#story fragments

[elucubrare]

Doctor Valeris gave a quick, cool press of the hand, and gestured me to a chair. “Tell me what happened,” she said, with no further preamble. I closed my eyes — on the insides of my eyelids danced scenes of glory and conquest, as they had for the past three weeks - and tilted my head back. “I’d hired out as a guard to an archaeologist up in the steppes. We spent a week riding around barrows, with nothing more than a couple of wolves to bother us. Then he reread a text or something, and pointed us further north. Have you been up there, doctor? Probably not. It’s so big. The sky, sure, but everything. No trees for a hundred miles, just you and the horse and a few mounds where no one alive has walked for three hundred years, and the wind. I remember there was one tree, though, where it shouldn’t be. It was the tallest thing there, and it felt like a mountain. An oak, tall and straight despite the wind that had scoured anything taller than a barberry bush off the face of the world. The archaeologist bent and scraped some earth off a rock between its roots. He pulled a crowbar off his horse’s equipment and pried it up. ‘After you,’ he said, and I went down. That’s when the ghost entered me.” The doctor nodded. “Let me read the statement back to you. ‘I had been entombed under the strength of oak for centuries. I had begun to fear that I would never again feel a horse surge into a gallop under me, or the wind in my hair; that I had failed the ritual; that the promises of the gods were naught but lies.’” She paused. A muscle in my jaw clenched and then relaxed, but I stayed quiet. “’At last there came a breath of fresh air: a wind from the outside, and with it, a bright spirit. Ah, I thought, the gods spoke true. I am fortunate indeed. She is my kin, and she will serve me well. She is thrice bound to me.’” The doctor waited for a response. “That’s not what I said,” I told her, firmly. “No,” Valeris responded. “But it’s what I heard."

[foggyfanfic]

Love and Fury Deleted Scenes

This was the second of three chapters that I cut all at once. This trio of chapters was replaced by the chapter where Bruno wakes up after having the vision of Cicero's trial and he spends the day being either angry or panicked. That chapter borrowed so heavily from the first of this trio that there's only tatters left of it. So under the cut is a quick summation of what the first chapter was, then the second chapter of the trio. (The third will need its own post cuz this one would get too long even with the cut if I tried to combine them).

Lat time on chapters I deleted because they weren't jiving with the story: After getting knocked out by a surprise vision, Bruno has a dream that may or may not be prophetic. In the dream he kisses Leandra, but wait, what's this? He has actually woken up and that last part was not actually a dream, he just kissed Leandra while she was sleeping. As soon as he realizes what he's done, he scrambles off the couch they were sleeping on, apologizing so much that Leandra doesn't get the chance to fully wake up and figure out wtf he's apologizing for before he's out the door. He goes home and has a conversation with Pepa about consent that very blatantly juxtaposed an actual mistake/misunderstanding (Bruno) and coercive tactics (Cicero) in a way that I found slightly too heavy handed. (One of the reasons I cut these chapters was because I felt like they brushed past Bruno discovering Cicero is a rapist too quickly in favor of the characters parroting my own opinions). At the end of the chapter Bruno vows to tell Leandra what he did and accept whatever punishment she sees fit.

“So, is there something you wanted to tell me?”

Leandra stared at Bruno. Bruno stared at his feet.

“Anything at all?”

Bruno just gulped, grimacing miserably.

The week after the accidental kisses had been a bit of a mess, or at least, Bruno was a bit of a mess in the week after the accidental kisses.

He’d tried talking to her at church, but all he was able to do was stutter and throw salt around. Eventually, Cicero had interrupted them and made a point to monopolize her attention until Rosalie arrived.

Bruno had been so overwhelmed by the fury he’d felt at the bastard, he’d had to walk outside to keep himself from punching him right then and there.

How had everybody else carried around the knowledge that Cicero was a serial rapist for so long without snapping? After knowing for a couple hours, Bruno had discovered a whole new side of himself he’d never dreamed existed. A side that was a little more violent than he thought he was capable of, a side that wouldn’t mind seeing Cicero’s head on a stake. This guy had ruined Rosalie’s life and had the nerve to still be upset she’d rejected him, he’d tried to rape multiple women, including Pepa, and now he was most likely planning to rape Leandra as well.

Leandra, who had protected Pepa from being raped. Was it possible for Bruno to fall any more in love with her than he had been already?

He’d spent the rest of Sunday and the entirety of Monday in a bit of a fugue state. He was only vaguely aware of the world continuing on around him as he was buffeted around by his rage at Cicero, gratitude towards Leandra, worry for Pepa, and shame over what he’d done.

On Tuesday he’d shown up to the cheese stall, determined to admit all to Leandra, but when he saw her he’d clammed up. He sat there all day trying to figure out how he should even start the confession, and before he knew it, she was packing up to leave.

On Wednesday he paced up and down the mountain path to her home for the entire afternoon. He wrote a script for himself on Thursday, but the stall was so busy that Bruno had to jump in and help Leandra a couple of times, so they didn’t get the chance to talk. Friday, Bruno had rushed through his script in one breath, quickly enough that Leandra wasn’t able to understand a word he’d said.

Now it was Saturday, and Leandra had opened her back door to find Bruno frozen with his hand raised to knock. She had a freshly filled watering can in her hand, and she’d sloshed a little of the water onto his toes when she’d startled at finding him there.

He’d opened his mouth to talk, and only a strange croaking sound came out. After a few beats of staring at each other she’d invited him to join her in the garden as she cared for some of her herbs.

Leandra made some attempts to ease his nerves by talking to him, but it only served to remind him how kind she was, and how horrible he felt for taking the liberties he had taken.

Soon, the sun was setting and Bruno still hadn’t said a word.

Leandra sighed, “Alright, well, how about you walk me to the Guzmans’ place? Give you a little extra time to pluck up the nerve to say whatever it is.”

He only chuckled ruefully. He doubted a thousand years would be enough time for him to “pluck up the nerve”.

The walk down the mountain was stiff and awkward. At one point she had asked if he would also be attending the Guzmans’ dinner party and he had managed a slightly strangled “Sí”.

When they got to Casa de Guzman, Leandra caught Bruno’s hand and tugged him to the side, behind a bush, so they weren’t blocking the main path.

“Ok, look Bruno, whatever it is I can’t promise I won’t be angry, but I can promise I will let you explain before I make any judgements, deal?” Leandra tried, she watched him for a while, then made a frustrated sound, “Come on Bruno, I miss you. Please, just talk to me?”

“I-It’s bad, and I’m afraid you’re going to not hate me,” Bruno blurted, then when she looked confused he rushed to explain, “I mean, at first I was worried you’d hate me for it, but now that I’ve had time to think… I’m worried you’re not going to let yourself be angry at me b-because of how much of a mess I’m being. And you should, you-, I-, you have every right to be angry at me, even though I didn’t mean to.”

“Didn’t mean to what? What? Was it the vision you had? Did you see something you think I wouldn’t want you to see?”

Bruno shook his head.

“Ok, then… did you dream you did something bad? Did you wake up with your hand somewhere private? Did… did you have morning wood? What?”

Bruno felt his face burn, but he had to admit, it was a little encouraging that she was so close to the truth. She didn’t seem to find the idea of him sleeping next to her with a boner at all upsetting.

On the other hand, he couldn’t explain what he’d done without also admitting he frequently dreamed about kissing her. A boner could be explained as their bodies accidentally rubbing together in the wrong place, but him dreaming about her? What would she think of him once he admitted how much he’d fantasized about her? 

What if she felt uncomfortable around him once she knew how much he wanted her? Worse, what if she felt uncomfortable around him, but tried to shove her own feelings aside because she felt sorry for him?

“Bruno! That you?” Félix suddenly appeared, startling both of them. Pepa was at his heel, and behind her Julieta walked arm in arm with Agustín. Their Mamá brought up the rear.

“Oh, hola,” Leandra stepped back into the path, smiling politely, as if everything was alright, “we were just waiting for you guys. I don’t know the Guzmans that well. I’m honestly surprised they invited me.”

She very tactfully refrained from mentioning that Bruno wasn’t the best person to go to if you needed help conversing with a distant acquaintance.

“Ah, that is my doing,” Señora Madrigal said, “I mentioned the custom hand cream you made for me, and Señora Guzman wants to ask if you’d make something for her daughter’s wedding gift.”

Leandra fell into step beside Alma, asking about the bride to be and her preferences, while Bruno ended up squeezed between Félix and Pepa.

“So? Did you get through it this time?” Pepa asked. He had kept her abreast of the entire saga.

“No, but I was close. I-I’m going to walk her home and try again,” he said, sounding about as cheerful as somebody could when they were struggling to confess a wrong doing.

“What’s happening?” Félix asked.

“I’m a horrible person,” Bruno stated, keeping his voice casual.

“Are you now?”

“Sí.”

The conversation briefly halted as they entered the house and greeted their hosts. When the greetings were given and the party goers were left to wait for the rest of the guests, they continued whispering.

“No, he just made a dumb mistake,” Pepa said, “he’s been trying to talk to her about it all week, but he’s a nervous wreck and keeps messing up.”

“I kissed her while she was sleeping, that’s a little bit more than a dumb mistake.”

“You? Bruno Madrigal, the guy who apologizes if he looks at a woman too many times in a conversation. You kissed a girl while she was asleep? How did that happen?”

“Oh! That’s what I asked,” Pepa said, brightly, “they fell asleep on the couch together and he was only half awake when he did it.”

“It’s still not okay,” Bruno hissed.

“Hm, you want help? Talking to her, I mean?”

There was a knock at the door and Bruno rushed to answer Felix while the hostess stood to let the other guests in, “No, no, I think this is the sort of thing I have to do myself. B-but I appreciate the offer, Félix. Gracias.”

They reached the table and everybody shuffled around until they were all seated. Bruno made a point to sit next to Leandra, since she had mentioned missing him. He didn’t think he’d manage to say anything intelligent that evening, but hopefully she would recognize the gesture as his attempt to stay connected to her.

Indeed, she gave him a quiet smile, and even squeezed his hand under the table before turning to greet the eldest Guzman daughter and her new fiancé, as they sat down across from them.

Pepa sat on Leandra’s other side, and the two of them ended up in deep discussion with the recently engaged couple about the meanings of certain flowers.

Félix was sat between Pepa and Señor Guzman, who was a good friend of Félix’s father. The two chatted about the mill, and Señor Guzman’s work as the town architect.

To Bruno’s surprise, Mamá had Agustín sit next to her, with Julieta on his other side. As dinner got under way, she even seemed to be making an effort to include him in the conversation. At one point Señora Guzman was talking about potential baby names and Mamá turned to Agustín and asked him if he’d thought about baby names.

“Oh, w-well I always wanted to name my first daughter after my Má, a-and Juli and I were thinking that your middle name would be good for either a boy or girl, Señora Madrigal. Although we’d change it to Luis for a boy, obviously,” Agustín rambled.

“And maybe one of Pá’s middle names, if we have a third,” Julieta jumped in, sending a nervous glance at her Mamá, “maybe Mariano for a boy, or something close to it for a girl.”

“Oh, Mariano is a lovely name, and such a good way to honor your father,” Señora Guzman said, “do you mind if I bring it up with my daughter?”

“Not at all, we’re a little more attached to ‘Juan’,” Julieta admitted, “but we can’t name a daughter ‘Juanita’, Agustín’s cousin has called dibs on that name.”

“Your abuela’s name on your padré’s side was Mirabel,” Alma said, “and your abuelo was named Camilo.”

“I like the name Mirabel, it’s pretty,” Agustín said to Julieta, she nodded, “and we can go back to your padré’s names if we have a boy.”

“Sí, that sounds perfect.”

“I hope you don’t mind my asking, when are you two planning to get engaged?” Señora Guzman asked, and two sets of nervous eyes zipped to Alma.

Bruno took a long drink from his glass, and did his best to look like he was invested a normal amount in this conversation.

“Oh, as you might have noticed they’ve been unofficially engaged for quite some time, but,” Alma leaned in and dropped her voice, “the boy is a romantic and my Juli is as busy as she is difficult to surprise. They could announce the engagement at any time, but the poor boy is determined to ‘do this right’.”

Juli was practically glowing with happiness and the young couple exchanged gleeful looks.

As the dinner carried on Bruno occasionally spoke to Juli and Agustín, but for the most part he spent the dinner doing his best to look politely interested in the conversation the youngest two Guzmans were having across the table. He wasn’t sure what anyone’s name was, other than Guzman, but he knew the boy was about nineteen or twenty, he would lose his apprenticeship next year and end up following in his dad’s footsteps instead.

The girl was about sixteen or seventeen, and she had recently come by to ask Bruno about a boy she had a crush on. Bruno had reluctantly told her the boy was going to marry her best friend, who was sitting on her other side. He was glad to see that the two girls were still close, he never would have forgiven himself if he’d ended a friendship.

He was also fascinated to note that the boy the youngest Guzman was going to marry, was sitting next to her future brother in law. He couldn’t tell if the girl was aware of her future husband, but her future husband was very aware of her.

“Oh, if you want to put poems in your vows, Bruno could probably point you in the right direction. He knows almost as much about literature as Señor Cortez,” Leandra said, drawing his attention with a gentle hand on his wrist.

The young couple turned hungry eyes on Bruno, clearly desperate to avoid the lecture on Shakespeare they would receive if they went through the shoemaker.

“Oh? What would you recommend?” the soon to be bride asked, “We want love poems, obviously, preferably by the same writer. Something beautiful but not…”

“Too long?” the soon to be husband filled in, waiting for his bride’s nod before tacking on, “Or cliché. We don’t want anything too cliché.”

“O-oh, um how about a verse from Dolores Cabrera’s ‘Les Violetas’? It has a lot of love poems, a-and most people use Neruda if they’re doing the whole uh, wedding thing so, so uh it probably isn’t… cliche,” Bruno said, rubbing at his arm.

The bride smiled at him, “That sounds perfect, is it at the library?”

“Ah, no. But I have a copy! I can-, you can borrow it for- if you’d like.”

Both of them were smiling at him now, the groom nodded, “If you wouldn’t mind?”

“No, no, I don’t mind.”

“Wonderful! Muchas gracias, señor.”

Bruno nodded, then caught his mother’s eye. She gave him an approving smile and he felt warmth spread through his stomach. When he glanced at Leandra she flashed him a little thumbs up, as if they were in on some scheme together, and it was going well. He couldn’t help but smile back at her.

For the rest of dinner, Bruno was included in the wedding conversation. He even found the opportunity to share some of his favorite wedding themed superstitions, none of the scary ones of course, just ways for the young couple to invite good luck into their special day.

“I could put blue ribbons in my hair,” the bride said brightly, when Bruno mentioned that wearing blue on your wedding day ensured you’d always be loyal.

The husband gave her a loving look, “Then I will lace my shoes with blue laces.”

Pepa and Leandra made matching “aaaw” sounds, and the bride glowed at the attention.

Leandra smiled as Bruno opened up a little. It was nice to see some of the tension leak out of his shoulders after he’d been a panicked mess all week.

She still had no clue what had freaked him out. Her first thought had been that he felt their sleeping on the couch together was inappropriate and somehow his fault, but his nerves hadn’t been at all soothed when she admitted that she’d had the chance to disentangle herself from him and go to her own bed. 

Now Leandra figured she was probably on the right track with the morning wood thing, it was the face he had made when she mentioned it. Guilty, embarrassed, but also somewhat relieved.

If whatever he did was sexual in nature, she doubted he did it on purpose. He was too freaked out by it. But weirdly enough, she kind of liked the idea of waking up to Bruno doing sexy things to her. In her mind, golden sunlight streamed onto soft sheets as Bruno woke her up with sweet caresses and gentle love bites.

Then they could make lazy love, cuddle for a little, and have breakfast together while they basked in the afterglow. It would be nice.

Leandra glanced at Bruno while he chuckled at Pepa’s joke about cake. She decided then and there that if Bruno told her he’d accidentally groped her in her sleep or something, she would tell him he was free to do it on purpose next time. She should have told him about her feelings weeks ago, maybe whatever was happening now could have been avoided if she had.

Dinner wrapped up, and dessert passed with much complimenting of the hostess’ baking skills. They all shuffled into the garden for a night cap, and Leandra ended up leaning against the back garden wall with Félix.

They chatted about Felipe for a bit, since he was the common thread between them, then the conversation turned more serious.

“I really want to get things with Cicero wrapped up as quickly as possible, waiting to hash things out with Bruno is just causing more problems,” she sighed, watching the man in question stand awkwardly between his sisters while they conversed with the Guzman siblings.

“We don’t want to rush,” Félix said, in a placating voice, “if we’re reckless about this you could be hurt. And I’m not about to let that happen.”

“I know, I know,” she crossed her arms, “but still, this has carried on long enough. When is the next big party?”

“The Baking Competition at the end of the month,” he rubbed at the back of his neck, “it… would work. Everybody will be there.”

“Perfect, then I’ll invite him to that. Did Felipe say if he’d help?

“He’s willing, but he has the same doubts that I do.”

“Well, did he have a better idea?”

Félix sighed, instead of answering her question he double checked, “Are you sure you want to do this, hermana? It’s pretty soon, and a lot could go wrong.”

“Sí, I want this done. I don’t think I’ll be able to keep Cicero at bay for much longer anyways,” she was about to say more, but when she glanced at the the others to see if anyone was paying attention to them she was startled to find Señora Madrigal standing a few feet away.

What was this? Sneak up on Leandra Day?

“Oh no, please, don’t stop on my account,” Alma said cooly, “I do believe you were in the midst of planning to do something reckless.”

They gulped and exchanged a glance, Félix pressed his lips together and made a “Go ahead” gesture at Leandra. She grimaced but took a deep breath and squared her shoulders.

[This paragraph was stolen and rewritten for the chapter where Leandra convinces Felix to help her catch Cicero at the baking competition in the published story. It's literally just Leandra saying she can't live like this any longer and wants to make sure Cicero makes his attempt when she's ready for it.]

Alma pursed her lips, but otherwise her face gave nothing away. Leandra struggled to keep her head held high under the village leader’s sharp gaze. Just when she was about to break and send Félix a pleading look for his support, Señora Madrigal nodded.

“Very well, come visit me tomorrow, both of you. We will talk. For now, go, mingle. Act like nothing in the world is wrong.”

“Sí señora,” they chorused together, fleeing into the party. Félix made his way to Pepa’s side, while Leandra sought out Señora Guzman to ask about the bride’s wedding gift.

Soon after that, people began yawning, and the night began winding down. Goodbyes were said, then conversation picked back up, then goodbyes were said again. 

Heart in his throat, Bruno offered to make sure Leandra got home safe. He frowned when both Pepa and Félix not-so-subtly wished him luck while Señora Guzman handed Leandra a lantern for the walk home.

Leandra giggled at Pepa and Félixs’ complete lack of subtlety, “Gracias Bruno, I would appreciate the escort.”

“Great, good, that’s-. Sh-shall we go?”

She took his arm and led him towards the road to her house.  When they were out of earshot from his family, she asked again, “So, is there something you wanted to tell me?”

My favorite thing about the chapter was the conversation about baby names, I love the idea that some of the kids are named after Pedro's family as a way to remember him (and that Dolores is named after a poet). I might find somewhere to repurpose that conversation in the future. My second favorite was bookending it with the "Is there something you wanted to tell me?" thing.

[sunlightinjuly]

Let me hold the wound you've been walking with, from city to city, on a leash like a dog. You never look at it directly. You see it in shadows, reflections, shop windows; forever in your periphery, following you home. As I stroke your hair, I try to stroke mine. I comfort the self I see in you. I take your dog and I feed it, pat it; speak to it softly, coax it inside, until it sleeps on the couch and eats out of the palm of my hand. I have never experienced the depths of my compassion, but maybe I can show it to you now. Maybe I can show it to myself.

[mournfulroses]

Margaret Atwood, from True Stories: Poems; "Postcard," originally published in 1981

[sunshinesere]

Emily Henry / Funny Story

[fairydrowning]

"Well, let it pass; April is over, April is over. There are all kinds of love in the world, but never the same love twice."

– F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Short Stories

[derangedrhythms]

[...] we experienced the phenomenon that lovers who are not yet lovers recognise; they are not touching, yet they feel the charge. The space in between is filled with energy. The spark. The dance. The movement.

Jeanette Winterson, Night Side of the River; from ‘No Ghost Ghost Story’

[griefyards]

The Second Sex, Simone de Beauvoir // Brokeback Mountain (2005) // Moon Song, Phoebe Bridgers // The Second Sex, Simone de Beauvoir // A Lover's Discourse, Roland Barthes // A Ghost Story (2017) // The Second Sex, Simone de Beauvoir // Candy (2006) // Letters to Vera, Vladimir Nabokov.

[kaiserouo]

"Huh."

[elucubrare]

Give me your arms, she said. “No,” I told her. I knew that she could use them - I’d felt it a hundred times in the last month. Her little habits taking over mine: the urge to pick a passing leaf and twist it in my fingers then tear it, which I’d never had. A real desire to run, for the delight of it. Please, she said. It was the first time she’d asked and not commanded. “Why?” I want to — she broke off, but I could hear, or feel, or know the rest of it. She wanted to loose an arrow, for the first time in four hundred years. To feel the tension of the bowstring transfer through her - through my - shoulders. There was no greater plan to it, only an almost childlike want. “All right,” I said. I — stepped aside, maybe. Gave up control for a second, certainly, and I felt her step into the space I’d left her. The steppe we rode though changed. I’d seen gray-green grass and low shrubs, flat country with no landmarks, under a low gray sky. Now I saw the irso grass, which was good for weaving, and spiky tarin, which, chewed, would keep you awake, and dozens of other plants, all distinct. I saw too where the one gave into another, and knew that it meant the ground underneath was different. There were marmot holes, and fox dens, and voles running through the grass. The sky was low and cloudy, which meant it would be warm that night, or at least as warm as the steppes ever were. It was beautiful. It was — home.

[foggyfanfic]

Love and Fury Deleted Scenes

Since I'm done with the Love and Fury verse, I'm going to dump some of the deleted scenes on tumblr. You know that writing advice "Never delete anything, just put it aside in case you can use it later"? It's good advice and I made use of it, but now I have a bunch of unused scenes gathering cobwebs in my google docs. I'm proud of 'em so I want back up copies in case something happens to my docs, but none of these are developed enough to be their own story so I'm not going to post them to AO3. So! Tumblr!

This one was the first draft for Bruno admitting his feelings, it was going to be caused Sleepover and was about Pepa playing match maker in a way that was guaranteed to make Bruno miserable. I cut it because the playful mood didn't really match the rest of the third act of a story about rape culture. Warning: It is only half a chapter!

“Aren’t we a bit old for a sleepover?” Bruno griped, even as he helped put out the snacks, “We’re 26.”

“Mm-hm!” Pepa placed a bottle of tequila on the snack table, “And you would think a 26 year old man would be perfectly capable of asking out his crush, and yet, here we are, Sunday afternoon. Your crush is unasked.”

Bruno rolled his eyes and grumbled, but couldn’t exactly deny her allegations. He had indeed neglected to ask out Reina, despite having multiple chances to do so.

“Aren’t we a little bit old to have a sleepover?” Julieta asked, as she entered Pepa’s room with arms full of cushions.

“We’re doing this as a personal favor to Bruno,” Pepa said, wrapping an arm around Bruno’s neck, “right Brunito?”

“Um.”

“How exactly is this a favor for Bruno?” Julieta asked, raising a pointed eyebrow at Bruno’s very apparent misery.

“It’s to help him get up the courage to-.”

“I love sleepovers!” Bruno shouted over Pepa, throwing up a couple of very unconvincing jazz hands, “A-And I never got to have my own sleepover because, you know, I have no friends. Or I didn’t. But now I do. Sooo sleepover… yay?”

Julieta looked from Bruno to Pepa, clearly unconvinced, Pepa grinned back, barely holding back a laugh and gestured at Bruno, “He loves sleepovers.”

“Pepa, are you bullying Bruno?”

“Sí.”

Julieta tapped her foot for a second, “Bruno, what will you give me if I put a stop to this?”

“Oh. Oh! Um, hold on, let me think-.”

“I’ll tell Mamá about that time Agustín saved me from puking on the G��zmans if you let me do it,” Pepa held up a finger. It was a rather embarrassing memory, one she rather wouldn’t share, but it was exactly the sort of thing that would make their Mamá decide once and for all to give Agustín her blessing.

“Oooh, I like that,” Julieta turned back to Bruno, “counter offer?”

“Um, I… I can show Mamá a vision of you and Agustín getting married,” he tried, he figured at this point Julieta probably already knew marrying Agustín was an eventuality, she just needed help convincing their Mamá that Agustín wasn’t going anywhere.

“Hmm, not bad,” Julieta held her chin while she thought about it, “but, that means we’re getting married either way, and Pepa’s offer will make our lives easier in the long run, sooo… lo siento Bruno.”

“Damn!”

“Hah!”

There was a knock at the door, Pepa opened it to reveal their mother who greeted them with a skeptical, “Aren’t you three a bit old for a sleepover?”

“Sí Mamá! We are much, much too old,” Bruno leaned around Pepa, “imagine what’ll happen if people find out we were doing this, they would say… they would say ‘gosh, I had no idea the Madrigals were so childish’. Then they would lose all faith in us and the village would fall into chaos. Chaos! We must put a stop to this.”

Alma raised an eyebrow at him, then turned mildly to Pepa, “Are you doing this to torture your brother?”

“What?! No! Of course not,” Pepa shook her head, laughing the thought off. Alma looked thoroughly unconvinced.

Julieta jumped in with a gentle smile,  “It’s for Reina and Rosalie, they’ve both been so stressed out with that whole Cicero business. They need a night off, a night when they’re surrounded by friends and can sleep peacefully, without any fear.”

Bruno glared at Julieta, who shrugged back, unapologetic. 

“Ah, of course,” Alma nodded, she handed them the extra towels for their guests, “that is very kind of you three. Please, just keep the noise contained in this room, if you will.”

“We will Mamá,” Pepa promised, “good night.”

Their mother turned away and Pepa closed the door most of the way. She left it cracked open just a tiny bit so she could watch their Mamá walk down the hall to her own room. When she disappeared into her bedroom, Pepa waited until the count of 100 then rushed over to her window.

“Psst, Félix, Agustín,” she hissed into the tree line, almost immediately the two men materialized out of the woods, Pepa held up a thumb to them and they quickly disappeared around to the front of the house.

Bruno rolled his eyes and grumbled some more when the two men snuck into the room. They hadn’t asked whether or not Agustín and Félix could join in the festivities, mostly because it was assumed the answer was no. In fact, Mamá had been pretty clear that Bruno was not to sleep in Pepa’s room with the girls, so there was no way she would have signed off on having their boyfriends spend the night.

“This is fun,” Félix chuckled after he had greeted everybody, “haven’t snuck around like this since I was a kid.”

“Well, nostalgia is the whole point,” Pepa said, although Bruno was pretty sure everybody knew the actual point was to mess with him.

Agustín wrapped himself around Julieta and asked, “Are we going to play all the classic games too? It’s been a while since I played truth or dare.”

“If we do play truth or dare, nobody is allowed to dare Agustín to do anything athletic,” Julieta immediately said.

“Juli, we could dare him to take five steps and he might find some way to lose both his thumbs,” Pepa pointed out, then turned to Agustín, “no offense.”

He just shrugged, “You’re not wrong.”

“I just want to let you girls know, that if we’re not painting each other’s nails tonight, then I’m going home, right now,” Félix joked, stabbing the air with a finger.

The floorboards shook beneath them, then somebody knocked on Pepa’s door. Bruno felt his heart leap into his throat, as Pepa walked over to open it. When she pulled it open and invited Reina and Rosalie in, he was struck with the sudden temptation to run and hide.

Reina spotted him and immediately swept over to stand at his side, something that did nothing for his nerves.

“Hola you,” she bumped her shoulder against his, “long time no see.”

They had sat together in Church that day. Actually, Mamá had made a show of inviting Rosalie and Señora Ruiz to sit with their family in the front, and wherever Rosalie went, Reina followed. Padré had spent the entire sermon avoiding looking at their pew, something Reina had clearly noticed and had to visibly restrain herself from commenting on. She had taken Bruno’s hand and had squeezed it to keep herself in her seat.

He wouldn’t be able to tell you what that day’s sermon had been about to save his own life.

Although, he did know exactly when Padré had made eye contact with Rosalie, because in those moments Reina’s grip on his hand had become painful.

“H-Hola,” he greeted, chuckling nervously and rubbing his arm.

She placed her hand on his, the other loosely holding his bicep as she leaned in close to whisper, “So, is this whole thing so Pepa can mess with you? Should I come up with an excuse to get you out of here?”

His shoulders relaxed even while his heart beat harder.

“Sí- well, no. I mean, sí this whole thing is to embarrass me, but no, if we sneak away it’ll only get worse,” Bruno told her, then he darkly added, “Pepa has back up plans.”

Reina pulled back, sucking air in through her teeth, “Oof. Suddenly happy I’m an only child. Well- you know what I mean.”

Bruno glanced over at Pepa and was startled to realize that she and Rosalie were whispering to each other in much the same way Reina and Bruno had just been. Félix, Julieta, and Agustín watched on in amusement.

“Look,” he pointed it out to Reina, “I think Rosalie is in on it.”

“What?” she hissed, then, because Reina had very little shame she cried, “Rosalie! Are you betraying me?!”

“Sí,” Rosalie nodded, then held up a finger to her lips, “now hush, we’re scheming.”

Reina gasped dramatically, putting a hand to her heart, she turned to the peanut gallery and gestured sharply at Rosalie, “Can you believe this?”

“Tragic,” Agustín shook his head mournfully.

“The state of the world,” Julieta agreed.

“I should probably mention that I’m helping them too,” Félix said, shrugging.

“What?!” Bruno stood up straight, head whipping over to Pepa, “You told him?”

“He has eyes, Bruno,” Pepa retorted.

“That’s it, this means war,” Bruno declared, pointing one finger at the heavens.

“War!” Reina enthusiastically agreed, copying his gesture.

“Oh good,” Pepa smirked, “this will be more fun if you two put up a fight.”

“Oh, we’ll put up a fight alright!” Bruno narrowed his eyes at her as he slowly backed up further into the room, pulling Reina with him.

“What’s the plan?” she hissed, when they were far enough away.

“No idea,” he said, “you know any good pranks that won’t get us zapped with lightning?”

“You would know better than me where the zapping threshold is,” Reina pointed out, even as she examined their opponents, calculating.

“You know, you would think so, wouldn’t you,” Bruno chuckled ruefully, then shrugged, “but uh, somehow, I-I still haven’t figured out quite where the line is between, hilarious joke and um grievous insult.”

“Oh,” Reina frowned, “ok, then let’s go back to basics, divide and conquer.”

“Alright,” Bruno nodded along.

“If they suggest truth and dare, I can get Rosalie just as good as she can get me,” Reina bit her lip in thought, “what have you got on Pepa?”

“She has a fear of spiders.”

“I’m pretty sure bringing spiders into this would get us murdered, by more than just Pepa.”

“It’s a win-win.”

“Bruno,” she lightly shoved his shoulder, “stop trying to die or I’m joining their side!”

“Lo siento,” he held up his hands, “how about… how are you at drinking games?”

“Abysmal. I stopped drinking when Rosalie did, as a solidarity thing, and I realized I kind of hate being drunk,” she shrugged.

“Really? I didn’t know that. What about it do you hate?”

“I always get queasy really quick, kind of ruins the fun of being all loose and stuff,” she shook her head, “anyways, drinking games. How are you at that sort of thing?”

“Better than Pepa, she hates the taste, always folds first,” he said, “if we can get her in a competitive mood she’ll play whatever game we suggest, even if she knows she’ll lose.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Reina put her hand out and after a second Bruno realized he was supposed to put his hand on top of it. She counted to three then threw her hand up and Bruno copied her.

“You two are cute,” Pepa called over.

Bruno’s cheeks burned, ay dios, was he playing right into her hands?

“Damn straight,” Reina responded, grinning, “so, what’re we doing first?”

“Before you four get started,” Julieta cut in, holding up her hands, “can we please just sit for a little while and catch up? Maybe eat some of the dessert I made?”

“Oh, of course,” Rosalie agreed, before the other three combatants could throw themselves into the fight, “I have missed your cooking.”

“Thank you, you’re too kind,” Julieta smiled warmly at her, she led the way to the couches and they spent some time eating and talking about their week.

With seven of them trying to fit on two couches, it was a cramped affair, with Julieta sitting on Agustin’s lap, and Pepa eyeing Félix’s speculatively. Bruno was crammed between Reina and Rosalie, who spent an hour subtly crowding him into Reina’s space. He didn’t even notice she was doing it until Reina curled her legs up and they rested on his thigh.

He glanced at her to see if she noticed the contact, then felt silly, of course she noticed they were touching, it’d be hard to miss.

She didn’t seem to care however, and when Rosalie somehow managed to gain another inch, Reina had no problem wrapping an arm around him so he could lean on her.

Bruno gulped. Was there some way to alert her to their enemies’ objective without revealing his own feelings?

Rosalie stretched, and Bruno instinctively ducked closer to Reina to avoid her arms. When he looked straight across at Pepa she was hiding her smirk behind a cookie Julieta had made.

He glared at her.

A/N: Sorry about the abrupt end. I wrote and cut this before making Leandra her own OC (back when the entire story would have finished in twenty chapters), so she was still only reader insert Reina, and also a little more oblivious than she ended up being. She doesn't actually know what the goal of the game is, she's just happy to play on Bruno's team. It always hurts to cut scenes that are centered on the triplets acting like actual siblings, they are some of my favorite ones to reread, so this one is a major part of why I want to share these and have extra copies.

[sunlightinjuly]

Glorious rooms filled with warm, honey-coloured light. That's where I witnessed his magic; the genius of his sleight of hand. He dazzled in the light and I moved in the shadows, always close behind, waiting for instruction like a domesticated pet. I made the mistake of thinking that his light could hold me too.

[mournfulroses]

Margaret Atwood, from True Stories: Poems; "Use," originally published in 1981

[scavengerr]

@sonadowcentral, tbh I think Fragmented!Sonic would actually say these quotes from Sonic Prime :3

[project-sekai-facts]

Saki's Prayers Soaring Into the Sky 4* card and card story contains multiple references to her Abyss of Memories 4* card. Firstly, the untrained of both cards feature paper cranes. In Japan, folding 1000 paper cranes is a way for people to wish for a seriously ill person to get better, which is why they can be seen on Saki's untrained Abyss of Memories card set when she was in hospital. Folding 1000 paper cranes can also be used for any wish though, which is the purpose they serve in Saki's untrained Prayers Soaring Into the Sky card, where she wished for her songs and feelings to be able to reach Leo/need's fans.

The most obvious link between both trained cards is the bathtub. In the Abyss of Memories card, the overflowing water symbolises her (then) seemingly unending suffering, and the bath and bathroom are filled with things she wasn't able to use when she was in hospital. In her Prayers Soaring Into the Sky card, the bath is still overflowing, but is now filled with flowers. Some of these flowers include pink roses, yellow roses (symbolising friendship), and sunflowers (symbolising longevity), putting a much more positive spin on the overflowing water imagery. All 3 flowers can symbolise happiness as well.

Some other things from Saki's Abyss of Memories trained card can be spotted in her Fragment SEKAI. These include her suitcase, sunhat, and some of the paper cranes. Saki was unable to go on holiday when she was younger, hence why her unused holiday items were included in the older card. Her SEKAI being set at a holiday resort more than likely links to this idea.

[nights-at-crystarium]

Fragments Friday tomorrow!