to fuck. Someone couldn’t last for over a year in another country without friends to go out with. Yet you found yourself taking up his every morning and most of his afternoons. It probably wasn’t fair to his other friends.

“You’re the only one,” he said, the teasing tone in his voice gone.

Oh.

You looked down at your lap. The air in the car had changed. You didn’t know what to say. If you were the only one, did that mean you were the only girl he didn’t have the intention of fucking? You weren’t sure whether that was a good thing or not. Maybe it was a red flag? Maybe it was good? It meant he cared.

Javier flipped on the radio, soft cumbia pouring into the car. You leaned back, looking around as you reached the edges of the city and turned off onto a dirt road, heading into the mountainous jungle.

You wound up the side of one of the hills that towered over Bogotá, the car violently bouncing with every pothole and rock on the unpaved path. Where you were going, you had no idea.

Javier hummed along to the music. It briefly passed your mind that as a single female traveler, right out of college, you shouldn’t be trusting older men, especially those who took you to remote locations. But if Javier wanted to hurt you, he would have done so long before, right? You trusted him.

“This is my favorite part,” he said.

You looked around. The trees were as green as ever, damp with the humid tropical air. Everywhere you looked there were leaves the size of your head and thick vines dangling from high branches.

It was something out of a movie. Growing up in the USA and traveling around Europe lent well to fantasies of medieval villages and soft rolling hills, but here was warm and green and untouched. It was better than anything you’d ever seen.

The light grew brighter as the tree cover thinned, and Javier slowed down as you exited the jungle.

Bogotá lay before you, spread out and nestled in the valley. You were perched on the edge of the mountain, a small rocky outcropping, only a few meters away from nothing.

Javier jumped out of the car and you followed him to the edge.

“This is my favorite place in Bogotá,” he said, “I come up here when I need to escape the violence.”

“Violence?”

“My line of work isn’t exactly the most safe. I see the underbelly of the city, the stuff it doesn’t want you to know about. I come up here to see it from afar, remind me of how beautiful it is.”

You inhaled. You thought the city air was refreshing, and it was, compared to where you had been before, but up here, the air was pristine. It was fresh and close to the earth. You could hear the birds in the distance, sounds you had never once heard in your lifetime, ones that you’d never want to forget.

“It’s gonna be damn hard leaving here,” you said.

“Leaving?” Javier turned towards you.

“Yeah, when the school year’s over, in November. I want to keep traveling. I only just started exploring the world, there’s so much more.”

“I thought you...” he started.

“Yeah?”

“I don’t know,” Javier shook his head. “Why are you doing this? Living on the road. I get the feeling you haven’t spent this much time anywhere since you graduated.”

“I haven’t,” you said. “I got my English teaching certification before I left, and I’ve just gone where I’ve felt like going. I don’t know, I guess I just like not being tied down anywhere. I don’t have a lot of stuff to deal with. I get to meet people. I don’t usually stay in one place for more than a couple weeks.”

“Where have you been?”

“I started in Paris. That was sort of my home base. I’d spend a week there and then a couple away, and then go back. I did a lot of teaching in Portugal, and I worked at a bunch of hostels across Eastern Europe in exchange for a bed.”

“I don’t think I could do that.”

“I’ll admit, settling down, letting Bogotá be my home for a bit. It’s relaxing. Nice not having to worry about where to next and whatnot.”

“It’s one hell of a city. You’ve gotta be careful, cause it’ll make it hard to say goodbye to,” Javier said. He was looking out over the sprawling urban space.

It was the most colorful city you’d ever laid eyes on. A couple small skyscrapers dotted the skyline, and green parks and tree-lined boulevards peeked out between the buildings.

“I’ve said goodbye to lots of cities. But it’s never a goodbye, is it? More of a ‘see you later,’” you said. You knew this to be a truth, one that many didn’t ever understand. You just wondered when this ‘see you later’ would be. And how hard it might be to pry yourself away from the people you had already grown to care for.

“I’m paying today,” you said, sliding into the seat. It was your fourth lunch date with Javier, and while you had split the morning café trips evenly, he had taken the load for the lunches. He always excused it as being the only one with a full-time, well-paying job.

“Alright, I guess there’s a first for everything,” he laughed. The skin around his eyes crinkled and the laugh came from deep within his chest.

“You have no idea how great it is to take my lunch away from the school,” you said. “I love the kids, but eating in the teacher’s lounge? It’s a nightmare. Emiliana teaches literature, so she’s on the other side of the building and I get funny looks if I try to eat a packed meal there.”

“I still don’t get why you want to work in a school. You graduated. You’re done. And you go back?”

“It’s not that bad,” you said, laughing to yourself at the hypocrisy of your statement. “The kids are alright, especially the younger ones. They really want to be there.”

“Better than spending day after day in an office, surveying recordings of drug dealers talking about the latest fútbol game.”

“Is that what you do?”

“No,” Javier groaned, “Not usually. But it’s what I’ve been doing for the last four days. It’s got me completely stir crazy.”

“That sounds awful,” you said.

The waiter came over to take your orders, and two of you slipped into easy conversation as you waited for your food.

One of the things you had missed most about having a stable life was friends. On the road, you had friends, but they were people you might have only known for a week or saw once a month when you accidentally crossed paths. If you weren’t traveling with someone, you had no one who could fully understand what you were going through, what you were doing, how you were feeling. Emiliana had been that since day one at school, and you were more thankful every day that Javier and you had grown so close as well.

Maybe you should have put a bit more energy into making friends who were closer to your age, but everyone in that category who was interesting to you was also temporary residents. People who came and went. You didn’t live near the university, and nights at the disco weren’t good for making lunch dates.

“So Mateo left?” Javier asked as you received your plates.

“Yeah, a couple days ago,” you said. It was probably for the best. You had become close very quickly, and yeah, Mateo was good—no, great—at sex, but the last few days with him you were starting to imagine another face instead of his own.

“That’s... unfortunate,” Javier was moving his food around the plate with his fork, staring down at his lap.

“We went into knowing there was an end date,” you said. “With people like us, there always is. Occupational hazard, sort of.”

“You don’t ever want something more?”

“Sure, someday. But I’m 22, I’m not looking for a husband or anything.” To be perfectly honest, you did it for the sex and the parties. That’s why most people did it. Either for sex or for companionship through a few countries. “It was fun, and, it’s not really over. Just open-ended. By December I’ll be traveling again, and who knows? We might run into each other. It happens all the time.”

“So you just go through your life having short flings? What’s the point then?”

“What’s the point? It’s fun,” you laughed, “And don’t you do the same thing? You visit the brothels all the time, I’m pretty sure that’s fun.”

“They’re informants,” he looked up at you, now smiling again.

“Sure they are, Javi,” you said.

“It’s different though. What I do, that’s not a relationship, it’s just...”

“Fun?” you filled in.

“I suppose so,” he said. He took a long pause before continuing again. “I was engaged once. Left her at the altar. I couldn’t drag her into all this, the DEA, it was too much.”

“God, Javi, that’s...” you didn’t know what to say. You didn’t think Javier was the sort of guy who would do that. He cared too much about people.

“It’s bad, I know.” Javier’s face flushed, but he knew it was the right decision. She was with someone better now. He hadn’t loved her as much as he thought he had. If he had, he would have gone right back to Texas. “But the whole dating thing, it’s supposed to mean something, isn’t it? You have sex with someone once, you can forget about them. Twice, and it’s maybe a coincidence. But three times? When you’re not paying for it? Then it means something.”

It was almost the end of the month. Emiliana’s daughter would be back in two weeks. You still didn’t have a place.

And instead of going out searching for one, you were heading over to Javier’s apartment for a drink.

He was given a place in an apartment owned by the embassy. Javier complained often enough that he hadn’t gotten to stay in the embassy complex where they had a full maid service and more consistent air conditioning, but it was full when he was assigned here. Supposedly he’d be moved when a single apartment opened up, but those were in high demand and DEA agents just didn’t get priority.

He knew you were coming over, so you walked up the outside stairs and found his name on the phone plate. You were about to push the button so he could buzz you in when some couple exited the building. You caught the door and slipped inside.

You jogged up the steps to the third floor where Javier’s door was. A woman, not much older than you, wearing a short pair of shorts and a black top that showed off most of her body, was exiting his apartment. You chuckled to yourself as she walked by you and down the stairs.

You knocked softly on Javier’s door, not sure if you really wanted to see him so shortly after whatever had happened. You heard a bit of shuffling before the door opened. He was fully clothed, thank god, you had no idea what would have happened if he wasn’t.

“So...” you said, smiling, “Who was that?”

Javier paled. “That was, um, she—”

“One of your... informants?” you asked.

“Yeah, I, uh,” he started.

“It’s fine, I know what you like to do,” you said, pushing past him into the living room. “Just, right before having me over? Cutting it a bit close, don’t you think? Or do you just run a tight schedule?”

Javier closed the door, and seemingly more relaxed. “I didn’t mean for it to go as long as it did.”

“Javi? Too much information,” you said, “Just tell me, can I sit down on the couch? Or does it need to be wiped down first?”

“Y/N? Shut up,” Javier was smiling that perfect smile again as the two of you burst into laughter.

next part

a/n; so i’ve been thinking about this fic since i started narcos, cause i don’t buy that javi is the way he is with women and emotions and alcohol because he left some woman at the altar. someone had to have done something to leave him like that.

so i was listening to un veneno by c. tangana and niño de elche and the lyrics really hit me as javier, and so this was loosly inspired by that. i’d highly recommend watching the music video if you don’t speak spanish since it’s really well translated there. it’s also sort of in the vein of call me by your name.

that said, this does end before season one and leaves javier as the person he is in the series. it’s gonna be sweet and fluffy and smutty, but it’s going to also be angsty, and i might have an epilogue in mind. i just don’t want to be misleading about it. if you want to be removed from the taglist becasue of this, i totally understand and am not offended at all, since this is really a passion project that i’m writing for myself. once mistakes like this is over i will be writing another multi chapter that’s a bit fluffier and less heavy and pretentious.

taglist; @pascalisthepunkest @turquiosenights @stillfangirlingbtw @mando-vibes @flower-petal-blooming @spookyold-saintjm @enchantedrhoses @creamysacrilege @lolwhateverlol @murdermewithbooks @nerdysuperchick

im so sorry if tumblr isn’t letting me tag you. i always come back after an hour and try to fix it, but i can’t always

#javier peña #javier pena #javier peña x reader #javier pena x reader #camila writes #rated t #under 5 #reader #angst?#angst #fluff #pedro fics #narcos fics #javi x reader #un veneno fic

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hushedhands · 4 years ago

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Challenge 74

Thanks for voting @winter-131! One easy thing you can do to encourage your friends to vote is just post that you voted on social media. It reminds people to vote, shows them that it can be fun, and makes them want to be one of the cool kids like you ❤️🤍💙 I hope you enjoy this Maxerica fight!

America knew that she was Illéa’s darling. The nation, rocked by tragedy in the wake of the rebel massacre that stole their King and Queen from them, took almost feverish delight in the freshly-crowned King Maxon’s brand new marriage to a humble girl from Carolina. The tabloids made it look like a dream from the outside, but inside the Palace all America saw were threats. Advisers sneered at her naive policy ideas, etiquette lessons with Silvia took on a desperate tenor as it suddenly became America’s responsibility to gracefully represent Illéa to the world, and there were always more rebels lurking somewhere in the shadows.

Now that Maxon wasn’t dating dozens of other women at the same time that he was courting her, America’s relationship with her new husband was better than ever. Still, they didn’t see much of each other. Now on nights when he didn’t take her on dates, it wasn’t because he was making out with Kriss Ambers, it was because he was still at work. America loved him with her whole heart, which made it all the more frustrating that she still didn’t know him very well.

One of their first major galas as a husband and wife took place in the gardens, because the Great Room was still being repaired from the rebel attack. The celebration was full of politicians who wanted to talk to Maxon and look at America, but even though America was only expected to stay quiet and pretty, she used the evening as an opportunity to practice the skills Silvia had been teaching her.

America moved on her own from cluster to cluster of important people, welcoming them to the Palace and thanking them for all of their “hard work in this difficult time”. She was both bored by how easy her job was and convinced she was doing it completely wrong all at the same time.

It felt like she’d been at it for hours, moving around the gardens like a bland, bejeweled ghost repeating herself over and over as if her unfinished business in life had been thanking people for coming to her party. In reality, maybe 45 minutes had passed, and she only had to make it a little longer until dinner would be served and she could take a break. Then, out of the corner of her eye, America spotted a familiar face and made a beeline toward her.

“Georgia, I can’t believe you and August decided to come.” America smiled.

Georgia offered America a perfunctory little curtsy and then looked across the garden for her husband, standing and talking to a few interested-looking military-types. “And I can’t believe all the times we risked out lives for the chance to be able to live openly in society, and this is what we get.”

America laughed, “Not worth it at all.”

“Not even close.”

“Hey, maybe we should start a new underground rebellion.” America offered.

“People who hate parties?” Georgia smiled wryly.

“We just run away, hide somewhere pretty, and periodically release manifestos about how boring this is.” America giggled as she gestured to the scene around them.

“I’m in.” Georgia immediately agreed. “Except, uh-oh, that’s interesting…”

“What?”

Georgia stepped closer to America and tilted her chin up to point at something happening over America’s shoulder. “Emiliana Chrystie found Maxon.”

“Who… the actress?” America blinked, turning to look back at her husband slowly so that the people around them wouldn’t notice the new direction of her attention.

“She married her way into one of the most influential families in Illéan politics, a complete caste climber…”

America cast a sidewise glance at Georgia, “Is that supposed to be bad? What do you call me, then?”

“I call you the wife of the man Emiliana is flirting with right now.” Georgia replied casually.

America didn’t see it at first. Maxon wasn’t doing anything out of the ordinary, really. He was smiling, laughing at something Emiliana had said. She was playfully running a finger along the shoulder of his jacket, but just to show him something. They were probably talking about fashion. It was a little familiar, sure, but Maxon was just being friendly. And were they standing a little close together? Maybe. But standing around isn’t exactly a scandalous activity.

Then America saw it. Maxon placed a hand on Emiliana’s upper arm, leant in, and whispered something that made Emiliana blush and giggle. Not only did America feel embarrassed that her husband would flirt like that with another woman in front of so many people, but she felt stupid for not seeing it right away. She felt taken advantage of, because she’d made all of those excuses in her mind for Maxon about why his behavior was probably perfectly appropriate.

America was used to seeing him treat women that way because that’s how she’d seen him treat everyone in his Selection. Meaningless, shameless flirting from morning until night. Had the Selection groomed her to accept this kind of behavior from Maxon unquestioningly? Was that one of its darker, more sinister functions? She wouldn’t even have noticed what was happening if Georgia hadn’t pointed it out to her.

“Look America, I know that Maxon will be the first king in Illéan history not to take a mistress—“

“What? They all took mistresses?”

“All of them.” Georgia nodded grimly.

“Not Clarkson—“

“All of them.” she repeated emphatically. “I know Maxon’s different, but this is a party full of the old guard: important figures from Clarkson’s reign. They might not know Maxon’s different yet, which means the women are probably already jockeying for their position in a secret, second Selection to become the King’s lover.”

The look on America’s face must have been obviously pained, because Georgia was quick to reiterate, “Obviously Maxon would never do anything like that to you—“

But America wasn’t so sure. They’d never talked about anything like this before. She knew he loved her, but how could she stop him from taking on a mistress if that’s what he really wanted? He was the King and she was just his pretty little wife. She excused herself early from the party, claiming she had a terrible headache, and she let her maids pamper her when she returned to her bedroom.

America curled up in bed in her fluffiest robe and hugged a pillow to her chest, thinking hard about the last occupant of this bedroom, Amberly. The whole room had been remade after the royal wedding, but these were still the walls that had once contained her. Had she known that Clarkson had a mistress? Had Maxon known? Was this something very normal for the royals, like seven-course dinners and having a vault full of crowns? Had Silvia simply forgotten to put this in her etiquette lessons? Had she just not gotten around to teaching America about it yet?

By the time Maxon made it to his bedroom next door, America had been alone for long enough that she’d moved from sadness to righteous indignation. She wasn’t here to be an ornament on Maxon’s arm, like a pair of cufflinks with a cute backstory behind them. She got dressed, put on her running shoes, and went next door to confront her spouse.

Maxon’d had just a little too much to drink that night, enough to make him giddy and make the hard edges on the world around him blur softly so that everything felt safe. Now he was in a pair of silky pajamas that felt especially inviting after the long day he’d had. He was tired in a pleasant way after a productive day with lots to show for his efforts. When America wasn’t waiting for him in his bed, he’d assumed it was because she’d wanted to sleep off her headache without being awoken by him when he returned upstairs. When she opened the door to his bedroom fully dressed and not at all sickly, it took him a sluggish moment to realize what was happening.

“My love? Are you alright?” Maxon asked.

“No.” America crossed her arms defensively. “We need to talk.”

“Oh dear.” Maxon sensed that she was unhappy, but his first thought was that someone at the party had said something rude to her. “I had thought, in light of the recent massacre, that the guests would comport themselves with appropriate sensitivity. What happened?”

America didn’t understand what he was talking about. She scrunched her eyebrows in confusion and replied, “You spent the whole night flirting with that actress.”

Maxon was taken aback. Nothing could have been farther from the truth. “Wha… the whole night? America, I most certainly did no such thing. I spent the evening currying favor with important dignitaries.”

“Emiliana Chrystie is an important dignitary now? So what does it take to win her favor?”

“America!” he was scandalized at the vulgar implication her tone carried. “This is entirely unbecoming behavior from you—“

“From me?! Maxon, you were flirting with another man’s wife right in front of me!”

“I was not!”

America cast him an incredulous look, which only made him more angry at the accusation, “America, I am not permitted to ignore the women at my parties. Yes, I spoke to Mrs. Chrystie, but I made absolutely no inappropriate advances toward her. How could you think I would do that to you?”

“Seriously? That’s all you ever did to me when we were dating!”

He frowned, “That’s entirely different.”

“Is it?”

“Yes, America! You weren’t the only one I was dating at the time. Now you’re my wife, in case you haven’t noticed, and our circumstances have changed.”

She didn’t appreciate his sass. “How would you feel if I started flirting with the men at our parties? What if I leaned in and whispered scandalous secrets in their ears, touching their arms, laughing while making eye contact? Should I try it?”

Maxon grew sullen, an acrid tone in his voice, “Didn’t you already do that with Aspen?”

America knew that was still a sore spot with him, even though he and Aspen had been good friends ever since the massacre. Still, the idea that Maxon deserved to flirt to his heart’s content because America had snuck off with Aspen a few times during his Selection was the height of arrogant hypocrisy, and America needed to nip it in the bud right now. “You chose between 35 women, I chose between 2 men, and you’re the one who gets to have affairs now?!”

“Affairs?! America, this is absolutely insane. I have to be allowed to talk to women without being accused of having an affair.”

“Maxon, you weren’t talking to her the way you talk to men. You embarrassed me, it was completely obvious that you found her attractive—“

“So now I’m allowed to talk to women as long as they look sufficiently plain?”

“That’s not what I’m saying, you’re twisting my words on purpose.” America accused.

“I have to twist your words to make any sense out of them.”

“Maxon!”

“I’m sorry that you feel embarrassed, America, but I didn’t do anything wrong.” he said in a tone that told her that the conversation was over.

America narrowed her eyes at Maxon and made the last move available to her, “I’m going to spend the weekend with my mother.”

“Good idea.” Maxon said, though it was the last thing he really wanted. He hated being alone in this enormous Palace. “Maybe she can make you see reason.”

America couldn’t stand that tone in his voice, the one he used to deliberately communicate that he didn’t care what she did as long as she stopped annoying him. She turned around, left his room, and closed the door behind her.

***

America awoke the following morning in her bedroom at her mother’s new estate. Though Maxon had gifted the place to Magda, and America had never truly lived here, Magda kept a bedroom specially for each of her children at her house, even Kota. Downstairs, America could just make out the sound of baby Astra loudly “talking” to her mom and grandma, the cutest delighted baby sounds in the world.

America only knew one thing for certain, she would not let Maxon have a mistress while he was married to her. She refused to be humiliated like that. She didn’t really know what options she had, because divorcing the King was illegal and Gregory Illéa had probably made the punishment something stupid like execution. But she could probably run away, either live here with her mother or take up residence in one of the monarchy’s many properties scattered all throughout Illéa. Or maybe she could flee to Italy and spend the rest of her days as a refugee with Princess Nicoletta. That didn’t sound horrible. There were amazing concert halls and museums containing the most gorgeous art in history in Italy. It was enough of a backup plan that America felt good enough to crawl out of bed and stumble downstairs for some breakfast.

When Astra spotted her from her place on Magda’s hip, she reached out her chubby baby hands and said, “Ayayayayayah!”

“That’s pretty close to America.” James smirked. He wore one of Magda’s flowery aprons, spatula in hand, standing near the stove where he was monitoring the progress of a fluffy, golden pancake.

“Our baby can talk!” Kenna cheered, smooching Astra on the cheek. “She’s a genius!”

“Ayayayayayayah…” Astra replied, now focused on the flowers in the vase in the middle of the table.

“Well, she’s working on it.” James allowed.

“Do you want to visit Aunt America?” Magda asked Astra, but really she was offering America a turn to snuggle with the wiggly toddler. America held out her arms gratefully and accepted her cute little offering.

“Ames, let’s go let her crawl around outside before breakfast.” Kenna encouraged. “She’ll be less squirmy while she eats if we do.”

America was happy to oblige. It was a gorgeous, misty summer morning out there. Gerad was already playing hard all the way across the enormous yard, but he paused to wave to America and Kenna when he saw them step out.

America lowered Astra to the soft grass and the baby took off.

“The groundskeepers do a good job of keeping ants and biting bugs away, so all I really do is follow behind and make sure she doesn’t try to eat any sticks or something.” Kenna rolled her eyes at her sweet, stick-eating baby.

Baby Astra was already off on her own adventure, wobbly, unsteadily creeping and crawling through the short, plush green grass.

“So… you showed up unannounced in the middle of the night…” Kenna said, trying to keep her tone casual.

“Mhmm.”

“Is it rebels?”

“No.”

“Would you tell me if it was?”

“Yes.”

“Okay…” Kenna didn’t press for more information. They just quietly strolled lazily behind Astra, watching her explore the world. America didn’t know how to tell her big sister that Maxon, who was beloved by their whole family, was also a shameless flirt who didn’t care that his actions hurt America. It was embarrassing, really. Why wasn’t she able to hold her brand new husband’s attention? It would only get harder the more he got used to having her around, right?

“No, baby—“ Kenna hurried forward and took a small rock from Astra’s hand, where it had been halfway to her mouth.

Astra made a noise of upset at being robbed like this.

“Dangerous.” Kenna told her daughter sternly, “No eating.”

Astra disagreed, clearly. She loudly vocalized her dissent until she caught sight of Gerad kicking around his soccer ball. Rock entirely forgotten, she changed course and started off on the long journey to the far side of the yard to play with her young uncle.

Kenna sighed, “It’s a miracle the human race survived this long.”

“Only because of moms like you.” America smiled at her big sister.

Kenna smiled back, proud of herself for joining a long, ancient heritage of women pulling rocks from babies mouths. Emboldened by her lineage, she encouraged America, “You can tell me anything, you know.”

“I know.”

“I’ll never ever judge you, I’m always on your side.”

America frowned, frustrated, “I just—“ she shook her head, wishing this didn’t feel like such a big deal. “I don’t know, it’s probably stupid! But also—“

Kenna shook her head, “If it’s got you this riled up, it might be a lot of things but it’s not stupid.”

America started from the beginning, telling Kenna all about how Maxon had flirted with that actress at the party, how Georgia had warned her that Kings always took lovers, how there was probably a shadow Selection happening right now, full of gorgeous women vying to become the King’s favorite. How Maxon completely brushed her off the night before. Said her concerns were crazy. Refused to apologize or promise to change his ways. And how she needed a backup plan in case he took on a mistress, because America refused to share him in that way ever again.

America was surprised that Kenna giggled when America was done.

“That doesn’t sound like you’re on my side, Kenna.” America accused.

Kenna put her hands up as if in surrender, “I just can’t imagine sweet, awkward Maxon taking on a lover.” she said the last word with all the scandal it deserved.

“Well, he’s not just sweet, awkward Maxon anymore. He’s the King now. Things are different.” America frowned.

“Ames, did you tell him that this is what you’re scared of? Does he know that his behavior gave you bad flashbacks to his Selection?”

“Yes! Well, no, not the first part. But he knows how it made me feel, he just doesn’t see any problem with flirting like crazy all the time.” America was exaggerating. It had only been one woman at one party, but it was the start of something that could spiral out of control really quickly.

Kenna thought it over for a moment and then said, “Huh. I wonder…”

“What?” America peeked over at her big sister curiously.

“I just wonder if maybe Maxon doesn’t know how to be around women… I mean, you told me that he hardly knew any girls before his Selection. That means by far, most of his interactions with women took place while he was dating them. Maybe he really doesn’t see anything wrong with being flirty, because that’s the only way he knows how to be around women.”

America scowled. So now, thanks to Maxon’s sheltered upbringing, she’d have to share him with a harem of women? Would there be a race to see who could provide him with a male heir fastest? What if America only had girls like Anne Boleyn? She’d read about her in the Palace library, and her story did not end well! Would Maxon execute her so he could marry one of his mistresses?

“Ames?” Kenna brought America back to the present. “Don’t spin this up into something that’s bigger than it is.”

“I’m not.” America lied.

“Maybe Maxon doesn’t even know about the whole… royal mistress thing.”

“How could he not know?”

“Well maybe he doesn’t think you know? You guys are changing a lot about the monarchy, maybe this was just something he wanted to quietly let go of…”

America sighed and tilted her head back. She already knew she was going to have to go back to the Palace after breakfast and talk this over with her husband, even though all she wanted was to hide here with her family and snuggle baby Astra all weekend. She loved Kenna, but sometimes talking over her problems with her big sister was too helpful.

***

America found Maxon looking glum on their bench in the gardens. It was a warm Saturday, and since summer was the slow season for the government, Maxon had the day off.

“Ames?” he was surprised she was back, and she didn’t miss how he seemed to perk up just from the sight of her.

America jumped straight to the chase, still totally prepared to turn around and head back to her mother’s house if this didn’t go well. “Did you know that kings are expected to have affairs?”

Maxon blinked, surprised, “I beg your pardon?”

“Georgia told me. Illéan kings are supposed to take mistresses after they marry.”

Maxon shook his head mutinously, “Northern rebels don’t know everything, Ames.”

“So it’s not true?” America challenged him.

Maxon paused a little too long.

“So it is true, and you know it.” America sank onto the bench next to him. “It’s pretty messed up that you made me feel crazy last night since you knew full well that all of those people expect you to take a mistress soon.”

Maxon looked stunned. Finally he confessed, “I didn’t… what I mean to say is, I had no idea it was some sort of rule. I knew… I knew my father…”

America turned to him, jaw dropped, realizing what he was saying. He’d caught his father having an affair, but he hadn’t realized that was expected for Illéan kings.

“Oh, Max.” America placed her hand over his and squeezed. “I’m so sorry. That’s awful.”

“Ames, I would never do that to you.”

America smiled, but she wasn’t entirely convinced, “Not even with a gorgeous young actress? I’m still eighteen, but what about when I’m old and wrinkly?”

He smiled wanly and pressed two featherlight kisses to the outside corners of her eyes, “I should be so lucky as to share a life with you that’s long and happy enough to lead to wrinkles…”

America’s stomach swooped at his honeyed words, but then she realized that that’s exactly how Emiliana had felt the night before.

“Maxon, you need to treat women the same way you treat men.”

“I’m sorry?”

“If a woman is a good friend of yours and you want to touch them, whisper to them, tell secret, risqué jokes with them—“

“I wasn’t—“

“Let me finish.” America insisted, and he fell silent. “I’m telling you that’s fine. But stop for just a second before you do it and make sure you’d do the same thing with a man. I think, maybe, you just don’t know how to socialize with women you’re not dating. You’ve never really had to do it before.”

Maxon let her words sink in, this time doing his best not to dismiss them out of hand. After all, the only woman outside of his family that he’d had much of a friendship with before his Selection was Daphne, and she’d walked away from him heartbroken because she’d thought he was in love with her. “America, you may be right.” he realized, appalled. “What do I do?”

America smiled at his lost little confused look, a startled princeling in a king’s crown. “Just like I said, try to treat them the exact same as men. It’ll take a lot of thought at first, but I’ll bet you’ll get used to it fast. Especially if you start adding women to your roster of advisers.”

Maxon looked down at his shoes, then squeezed her hand gently, “I’m so sorry I hurt you, Ames. I should have listened. I didn’t put it all together… the fact that those guests expect me to take a mistress, and the fact that I don’t behave the same way around women as men…”

“I know you won’t be perfect overnight, and I’m glad you haven’t secretly been planning to move your mistresses into the second floor—“

“God, no!”

“I didn’t know.” America blushed. “I just… after everything I’ve learned since your Selection started, I… I didn’t think you’d do it, but I just didn’t know…”

Maxon nodded grimly. He could understand how such a thing might just be believable to her. “You trust me, don’t you?”

“Absolutely.”

“Good. Then trust me when I say that I will never, ever have an affair. You are my wife, and I am perfectly content with my choice. I’ll do my best to make that clear to everyone else, too.”

America smiled, truly feeling the sun on her shoulders for the first time all day.

#the laws of inheritance #challenge #DemocracyHands

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heavensdog · 5 years ago

Text

A Graveyard Like A Picnic Spot

Another snippet! This one is for Nymbostratus, even though they’re the last RO to be introduced, and won’t be around for a while . . . .

The grave site is overgrown; grass looms high against your ankles, intermingled with wild flowers and grey stone; the overcast sky seems to be the only thing keeping it from looking like a picturesque picnic spot, rather than a gloomy reminder of the one thing that ties everyone together more surely than blood or culture.

Nymbostratus is busy, kneeling in front of one of the gravestones as you approach them, clearing away the dirt and weeds with a fevered sort of desperation. Their breathing is labored, but it's not until you hear a brief sniffle that you realize it's because they've been crying, and not because of how fast they're working.

It feels weird to see them like this -- in casual clothing, filled not with the righteous fury from earlier, but what you imagine is something more akin to grief, and you watch them for a moment. The sun glances off their bleached hair in a weak halo, reminiscent of chiaroscuro, a study of light and shadow, humanity and divinity existing in one ethereal frame, as darkness swallows up their face.

"Someone you miss?" you ask, as though you've never missed anyone in your life. They jolt, stumbling back, but don't quite manage to rise to their feet. Instead, they stare up at you -- and it's hard to read their expression. It's such a strange look -- like someone desperately needing to be saved; someone fooled into thinking they've found salvation but still knowing, deep in their heart, that things are broken.

Maybe they see something in your face too; their mouth twists, and their eyes slip to the side, coming to rest in front of the gravestone they're desperately trying to clean up.

". . . My mother," they say, at last, "Emiliana Encarnación."

"Nymbostratus your first name?" you ask; you weren't sure why you'd thought it wasn't, but you don't waste time searching your memories, either. Nymbostratus stares at the grave stone.

". . . Encarnación was her maiden name," they say, "She never married my father, but his name's the one on the birth certificate anyway."

There's a trace of bitterness; you wonder if, given the choice, Nymbostratus would be able to put their father forward in exchange for their mother. If there are some choices they'd make that they wouldn't be able to sleep with afterwards.

Is that what you did?

They turn away from you now, going back to their weeding; the dead flowers pile up by their side, and they don't move away as you crouch down next to them. Shouldn't they?

"Do you not get along with your father?"

You don't know why you're asking; Nymbostratus doesn't answer at first, either, and you think they'll ignore you completely for a moment, before they finally speak up.

"He's not my father," they say, "He . . . I'm not related to him at all. He's just on the birth certificate out of charity.”

"Oh," you suppose you can understand the bitterness, "That sounds complicated."

"I don't exactly see eye to eye with my siblings," Nymbostratus adds, "Even though I'm not going to inherit any of the business."

Their hands have slowed, peeling at a strand of grass at a time, "They all think my real father is some sort of criminal or something."

". . . I'm sorry?" you're not quite sure how to respond, so you offer up a tentative condolence; it doesn't seem to have much impact. Nymbostratus continues to stare ahead, their expression distant enough that you don't think they're really seeing the gravestone.

"It's fine," they say, finally, and then jolt, glancing over at you, "That's why I became an Agent of Heaven, though!"

Suddenly, they've closed the distance between you; you're crouched low, and they're on their knees, and so despite their usual height, you find yourself looking down at them, as they stare up at you, beseechingly, eyes unnaturally bright blue with magic (had they once been brown?) and salvation and something that could be hope, if there wasn't so much despair.

Only a heart torn in two will begin to wake up.

You wonder what happens to the other half; when you became an Agent of Heaven -- when Nymbostratus transformed -- did you lose something more than you'd realized?

"Whatever happened between my mom and my father, whoever my real father was, whatever my family thinks of me, Iriel believed in me!" they say; they've clenched one hand over their heart, as though they might keep it in place like that, "And they believe in you too! Iriel --"

"Don't try and convince me of anything," you interrupt, "Iriel's an idiot."

The words feel really good to say.

They shouldn't -- you know Iriel is trying their best; you know Iriel was just as unprepared as you were.

But if you could get your shit together, why couldn't they?

"They're naive and have no idea what they're doing," you continue, as though you can push the blame out of yourself, somehow; as though Iriel's shoulders are wide enough to carry what happened to you on them, "Iriel would believe you if you told them wishing on stars is enough for dreams to come true."

Nymbostratus stares at you, eyes searching your face, and you get the uncanny feeling that they can see right through you.

"You don't have to do this," they say, "You can come back."

Come back to what?

"No, thank you," you reply, "There's something I have to do."

Something passes over Nymbostratus's face, like a moment between clouds on a windy day, "Something or someone?"

They look away from you now; their hand falls from their chest and back to the grass by their side, "Iriel will be waiting for you."

You choke out a laugh, "Iriel, Iriel. What about you?"

"What about me?" you can see their weak point; the way they stiffen, like they know they don't want to hear what you have to say, but their daring you to say it anyway; daring themselves to listen.

Like staring down from the edge of a cliff; Nymbostratus has a thirst for self-destruction that echoes hollowly with your own, and you oblige, "I'll get in the way, y'know? Isn't it easier to tell yourself I'm just a rotten ex they're better off without?"

Their mouth twists.

"Maybe," they say, "But I don't believe in the easy way out. Iriel will be waiting for you."

They push themselves onto their feet, staggering -- you can't help wondering how long they were sitting like that, weeding, and how long their feet have been asleep -- and look down at you; shadows fall on their face, "Iriel will be waiting for you. If you're not a coward, you'll come back."

That's all they have to say, apparently; they turn their back on you, leaving you behind with their mother's half cleaned grave, in a graveyard like a picnic spot.

#e. nymbostratus #snippet #agent of heaven

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orumad · 6 years ago

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NAME: melly. NICKNAME: whatever u want bby. AGE: 24. FACE CLAIM: if i had to pick, parker posey. for no discernible reason other than that she’s the best. PRONOUNS: she/her. HEIGHT: 5′5. BIRTHDAY: dec 3.

AESTHETIC: a literal mess. for my oc writing i have a penchant for high class blue blood melancholia. sometimes i go thru my dusty southern gothic supernatural phases, too. i want more 70s stuff also ?? hot summer nights in a deadbeat town listening to pink floyd and smoking weed.

LAST SONG YOU LISTENED TO: sea of love by tom waits.

FAVORITE MUSE ( S ) YOU’VE WRITTEN: for my canons we all know it’s either dawn or riley from btvs just because it’s been years and i feel like they were so misunderstood in the fandom. my most recent fave is definitely cameron frye, with josh from clueless coming in a close second. as for the ocs, i really love jules. he’s just this glib depressive with more issues than sense. also emiliana is a fave. bitchy vegan yogi. what i aspire to be.

WHAT INSPIRED YOU TO TAKE ON YOUR CURRENT MUSE ( THAT YOU ARE POSTING THIS ON ): so, there are about 50 of them now. the most current is probably cameron frye and all it took was a gif set, i think. i primarily wanted to go for an au w cameron/sloane (which, still yes) but i also just really wanna grow cameron out more. the boy could use it, i feel.

WHAT’S YOUR BIGGEST INSPIRATION WHEN IT COMES TO WRITING: my partners for sure. writing or getting a reply to a super spicy or compelling thread is pure inspo to me, which ik is obvious but i feel that’s my primary source of inspo. ya’ll are champs.

FAVORITE TYPES OF THREADS: god, all of them. i’m a whore for angst, or things that move a narrative. fluff is, ofc, always highly loved. some of my faves are just sittin chillin n talkin.

BIGGEST STRUGGLE IN REGARDS TO YOUR CURRENT MUSE: always have the struggle of losing muse for a thread out of nowhere, just not being able to find the right response in my head. also right now just the sheer amount of threads. all of the ones i’m in are so good and i wanna give the deserved luv n attention to each one, which evidently takes days for me.

tagged by: @floralege tagging: @decdbutstillprxtty ; @themonstrovs ; @marredset ; @tigereyesmuse ; @lcokingfortrouble ; @lovsself ; if you’re reading this, i tag you. (also remember to stretch).

#( ooc . )#( dumb bitch tag . )

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emilianadarling · 2 years ago

Note

For the ask meme, 28 or 25?

Weird Questions for Writers (because writers are weird)

28. Who is the most delightful character you’ve ever written? Why?

It took me a solid twenty-four fucking hours to think about this one before the answer came to me:

BABY GROGU IN 'WARRIOR'!!!! NO QUESTION NO COMPETITION!!!!!!

Fuck, that child is both the cutest and the BEST. So young but with such hidden depths. Writing Grogu -- and, honestly, the effect Grogu has on others around him -- has been hands-down the most delightful character I've ever written, period.

To sum it up in one sentence:

His itty-bitty nose is smaller than the pad of Luke’s finger when he goes to boop him on it.

HOW MUCH MORE DELIGHTFUL CAN IT GET?!?!

#weird writer questions #emiliana replies to things #i perhaps didn't fully realize when I started writing warrior that i would in fact be writing a kidfic in a sensel #but damn what a blast it was i REALLY enjoyed writing grogu #and having him as a main primary character with a fundamental emotional and plot function #we fuckin rad #dinluke #only as strong as the warrior next to you

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floralicious · 7 years ago

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(I’m just gonna keep on waiting) Underneath the Mistletoe

Cross posted on ao3

Summary: In which Lucy hangs some mistletoe with the hopes of kissing her dream girl, and Alfendi pretends not to help her.

Relationships: Lucy Baker/Katrielle Layton

Rating: General Audiences (I think there’s one curse word but not like a super bad one)

A/N: Guys I wrote this at four in the morning on December 23rd so I could make some quick edits and get it out on Christmas so my deepest apologies for the incohesive and slightly out-of-character writing. I know it's not the best but I really wanted to get this out while Christmas was still here! My school didn't get out until December 22nd (!!! I'm angery !!!) so I have had uuhhh zero time to write this idea which has been bouncing around my head for the whole month. Anyway hope you enjoy!

Happy holidays!!!

If anyone asked, he would swear he tried to discourage her.

Technically, he did. But alas, there was no stopping Lucy when she got it in her head that the Mystery Room should feature mistletoe for the duration of December.

She already had the stepladder out to hang it in the doorframe when he walked into work on the second day of the month.

“Oh, hey, Prof! Look at this,” Lucy said. She waved a bunch of mistletoe around. “Some bloke on the street was selling it. Isn’t it a perfect decoration?”

“Sorry, Baker, but the Mystery Room is a strictly mistletoe-free zone,” Alfendi replied. Lucy made some sort of sputtering noise in protest. She opened her mouth to speak, but Alfendi put up a finger.

“Before you say anything,” he said, “Let me explain. Reason one: we really have enough decorations.” At this he pointed to the rather obtrusive plastic tree on Lucy’s desk.

“Reason two,” he continued. “Life is awkward enough without the possibility of being caught under mistletoe with your coworkers. And finally, reason three: last time I tried hanging mistletoe in here, there were some really scarring experiences for everyone involved.”

“Oh.” Lucy took her foot off of the stepladder. “But… it really completes the decorations! And we can make new memories with it!” She gestured to the generous amounts of tinsel and lights strung around almost every object in the room. “Look how well it would go with my tree!”

At that moment, Alfendi realized what Lucy’s true motive was. Or at least suspected. At the time he was about 93.7 percent sure that Lucy wanted to get caught with Katrielle under the mistletoe.

Contrary to Katrielle’s belief, he knew it wasn’t just platonic interest when she asked him for Lucy’s mobile number. Or when they went to dinner together- without him as a middleman. Nonetheless, both women denied that anything was going on whenever he broached the subject.

“You know what? Let’s do it,” he said. Would it be so bad to help a friend out? “What’s the worst that can happen?”

Lucy jumped right back on the stepladder. “Thanks, Prof! This will be the best December ever!”

In the end, the mistletoe really caused more problems than he expected. Cut to December 10th. Over a week had passed without any mistletoe incidents, though it had hung over every person to pass through the Mystery Room door.

He supposed he had been in a bit of a rush that morning. He overslept, his own coffee machine was broken, the local coffee shop was crowded, and to top it all off, traffic was hell.

So when Alfendi ran into the Mystery Room that morning, he didn’t realize Lucy was crossing the threshold at the same time he was.

The two hit each other and stumbled to the floor. Alfendi sat up, and saw that Lucy was just laying facedown on the floor.

“Lucy? Are you alright?” he asked. “Uh, sorry- here.” He stood and offered her his hand. Lucy looked up at him. Her eyes were bright with mischief. She took his hand and planted a kiss on the palm.

He raised his eyebrows. “Why, Lucy. I hardly think-”

“Look, Prof!” She quickly stood up before he could say anything more. “Mistletoe, remember?”

“...Ah.”

“Nothing like that, silly. You miss your alarm this morning too?”

And the day continued. That was the first time the mistletoe had caused a problem, albeit a minor one, but it wasn’t to be the last.

The next mishap happened only two days later. Alfendi was showing Emiliana Perfetti from her division to his own in preparation for a case they would be collaborating on. Emiliana was a rather fast walker for her height, and he struggled to keep up as she breezed through the halls. He managed to get through the door at the same time she did, not realizing his mistake.

“Caught you!” said Lucy from her desk. She crossed her arms. “Another person at last!”

“What?” Emiliana said, in that disturbingly calm voice of hers. “I don’t understa- oh.” Her gaze followed Alfendi’s to the mistletoe above them. “Ms. Baker, if you think I’m going to go along with your scheme, I am afraid that you’re sorely mistaken.”

Alfendi took her hand. “Don’t worry, Perfetti. It’s nothing personal. If I may?”

She nodded reluctantly. “If only because you have been competent so far on this case of ours… And I suppose I could do with a bit of Christmas spirit.”

Alfendi ducked down to quickly peck the back of her hand. “There. Now, Lucy, if you’ll allow us to work..”

He thought that was that. The first true bout of awkwardness the mistletoe had caused was over, and hopefully no more would occur. He was proven wrong, however, when the very person Lucy was hoping for came through the door two hours later with her assistant.

“Hey, Al!” Katrielle said. “Why are you looking at me and Ernest like that? You’re sort of… glaring above our heads?”

“I would suggest that you both look up.” Oh, this was bad. Bad for Lucy, anyway. Maybe good for that assistant of Kat’s. At least Lucy was out on business at that moment.

Katrielle and Ernest looked up at the same time. Katrielle grinned and kissed Ernest on the cheek before he could comprehend what was happening.

“Oh… Miss Layton…” Ernest said as a blush rose to his cheeks. He looked oddly similar to a tomato in that moment, Alfendi thought.

He directed his glare at his sister. In the space of a few seconds, they had a silent exchange.

Alfendi twisted his face into an expression that inexplicably said “Stop leading him on.”

Now Katrielled raised her own eyebrows. “I’m really not,” the face said.

“Oh, really? What about the fact that you’re very much not interested in men, yet just kissed the one hopelessly in love with you?” was the silent reply. Or something along those lines. It was a difficult thing to convey without words, but Katrielle got the message.

She looked away. Now she was blushing.

“Anyway,” Alfendi said with a pointed look at Katrielle, “What’re you here for?”

“Um, a- a c-c-ase,” Katrielle stuttered. “Definitely not a specific person or anything! Nope! Just a detective and her trusty very platonic assistant!”

“Alright, fill me in.”

In retrospect, maybe Alfendi shouldn’t have let his little sister off the hook so easily. Maybe he should’ve called her later to get her to confess her feelings. But he figured it was for her and Ernest and Lucy to work out, not him.

The next time it happened was the 21st day of December.

Lucy and Alfendi were working in silence, finishing up some paperwork that needed doing. The door creaked and Lucy looked up, presumably hoping to see Katrielle.

“Hi, Hilda,” she said. Alfendi looked up. Indeed, Hilda Pertinax stood in front of him, intimidating as ever.

“Ah, Ms. Pertinax. I’ve been expecting you,” he said.

“Alfendi Layton. Don’t tell me you forgot today was the solstice, you prick.” She was wearing her signature coat properly today, accompanied by what Alfendi assumed was a fashionable scarf wrapped around her neck. She looked almost like the angel on top of Lucy's tacky tree, golden hair floating around her shoulders.

“I resent that! I did not forget, thank you! Or did you not hear me say I’ve been expecting you?” Alfendi replied.

“Hmph. Oh, and Lucy. Merry Christmas, dear. Or whatever.” Hilda rooted around in her purse and drew out a gift card to a popular cafe chain. She gave it to Lucy.

“Thanks much, Hilda. You really didn’t have to do anything for me, y’know…” Lucy said. “What’s this about then?”

“Al and Justin and I have always celebrated the winter solstice together. It became a tradition- one Al always forgets about, might I add- since our first year of uni. The snow was awful that year, no trains going anywhere, so we had to stay at school. And now, well, we get lunch and give each other cheap gifts,” Hilda said.

“I actually spent more than ten pounds on your present this year, so mine better be good. Anyway, the lunch hour is ticking away, so let’s get out of here,” Alfendi said. He stood up and went to put on his coat. “Any interest in tagging along, Lucy?”

“Work awaits, as per th’ usual, Prof,” she replied.

“Alright, well, see you later.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Lucy twirled her pen in her fingers as Hilda and Alfendi started to leave. He really wasn’t expecting it when Lucy yelled “Wait!” It was an extremely loud yell- one she usually reserved for when she solved cases.

“Godamnit, Lucy!” he said. “What was that for?”

She silently pointed to the top of the doorway. The odd couple looked up.

“Of course,” Hilda said. “And here I thought you learned your lesson about mistletoe.”

“I have learned. It was Lucy’s idea,” Alfendi grumbled.

“Rules are rules, Prof,” Lucy said. “Two people end up under the mistletoe, they hafta kiss.”

Hilda put on a dry smile. “Shall we? For old times sake?”

“Hmph. Back when you thought you liked men and I thought I didn’t. Come here, then,” he said. And they kissed. Rather too passionately for friends, Lucy thought, but she supposed they did have a history. She watched as they walked away, both laughing as Alfendi tried to get Hilda’s lipstick off of his face.

After the solstice incident, Alfendi was genuinely worried that Lucy’s plan would never come to fruition. Every time Kat had come into their workplace that month had been a bad one, and he knew how much the two needed to resolve their obvious sexual tension.

Eventually, he took matters into his own hands and dialed up his sister.

“Alfendi, can this wait?” said Katrielle’s voice, tinny through his phone.

“I know you aren’t busy, shut it. You’re probably just waiting around for a case and playing with Sherl. Am I correct?”

“100 percent,” Kat sighed. “So what can I do for you?”

“I’m also 99 percent sure you won’t be doing anything at the time of the holiday party at the Yard tomorrow. Which you are expected to be at, as usual, and I also need you to be in my office ten minutes early. If you value your safety, don’t ask questions. Just be there,” Alfendi said.

“Al, I really don’t see why-”

“Nope! No questions!” he cut her off. “Be there. You’ll thank me later, I promise.” And Alfendi hung up.

The next day was Christmas Eve. Most of the Yard worked right up until or even on Christmas Day, so the party was always held the day before.

Fifteen minutes before, Alfendi set his trap.

“Lucy, would you do me a favor and stand under the mistletoe? It’s for a case. ‘The Merry Murderer,’ they’re calling it.”

“I s’pose?” Lucy did as he asked. She looked exceedingly confused.

“Thank you. Just… stay there. You’ll see.” Alfendi backed away slowly. He pretended to inspect the case file, being very careful not to look at the open door.

He didn’t have to pretend for long, though. Not five minutes later, Katrielle walked in and stopped next to Lucy.

“Oh! Kat! Good to- er- good to see you!” Lucy said, blushing.

“Alfendi, what is all this about? You better have a good reason for this! I’m actually on time for once.” Katrielle was unusually composed for someone wearing a hat with a puffball on it.

Alfendi turned around and tried to look surprised. “Oh, you’re here. Well. Kat. Kitty. Sister. Katrielle. Look up,” he said, smiling mischievously.

Lucy realized before Kat did. She turned a rather worrying shade of red, not unlike Ernest had.

“Prof! You didn’t- you couldn’t have-”

“Whatever you’re thinking, I didn’t do it. I really did need you there for a case,” Alfendi said, holding up the case file.

Kat glared at him. “You dirty-”

“Ah ah ah. Mistletoe first!”

Alfendi technically discouraged the kissing. He did avert his eyes when Lucy and Katrielle kissed, and shoved them out of the doorway, so if anyone asked, he had no idea what was happening while he was at the party.

And when he got a text from Katrielle the next morning with numerous heart emojis, he knew the mistletoe was probably worth all of the trouble it caused.

end

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