#first she tricks him into climbing on top of a church | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pengychan · 3 years

Text

[Coco] Nuestra Iglesia, Pt 22

Title: Nuestra Iglesia Summary: Fake Priest AU. In the midst of the Mexican Revolution, Santa Cecilia is still a relatively safe place; all a young orphan named Miguel has to worry about is how to get novices Héctor and Imelda to switch their religious vows for wedding vows before it’s too late. He’s not having much success until he finds an unlikely ally in their new parish priest, who just arrived from out of town. Fine, so Padre Ernesto is a really odd priest. He’s probably not even a real priest, and the army-issued pistol he carries is more than slightly worrying. But he agrees that Héctor and Imelda would be wasted on religious life, and Miguel will take all the help he can get. It’s either the best idea he’s ever had, or the worst. Characters: Miguel Rivera, Ernesto de la Cruz, Héctor Rivera, Imelda Rivera, Chicharrón, Óscar and Felipe Rivera, OCs. Imector. Rating: T

[All chapters up are tagged as ‘fake priest au’ on my blog.]

A/N: Well, both the events in this chapter and the update were a long time coming. I promise you won't have to wait nearly as much for the next update. I am not sure that is a good thing.

Art is by @lunaescribe and @swanpit

***

Later on, if he’d been in a joking mood - and he most definitely wouldn’t be - Ernesto may have joked that while many were saved by the bell, he was quite literally saved by the bull. Namely, by an especially unimpressive bull who seemed to be unsure as to what to do around a cow, no matter how absolutely eager said cow was to answer nature’s call.

“González wants us to go all the way to his farm and bless a bull, am I understanding this correctly?”

Juan spoke with about as much contempt as he was able to fit into each word, which was a fair lot of contempt. As Ernesto coughed into his hand to hide a laugh, Sofía shrugged.

“Don’t shoot the messenger, Padre. I am simply relaying the message González sent.”

The gringo scoffed, reaching up to rub his forehead. “Does he believe the church to be a joke, that he can call upon us to give a blessing to a bull who believes itself an ox?”

Ernesto chuckled. “Well, to be fair - don’t look at me like that, hear me out! A bull that cannot mount cows is a problem to anyone who makes a living out of their cattle. And the poor hombre spent a lot of his savings on that bull, so if it cannot do its job, that’s a loss he may not recover from anytime soon.”

His words seemed to make Juan marginally less offended, but the frown on his face did not entirely fade. “It still seems rather brazen, asking the church to get involved in such-- matters, Ern-- Father Ernest.”

“Desperate men will ask for any help they can get. Things have not been going all that well for anyone lately. And he does provide milk for the children in our care on Sundays,” Ernesto added, and mentally patted himself on the back when Juan’s scowl softened another fraction.

“... Fair enough. He has shown charity, at least. I cannot entirely fault him for being ignorant of what is and is not beneath the notice of God,” he declared. Behind him, Sofía pointed at her mouth and pretended to gag. Ernesto bit the inside of his cheek to remain serious, but any inclination to smile faded when Juan spoke again. “Well then, I suppose you may go and give this bull your blessing.”

Wait, what?

“Wait, what? Me?” he protested. That was not a turn of events he had expected: the gringo knew any blessing he may give was entirely worthless, and-- ah, the pendejo. That was probably the point, giving González some peace of mind without anyone really giving God’s blessing to an impotent bull.

Juan met his gaze with a raised brow, and for a moment Ernesto could have sworn he’d seen the barest hint of an amused glint in his eye. It almost distracted him from the broad grin on Sofía’s face as she watched the scene. Some friend she was.

The gringo nodded, folding his hands. “You spoke of this man’s plight with such fervor, it seems fair I let you go help him - if anything for his peace of mind.”

Ernesto groaned. To say the González farm was out of the way was an understatement: it was quite a way beyond the first hill south of Santa Cecilia. Truth be told, they tended to consider it part of Santa Cecilia only because it was no closer to any other village, and the family attended Mass and the market each week without fail.

“But it’s almost an hour each way!”

“Two hours, most likely,” the gringo replied with a serene smile. Now the amused glint was… a lot more obvious. Oh, that bastard--! “Doctor Sanchéz borrowed the horse to send his assistant to buy some medical supplies in San Luz. You may have the donkey, though. Don’t push the poor beast, you know it’s elderly. If you get going now, you should make it back by sundown,” he added, making Ernesto rather wish he could grab the closest chair and slap him with it.

“But I-- I mean, surely it is not that urgent--” he tried to backpedal. He really was not looking forward to several hours riding a donkey under the merciless summer sun. Maybe on another day he could get a horse, or ride with the González family’s cart next time they--

“You should definitely be the one to go, Padre Ernesto. You have such a glowing track record with fertility blessings,” Sofía quipped, causing Ernesto to nearly choke on his spit and any words he’d been about to utter to die in his throat.

Entirely unaware of the meaning behind Sofía’s words - if rather taken aback to see one of the sisters taking his side over Ernesto’s in a discussion - Juan nodded. “See, Sister Sophie agrees,” he said, with a decisive nod that made it clear the matter was sealed.

Sofía grinned. Ernesto forced a smile. Oh, he thought, I am going to kill her.

“... Of course. I will be happy to,” he spoke through gritted teeth. Sofía took that as her cue to disappear out of the door with one last grin in his general direction. As the door closed, he allowed himself to groan, no longer having to keep up the pretense of keeping up the pretense in front of Sofía. “Bastardo,” he muttered.

Juan clicked his tongue, wagging a finger at him. “Language,” he chided. “If it is of any comfort, this also means you will be spared Latin for the day.”

“Does this mean you’ll make me study through the night once I’m back?” Ernesto grumbled, and the gringo gave a startlingly sincere laugh. Those had always been rare to come by, even more so after he learned the truth about him. Ernesto’s annoyance faded a little, and just a little.

“Hah! I thought about it, to be entirely sincere, but no.” He stood, giving his arm a light pat. “I will not put you through it tonight, either. We’ll both get to sleep.”

Somehow, he was both absolutely right and disastrously wrong at the same time.

***

Just as a very disgruntled Ernesto de la Cruz disappeared down the first hill south of the village on the back of an elderly donkey, Commander Santiago Hernández rode up the first hill north of the village at the head of a column of sweaty, angry men.

Fewer men than he’d have liked, truth be told. They had succeeded in pushing through the territories under the control of Zapatistas, but resistance had been fierce and their advance hadn’t been without sacrifices. The oppressive heat and the talk going around - they were losing the war, Huerta was going to fall any day now - did nothing to improve morale.

But they had made through the worst, the scum who’d planned to ambush them had been tricked into waiting for them somewhere else entirely, and they had almost reached Santa Cecilia - where they would take supplies and some fresh recruits to replace their fallen comrades. Those things were occasionally offered, far more likely taken, but it did not matter. The end result was the same, and he let his men deal with it.

What he usually kept himself occupied with was taking a very good look at every man he could find and asking everyone if a-- deserter traitor murderer -- man called Ernesto de la Cruz had sought refuge among them. He’d been lucky until then, evading detection, but his luck wouldn’t last forever, Santiago was certain of it. He didn’t allow himself to think he may be forever beyond his reach.

If only I had a photograph of that traitor, Santiago thought, not for the first time, but he chased away the thought. He did not have one; his name and a description was all that he had to work with, and it would have to do.

Santiago frowned, and spurred his horse the last few yards of the way to the top of the hill. He stopped his horse, allowing himself to breathe in the faint breeze caressing his face.

Below him, in the merciless heat of a summer afternoon, lay Santa Cecilia.

***

If only he hadn’t been asleep, Miguel would think later, they would have never caught him.

Granted, a tree branch is not a great place to take a nap. He wasn’t supposed to be asleep, they were playing hide and seek and he was really determined to win that round, so he’d climbed up a large tree at the base of a hill.

It was a really good hiding place, because the branches were wide enough for him to sit comfortably, back against the trunk, while the leaves beneath him hid him from sight. They hid him so well that he got bored of waiting to be found or for Felipe to give up, and he eventually dozed off.

At least until he was startled awake by shouts and rancorous laughter, and the steady clap of more horse hooves than he’d ever heard at once. Somehow, he had enough presence of mind to understand who it had to be - Federales! - but not nearly enough to remember he just so happened to be on top of a tree branch when he tried to stand up to run back and warn everyone.

“Aaaagh!” Miguel fell with a cry, hit a branch on his way down, and somehow managed to grab onto another before he had a very unpleasant meeting with the ground below. There were yells somewhere below him, and he knew he had been spotted.

“Oye!”

“What the-- what are you doing up there, muchacho?”

“Odd bird, that!”

“Oh, bet I can get him down with one shot…”

“What?”

“Hey now, it’s just a kid--”

“A lookout, more like, and there may be more.”

“Put that pistol down, Mendoza, or God be my witness you’ll hang from that branch!”

A voice rose over all the others, and the entire world seemed to go quiet. Miguel looked down, still reeling. A dozen men on horses were a short distance away from the tree, including a squat man quickly lowering a pistol, and more were coming down the hill. The men’s eyes were not on Miguel, however: they were looking at a tall, slender man with a closely trimmed mustache as he spurred his horse to walk beneath the branch Miguel was hanging from. Not a huge drop, but more than he’d like to risk.

“That doesn’t seem comfortable, niño,” he said, and it was only then that Miguel realized the thundering order not to shoot had come from him.

I was almost shot. They almost shot me, Miguel thought. His blood ran cold, and he suddenly understood why Ernesto had been so scared. He’d always known, of course, but seeing them up close - finding how quickly a soldier could joke about shooting a child off a branch like ripe fruit - suddenly made it so real.

It could get me killed, Miguel, Ernesto had said. You must never say it aloud again.

“I… I was…”

“Keeping an eye out for us to come, all the way out here?” the man, clearly someone in command, asked. His voice was cold and Miguel swallowed, still holding onto the branch for dear life. If he so much reached up from atop his horse, he could pull him down by the legs.

“N-no, señor,” he managed, his voice so small. “I... we were playing hide and seek. I hid.”

The man’s cold gaze remained fixed on him for a moment more, then it seemed to soften. “Well, if you hadn’t fallen, I wouldn’t have known you were even there,” he said, and smiled.

It was not an insincere smile, Miguel would think later, but there was something so fundamentally broken about it that he felt all the sweat on his skin had suddenly turned into frost. But at least, he thought, he’d stopped one of his men from shooting him dead. Was it because he balked at the idea of murdering a boy in cold blood? Was it because he thought there may be an ambush and a shot may alert anyone laying in wait of their presence? Miguel would never know, and at the moment he had no time to think about it. The man moved his horse closer, and held out his arm.

“Come then, your arms look ready to give out,” he said. “We’ll take you back to your village.”

No, no, no. Keep away from there. Keep away from Santa Cecilia.

Miguel swallowed again, his own heartbeat thudding in his ears. “I…” he began, but he could think of nothing to say, and his arms finally did give out. The man caught him, his grip surprisingly strong for someone so slender, and pulled him to sit astride his horse as well. Miguel held onto the mane with shaky hands, looking down. He found himself thinking of the day he and Ernesto had met, when he’d saved him from the stream and let him ride on his horse - except that then he’d been elated, and now he was just terrified.

Please God, make them go away. Make them go away without hurting anyone.

“... Gracias,” he murmured, mostly to try and not anger him, and the man let out a noise that seemed almost a chuckle as he spurred the horse into moving again. He shouted an order for his men to get moving again, entirely ignored Miguel’s wince, and spoke again.

“And what is your name, niño?”

“Miguel,” he mumbled. His throat felt like sandpaper, but the soldier kept talking like he hadn't noticed, or did not care, that the hands clenching the horse’s mane were shaking.

“Just Miguel?”

“Sí.”

“Very well, Just Miguel. I’m Commander Santiago Hernández.” His tone was light, but the grip on the reins was tight, the arms at either side of Miguel unyielding. “So, hide and seek? With friends?”

“S-Sí.”

“A good hiding place. I was never much good at hiding when I was your age. Alberto always found me. Now I am the one doing the searching for him.”

Miguel blinked, confusion overriding the fear for a moment. He craned his neck to look back. “Searching?” he repeated. The man’s gaze was like steel, but as he looked down it softened… only a moment. Then the coldness was back, and something in the pit of Miguel’s stomach twisted. He looked away again.

“For traitors. For one in particular, but any traitor will do.” A brief pause. “You seem like a smart boy,” he added, but Miguel didn’t feel smart at the moment. He only felt so stupid for just falling in the Federales’ hands as he had and so very, very scared.

“I-- try to be.”

“You know many people in the village?”

Nearly everyone, but he knew better than to say it. Maybe he had some smarts left, after all. “A few. Not all that many, the Sisters keep us in the church,” he added, hoping it would make a good excuse. To his relief, Commander Hernández hummed in understanding.

“Ah, nuns. I know what you mean. Does the name Ernesto de la Cruz ring any bells to you?”

Oh. Oh, no. Oh God, no.

It could get me killed, Miguel. You must never say it aloud again.

Miguel’s eyes stung with tears, but he was able to keep his voice from shaking too much as he spoke. “No, señor. I don’t think it does.”

“Are you certain? He is a deserter, and a dangerous man. A murderer. It is best for everyone that he is found and taken care of, don’t you agree? If he is here, your village is in danger.”

We are in danger now. If he finds him, he’ll kill him. If he knows we hid him, he’ll kill us all.

“Then I hope you find him,” Miguel managed, fighting back more tears while he watched the first houses of Santa Cecilia drawing closer as the column of men entered the main road in.

***

“... I still can’t believe we each thought the other was the one leaving behind the instructions.”

“Heh. And to think I knew your handwriting is better than… that.”

“Likewise. But I imagined you may have tried to disguise yours.” Imelda frowned a little, emptying the donation box into the basket - not a lot, few had much to give those days, but it would do and keep the poor fed - before returning it to its place. “It still irks me that we don’t know who it was.”

Héctor chuckled. “Maybe it was Cheech all along,” he said, knowing full well that despite being somehow able to read music sheets, the old gravedigger was damn near illiterate. Which was exactly the point Imelda made next.

“Chicharrón doesn’t know how to write anything but his name, Juanita’s, and a few choice words he had the bad taste of teaching my brothers,” she muttered, then she paused, and raised an eyebrow. “... What is it?”

“Uuuuh,” Héctor managed, mind entirely blank of anything he had been thinking. Their church was small and not much to write home about, but it did have one stained glass window thanks to a glassworker who had died almost twenty years prior and who had made it to thank God for saving the life of his son after a bad accident with an angry pig.

A claim doctor Sanchéz had hotly debated, that, considering that it had been him and not Jesus Christ to painstakingly sew torn flesh back together and throw iodine into any open wound, but his protests had been mostly ignored and their humble church now had a beautiful stained glass window, letting in soft light that made Imelda look like an angel straight out of-- well, no. Angels in the Bible were the things nightmares are made of, so not that.

But God, she really was the most lovely being in all creation.

A moment of silence, and then the most lovely being in all creation tilted her head on one side. “... Are you well? You look--”

“Beautiful,” Héctor blurted out, and Imelda let out a chuckle, a smile curling her lips.

“Well, I’ll admit you are a sight for sore eyes…”

Wait, what? Héctor shook his head, taken aback. “Wha-- no, not me. I mean, you. You-- beautiful,” he stammered.

The songwriter, señores y señoras.

As his face made a valiant attempt at reaching the same temperature as the sun, Imelda laughed. “I know what you meant,” she said, and the smile on her face widened just a little. She reached to take his hand, and Héctor let her pull him closer as though in a dream. “I think I can get used to hearing you say that. Once this is all over.”

Ah-- ah, of course. Yes. Once this was all over, and Hurta and his Federales were gone, he would ask her to marry him, and she would say yes, and they would leave the Church - only to return for their wedding to be officiated, and… and…

The thought of seeing Imelda in her best Sunday dress standing beneath that same window, as his bride, made Héctor’s heart skip a beat. Imelda let go of his hand, and he immediately reached to cup her face.

You may now kiss the bride.

“I’ll tell you every day,” he promised. Oh they were so close, and alone in the empty chapel. Or rather under the eyes of God, but Héctor felt no shame over it. God would understand, and if He didn’t-- well, it didn’t matter. “Starting now.”

The coy expression on Imelda’s face had faded a little, her lips parting. She placed her hand on his arm, but didn’t try to push him away. Héctor dared lean in, she tilted her face up, and her eyes fluttered close, and--

“WHAT IN GOD’S NAME!”

“Gah!”

Héctor and Imelda came apart with a yelp, and turned towards the source of the voice. Said source was marching up towards them as though filled with the wrath of God, face somehow even paler than usual and eyes ablaze. “Brother Héctor! What is the meaning of this?”

Oh God. Face quickly turning a deep shade of purple, Héctor cleared his throat. By his side Imelda looked down in a way that may have looked demure, if not for the way the corners of her mouth curled upwards despite everything. It made Héctor struggle to keep himself from laughing.

“Padre Ju-- I mean, Father John!” he exclaimed with a wide smile, hands clasped together. “I can explain.”

“Oh?” The gringo came to a stop in front of him with a huff, arms crossed full of judgment for someone who had been doing… the kind of thing Ernesto claimed they had been doing. “Then please, do explain yourselves!”

“Well…”

“Oh, I’m curious to hear this one,” another voice rang out, insufferably smug and awfully familiar. Héctor looked past the gringo to see Gustavo leaning on one of the front pews, a grin on his face. Had it been him to tell Padre Juan that he and Imelda were alone in the chapel? Of course it had been him, he only needed a look at his face to know it. That cabrón--!

Héctor opened his mouth to tell Gustavo exactly what he thought of him, but before he could spew out a series of expletives that would have probably resulted in his excommunication from the Roman Catholic Church, the chapel’s door was thrown open and someone ran in screaming. Felipe.

“Federales!” he cried out, skidding to a halt on the polished floor. He was panting, hair sticking out in all directions and glasses askew, the sling holding up his broken arm having left an angry red mark on the side of his neck. “The Federales are here!”

Héctor’s blood ran cold and, for a moment, no one moved or spoke. All four adults stared at the panting boy, stunned incredulity on each of their faces.

Just when it was beginning to look like Huerta is done for. Just when we thought we may have escaped them entirely.

“Impossible!” Gustavo almost cried out, reaching to grab the boy by the shoulder. “They can’t be here! They were going to go through San Luz!”

How would you know?, Héctor thought, but he didn’t get to voice the question. The next moment Imelda was no longer by his side: she pushed past a still silent Father John to tear her brother from Gustavo’s grasp, and look at him in the eye.

“Where is Óscar?” she asked, fear plain in her voice. Her horror seemed to grow when Felipe swallowed and shook his head.

“I-- I don’t know. They’re at the plaza, rounding up people--”

“What do you mean, you don’t know! You’re always together!” Imelda crouched before him, even though he was already taller than her. She looked like she was begging him for a different answer. “Do you know where he may be? He needs to go home. He needs to hide.”

“No, I-- we were playing hide and seek, and Miguel--” Felipe let out a shaky breath and looked over at Héctor, eyes huge behind his glasses. “Héctor, their leader has Miguel.”

No. No, no, no, no, no. Not Miguel. Please.

The world around Héctor seemed to fade for a moment, and he seriously thought he may be about to faint; his ears were buzzing and his tongue felt too large. Children were not spared in that war, the Federles would take anyone who could hold a gun and make them fight.

I’ll fight. I’ll go. Just please, not Miguel.

“Very well then.” Father John’s voice rang out, impossibly calm, the full weight of his authority behind it. They all turned to look back at him as though puppets pulled by the same string. His hands were clasped tightly together, his mouth pulled in a thin line; a grim resolve was etched on his every feature. “It seems I need to speak to their leader, then. Philip, you go home. I will handle this.”

Gustavo groaned, rubbing his face. “With all due respect, Padre,” he said, everything in his tone making it clear he didn’t think the respect he was due was all that much, “it may be best you don’t try to confront them.”

“How come?”

“They have a bone to pick with Americans after Veracruz. More than everyone else, I mean.”

The resolve on the gringo’s face did not waver. “Surely, the cloth I wear will mean something to them.”

“Well… I suppose, at least for some, but they don’t love the Church all that much…”

“Then it will have to do.” Father John turned to Héctor and Imelda, who was still kneeling before her brother. “... Do ensure the children here are safe. Your brother may already be safe, if he saw them coming. Philip, you go home. I will do all I can to… smooth things over.”

You were never able to smooth things over with any Mexican ever, Héctor thought, but didn’t get to say as much aloud. The gringo turned and marched out of the church, immediately followed by Gustavo, who was probably thinking someone should make sure he didn’t mess it up too badly. Too bad he was probably the second worst pick for the job. Or the third, if they counted in Cheech. As they walked off, Imelda looked back at her brother.

“... Keep to the back roads, and go straight home. Maybe Óscar is already there. Go out back, through the sacristy - quick!”

Felipe disappeared at the back, and Imelda turned to look at Héctor. She was pale as ash, but her jaw was set; all the terror that had filled her moments earlier had been pushed back. “... I’ll tell Sofía to try and hide the supplies in the basement as well as she can. I’ll go gather all the boys and bring them back to the orphanage. You… you get Miguel away from them.”

“I…” A shaky breath, and Héctor nodded. “Do you think… what if they’re looking for Ernesto?”

“Then thank God he’s all the way out there to bless a bull. We’ll all tell the truth - none of us knows anyone called Ernesto de la Cruz.”

“If someone mentions a Padre Ernesto…”

“It’s a common enough name, and no one would think a deserter and our parish priest are the same person. His plan may have really been stupid enough to work.” She squeezed his arm. “Now think of nothing but Miguel. I’ll see you both later.” A pause. “I love you.”

Héctor swallowed, and leaned for a quick brush of the lips before he tore himself away from her and ran down the church and outside, down the steps, heart hammering in his throat and only one thought in mind: find Miguel, and keep him safe.

Whatever it takes.

***

“No one move, and no one will be harmed.”

Santiago’s voice rose over the plaza, met with almost complete silence from the people of Santa Cecilia - or at least those among them they had caught outside, at what looked like their weekly market - and seemingly went unheard by his men, who were busy taking as much as they could from the stands full of food and produce. Santiago did not try to stop them; they were fighting for Mexico, after all, and taking supplies was well within their rights.

If anyone was unhappy with that, they were smart enough not to voice it.

“I am looking for a deserter,” Santiago spoke again, circling the small crowd, still atop his horse. The boy, Miguel, sat frozen before him. Part of him, the man he had been before the war, felt sorry for the situation he was in, but the much colder man he had become, the one who had survived this far, knew it was a matter of practicality.

Having one of their kids on the horse with him made it… less likely for anyone to think of doing anything rash, such as pointing a gun in his general direction; it was a lesson he had learned after a bullet shot from a window had grazed at his right temple, leaving behind a rather unsightly scar.

Sorry, muchacho. I cannot afford to die. Not until Alberto is avenged.

“His name is Ernesto de la Cruz,” Santiago spoke the name loud and clear, so that all in the plaza could hear. “A large man, doesn’t go unnoticed. Black hair, brown eyes,” he added, painfully aware of how vague that was. “He had a beard, but he may have shaved it off. He is a murderer who did not hesitate to shoot a man in the back, and he’s dangerous. He needs to be put down as the rabid dog he is. If any of you is harboring him, you are not only committing treason - you are putting yourselves and your village at risk. So I ask you all--”

A sudden cry cut him off, followed by a laugh and a man’s furious voice. “Hey! Get your hands off-- agh!”

“Javier! No!”

Santiago turned to the source of the disturbance, as did the rest of the nervous crowd. A glance was enough to tell what had happened: one of his soldiers was still brandishing his rifle like a club, standing above a young man bleeding from the mouth while a girl with a torn blouse knelt over him, crying. He sighed. “... Mendoza. What did I tell you all about what you are and are not allowed to take from the towns we pass through?”

A grin. “Not my fault, Commander. This one was giving me the eyes. You know what I mean, no?”

Santiago gave him a frosty smile. “I understand. It has been a long march, hasn’t it? I believe you have dropped some cartridges.”

“Huh?” Mendoza looked down, searching for cartridges on the dusty ground. Santiago pulled out his pistol. “Cover your ears, muchacho. And close your eyes,” he told Miguel, and did not wait to see if he’d obeyed: he just lifted his pistol, aimed, and pulled the trigger.

There were a few cries, mostly covered by the loud bang, but Mendoza made no noise: he was thrown to the ground and jerked just once before he lay still. As those closer to the body tried to shift away without making themselves targets, Santiago put the pistol back and turned his gaze around, to his other men, who had stilled and were staring back in silence.

“I trust you will need no more reminders to keep your hands to yourselves,” he said. Miguel was shaking on the saddle, hands on his ears. Santiago gave his head a reassuring pat before turning his horse to the side, so that the boy didn’t have the body in his line of sight. “Now - do any of you have any knowledge of the whereabouts of Ernesto de la Cruz?”

As the soldiers around them resumed taking all the supplies they could take, he stared at the face of every villager. They all avoided his gaze, and they all shook their heads. Santiago scowled, anger beginning to stir in his chest. So he wasn’t there, either? Had he once again failed to find him? Where had that bastardo gone?

“We need men, and any men we need we will take!” he screamed, circling them once again, and gesturing for some of his men to leave the plaza and search the houses around them for anyone trying to hide. Young children held onto their mothers’ gown, elderly people huddled together, women held onto the arm of grown men, and somehow that just infuriated him more. They looked at him like he was a monster, but it was all wrong. He was hunting for a monster.

He was doing his duty, fighting for Mexico, risking his life - seen his friends die - and he’d even just protected one of theirs from his own man. Why did they look at him like that? What right did they have? How dare they? “If he is here, hand him over and none of yours will be taken! If you’re hiding him, you will all regret it!”

“Oh, quit yelling, will you!” a voice suddenly snapped. “There is no one by that name here. Now let the kid go.”

Santiago turned his horse, and found himself glaring down at a short, squat old man with a peg leg and a scowl on his face. “Cheech--” Miguel began, his voice shaking, but the man silenced him with a wave of his hand.

“Grownups are talking,” he muttered, and looked back at Santiago. “Listen, we got no deserter here. No one moved in recently, and there are three Ernestos in all of Santa Cecilia. One is old enough to have been at Montezuma’s court, the other is a cobbler wider than he’s tall, and the third is a priest. There is no one called de la Cruz. If the man you’re looking for was here, we’d hand him over in a heartbeat to save our own. I know I would.”

That was true, and Santiago knew it; it was the reason behind his offer, after all. He had grown up in a village much like that one, and he knew how close-knit the community was. The choice between the safety of a newcomer and that of their own people was no choice at all. Still-- ah, it was infuriating. He kept slipping through the net, people looked at him like he was the monster, and it was all wrong. He had left home with Alberto trying to do the right thing. They had wanted to be heroes. Now Beto was dead, Nando was dead, and he… he...

If you think I’m the monster, then I intend to deserve it.

“... Very well,” Santiago sneered, and dropped a heavy hand on Miguel’s shoulder, causing him to wince. “We need thirty able men. Twenty-nine, as it seems I already have a volunteer. Who else will join us and do their duty as Mexicans?”

The old man’s wrinkly face twisted in fury. “Miguel didn’t volunteer for shit!”

“Oh, but he did. Here he is, no? Boys younger than him have fought for the glory of Mexico. I’ll teach him all he needs to know.”

If looks could kill, Santiago would have probably dropped dead off his horse. He found he did not care - even if in the back of his mind he knew the boy was too young to make a decent soldier, even though part of him balked at the thought of forcing him into the front line. Maybe he would make himself useful as a messenger, something not as dangerous as fighting. Santiago would mull on that later; right now, he had to make a point - what the army needed, the army would take.

Not that the old bastard seemed to care for the point he was trying to make. “He won’t even be able to lift a gun. I know how to shoot. I’ll take his place.”

There were murmurs in the crowd, but Santiago laughed. “You? You’re missing a leg and look like you’re one step away from the grave. I said I need able men--”

“Get off that horse, and I’ll show you just how able--!”

“Commander! A word, if you please!”

A voice called out before Santiago could seriously consider pulling out his pistol and blowing off the idiot’s bald head. It wasn’t just any voice: this one had a strong, distinctive accent. Slowly, he turned back to face the man who had spoken and, for a moment, he thought he must be dreaming.

Before him, clad in black priestly robes, stood a gringo.

***

“Well well, what have we got here?”

Sofía froze, the box full of cartridges still in her arms. She slowly turned to see a soldier of the Federal army at the door, rifle in hand, looking around the cellar.

How in the world had he found his way there? Were there more? Had Imelda managed to get the children to safety on time? Feeling as though her stomach had turned into a block of ice and mentally cursing - she had almost managed to move everything! - Sofía managed to smile. “Good afternoon. I am afraid you may be in the wrong place. This is the parish’s--”

“I am here to requisition supplies,” the man cut her off. “What is in there? Food?”

Well, that was it. She needed to come up with something quickly, because if the man so much caught a glance of what was really in those boxes, she and probably the entirety of the parish would end up before the firing squad before the sun had time to set.

I can’t believe I saved Ernesto’s life by having him sent off to heal a bull’s masculinity.

"These donations are for the house of God to help the poor, I am afraid. I cannot let you take them,” she said in her best apologetic tone. “I am certain you understand, our mission--”

"Move aside."

Ah, so that was how it had to be. "... No."

"It is for the glory of Mexico."

"What of the glory of Heaven?"

"You want to go meet that glory, sister?" The soldier snapped, and raised his rifle so that Sofía could stare right into its barrel. It looked impossibly large, impossibly black. If those men held no respect for the Church, there truly was no defense left. "What about now?"

"... It seems I misspoke."

"Of course you did."

"What I meant to say is, absolutely not. Have you no shame?"

The man glared daggers at her, and Sofía could only hold her breath, praying that he did have at least some reservations over shooting a nun after all. He hesitated, so maybe her gamble had paid off. Maybe she could still find a way--

“Ah, here you are! I thought I had seen one of the heroes of Mexico coming in here!”

Gustavo’s voice caused Sofía to blink and the soldier to turn, rifle up. On the doorway, Gustavo held up his hands with a smile. “No need to shoot, I am here to offer help,” he said, as though having a rifle pointed at his face was not bothering him at all. “As the sister correctly said, these are the supplies for the church - but we do have some food and medical supplies aside I am sure you could use.”

“Hhm. Do you now?”

“Of course. I am the sexton here, and I have been keeping some supplies aside just in case you happened to come through our humble village,” he added. The soldier slowly lowered his rifle, and Sofía blinked. She knew Gustavo was a cabrón, but a supporter of the Federal Army of all things? God, had he been working for them all along? How much did he know--

“Now, sister Sofía, we’ll leave you to finish your good work,” Gustavo added, taking a step towards her and taking her hands. “You were always such a tireless servant of the Church, may God bless you.”

Sofía opened her mouth to ask if he’d hit his head, but promptly shut it when she felt something being pushed against her palm - a folded piece of paper. She looked up and shared a long, serious look with Gustavo before he let go of her hands and led the soldier outside, all smiles and questions about his bravery in battle.

Only once she was alone again, heart hammering in her throat, did Sofía unfold the piece of paper to read the message hastily scribbled on it, in the same handwriting she had seen several times. It looked identical to the one in the instructions Imelda had been receiving for months, coordinating their help to the revolutionaries and their cause.

Once they have left, ring the bell to a death toll and don’t stop. Help will come. Tell them to follow the trail. They’ll know.

***

Truth be told, Father John Johnson knew he had very few chances of succeeding.

Gustavo was right: Americans were particularly hated since their attack on Veracruz, and there was little love between Huerta loyalists and the Catholic Church. However, most if not all those men had been raised to go to Mass, and respect God’s servants; the presence of a priest still inspired at least some measure of deference, if the way the soldiers moved aside to let him pass was anything to go by.

And within moments it was obvious, just from the furious glare he received, that the cloth he wore was the only reason why their commander hadn’t shot him on sight.

“What is a gringo doing here?” the man scoffed, and moved the horse to tower over John. Gripping the horse’s mane, Miguel looked down at him with wide, terrified eyes; John gave him what he hoped was a reassuring smile and looked back up at the commander.

“I serve at this village’s parish,” he said, his voice quiet. “Most call me Padre Juan. I am here to see if there is anything I may do to assist you, and protect my flock at the same time. Certainly an arrangement can be made.” Anything, he thought, anything to save my flock.

The commander scowled. “Protecting them is what we have been doing all along,” he snapped. Around them soldiers were dragging in more men and boys they must have torn out of their homes, forcing them in the plaza, separating all men from the women, the elderly, and children too young to hold a rifle. A few people cried out, but most were silent and still under the threat of firearms. “It is time they do their part for their country. This war may have been over already if not for your kind, sticking your nose in places where it doesn’t belong!”

John drew a long breath. “I do understand. The attack against Veracruz was unfortunate--”

“THE ATTACK AGAINST VERACRUZ WAS SLAUGHTER!” the man screamed suddenly, causing John to wince - but he did not turn, did not flee. He couldn’t, no more than the shepherd can run from the flock and leave it at the mercy of wolves. There was something in his voice that went beyond anger, raw and full of pain.

“... It was. I pray for all the lives lost that day, that God may take them in his glory,” he said, bowing his head. “Anything I may do would be a drop in the ocean, but if there is anything you require of me-- please, do tell me.”

The man paused, seemingly taken aback by the humble response. The scowl remained etched on his face, but the fury in his eyes burned a little less brightly. After a brief silence, during which one could hear a pin drop across the plaza, he spoke again.

“... You said you serve this parish. You must have heard confessions. Know everything about everyone.”

“I do, sir.”

“Do you have any knowledge of a man called Ernesto de la Cruz hiding nearby?”

Ernesto.

A cold, cold hand grasped John’s hand, and squeezed. He wanted to scream, to cry, to curse at the choice put before him - one he had hoped he would never have to make. He was relieved he had sent him away at a distant farm; he was horrified he may now have to be the one to give him away. Would that man be sated, if he got his hands on him? Would he leave the rest of Santa Cecilia alone? Could he trade the life of one for the lives of many?

There is no place in Mexico that is safe, Ernesto had said. I’m done for the moment you speak.

If the Federal army finds me, I’ll hang.

For all the turmoil in his soul, John managed to let nothing show. He looked up again, hands clasping together. “This man’s crimes must have been grievous--”

“He is a deserter, and he murdered a man far better than himself to escape.” The pain was in the commander’s voice again, a bleeding, open wound. “He must hang for it.”

They won’t give me the kindness of making it a clean fall with a broken neck, he’d said.

“... I see,” John said, and drew in a deep breath. He let his gaze wander around, across the faces of the men gathered by the soldiers - oh Lord, young Óscar was among them, eyes wide and scared behind his glasses - as he silently begged forgiveness from each of them. Anything to save his flock, he’d sworn to himself and to God, but this - this he could not do. Ernesto was of his flock too, the lost sheep. Whatever the consequences, they would be his own to live with.

Finally, he looked up again to meet Miguel’s gaze - and to his utter astonishment, Miguel met his gaze… and shook his head, so slightly.

Don’t tell him.

He knows.

Shock was almost great enough to make John lose his composure, but just almost. He sighed, and shook his head. "I am sorry, commander," he heard himself saying, his own voice distant. "I know no man by such name."

All at once, any humanity that has seemed to have returned to the man’s eyes was gone. “I see. Well, thank you for your useless intervention. Twenty-nine more men!” he screamed, turning to the soldiers. He turned his horse and John acted out on instinct, reaching up to grab the reins.

“Miguel is only a child!” John exclaimed, holding onto the reins despite the commander’s effort to tear it from his grasp. Only a child who reminded him of another he’d been forced to leave behind so long ago.

Michael was so young, I don’t know if he even remembers me. I don’t even know if they’re all still alive. It’s been so long.

But Miguel was there, alive, in need of help. “He’s only nine - and the boy over there with the glasses - they are still too young for this war. In God’s name--”

“God cares not for what happens here! Go preach to someone else, gringo! Let go!”

“For your own soul, if not for their lives! They’re children!”

“Let go, or I’ll shoot the boy in the head right now!”

“You monster! What sort of beast--”

“ENOUGH!”

There was the gleam of metal in the sun, a deafening bang, and screams. A terrible force knocked John back in the dust, tearing all breath out of his lungs. The sun filled his eyes for just a moment, impossibly bright, before cobwebs of darkness clouded his vision. He felt a terrible heat, something filling his mouth and soaking through his clothes. Thoughts ran through his mind like galloping horses, disjointed and increasingly muddled.

Is this it? Is it the end?

I will never see them again.

I am going to Hell, aren’t I?

Oh thank God, thank God he didn’t shoot him.

More cries, and a voice above all others, crying out Miguel’s name, full of the anguish only a father can feel. Hector's voice.

I am sorry, John tried to say, but all that left him was a gurgling sound. I couldn’t do it.

Yet even now, as he slipped out of consciousness, as he begged for God’s forgiveness and for those boys’ safety, he knew he could not regret his choice to give Ernesto a chance to save himself. If it cost him Hell, so be it. He would take the punishment.

Keep them safe, John begged without words, and dropped his head on the cobblestones, letting himself fall into nothingness as the screams around him faded into silence.

***

[Back]

[Next]

***

A/N: Have some additional art by @whattimeisitintokyo to, uh, lighten up the mood, I guess?

#pixar coco #ernesto de la cruz #hector rivera #imelda rivera #miguel rivera #coco #fake priest au

40 notes · View notes

gloryofluv · 3 years

Text

Order Up! Chapter 24

A cute little play date in the park? Oh yes!!

Previous Chapter

Alex climbed out of her car and resituated her shorts, and fixed the strap on her overalls. Her pink crop top revealed the crown just above the top of the overalls. This was actually an adorable outfit that Asmodeus assisted with today.

She shouldered her bag and walked into the cafe while shoving her sunglasses to her hair. Jess was at the register and smirked as Alex came up to the register.

“Wow, girl. You sure look different. I didn’t recognize you until you took off your sunglasses,” she laughed.

“I’m trying something new. What do you think?” Alex asked and pivoted.

“I think it’s fantastic! Whoever was your fashion coordinator, give them my number. This is fun,” Jess giggled while shaking her head.

Jordan walked out and blinked. “Oh, honey, wow. You are a bottle of bubbly sunshine in that outfit,” he laughed.

“Thanks, J. It’s part of my rebranding,” she voiced and twirled. “Good?”

“Oh, yes,” Jordan nodded. “Beyond good. I would have dressed you similarly a long time ago if you had only listened to me.”

“Legs for days, babe. I don’t even think I’ve ever seen you in shorts,” Jess noted.

Alex laughed and shifted. “Well, I’ve never owned anything above my knee line for public wear.”

“Who are you looking all cute and edible for?” Jordan questioned.

“Probably Mr. Dad about to walk in,” Jess sighed and shook her head.

Alex turned around to see Simeon and Luke approaching the cafe door. She beamed and waved as Simeon opened the door. “Good afternoon, you two,” she said.

Simeon blinked and recovered when Luke raced forward. Alex bent down and embraced the boy. “Alex! Oh, I had a trip to the dentist, and he said my brushing has become more adequate!”

She giggled and released him. “Good, I’m very proud of you.”

Simeon exhaled and held up two of his fingers. “Fillings,” he breathed.

Alex pouted and rubbed Luke’s shoulder. “Well, brushing is good, sweetheart, but you really need to stop eating sweets after so late, okay?”

Luke grimaced and twitched his nose. “Well, how did you know about that?”

“I have secret angels that do my work for me,” she smirked and glanced over at Simeon.

“Can I buy you something to drink? Maybe a pastry?” Simeon asked.

Alex beamed and nodded. “Of course. How else am I going to have a mini picnic in the park with both of you?” she asked while rubbing Luke’s shoulder.

He was beaming up at her as Simeon approached the counter. “Alex, what would you like? Ladies first.”

Jess laughed and shook her head. “She has her own creation, Simeon. Also, what will it be today for pastry? Lemon cake or chocolate toffee, babe?”

“Lemon, Jess,” Alex smiled.

Simeon touched her shoulder and allowed Luke to order before he had done so. Instead of lingering by the register and chatting after getting his tea, they moved to the hand-off station with Luke. Luke was rambling about school, and Alex was listening intently to the child.

“Look at how cute the three of you are.”

Alex turned around and waved. “Hey, Sol.”

“You look so vibrant today, Alex,” Solomon declared and stood next to them.

She grinned and played with her overall straps. “Asmo helped me today.”

Solomon’s cheeks tinted in the slightest as he nodded. “It’s very fitting.”

“We’re going to the park to have a picnic and swing today, Solomon,” Luke voiced as he rocked on his feet.

“Oh, that’s very neat,” Solomon said with a wave of his hand. “Are you going to push Alex on the swing?”

Her cheeks flushed with color as she shifted. “We haven’t talked about that at all.”

Simeon smiled and tilted his head. “I imagine it will be a very entertaining afternoon.”

Alex rubbed the side of her neck. “What are you up to today, Solomon?”

“Oh, I have a meeting to get to in a bit, and then I was going to work in the lab,” he replied with a circular wave of his hand.

“Always the busy mind,” Simeon said.

Solomon groaned with a grin. “Always, Simeon. You know, Alex is always interested in learning new things. You should have her come with you to ice cream sundae Sunday next week,” he suggested.

“Ice cream sundae Sunday?” Alex asked.

Simeon chuckled and rocked his head. “Once a month, our church does a little afternoon treat for the children. Solomon will come and do tricks and magic for them.”

Alex giggled and shook her head. “You go to church, Solomon?”

“Not as much as I used to,” Solomon hummed. “But I do enjoy making the children smile. It reminds me of innocence and positive intentions in the world.”

She reached over and pinched his cheek. “You’re such a little softy!”

He puffed and gripped her wrist in a loose hold. “Yes, yes, now stop,” he snorted.

“So that’s how you both know each other?” Alex questioned.

Simeon and Solomon nodded. “Solomon is still very much involved with the charity, but he isn’t as active with the church.”

“I prefer to dabble, and our father doesn’t mind because he forgives,” Solomon smirked.

“That he does,” Luke beamed and sighed. “I do love ice cream sundae Sundays.”

Their drinks were called out, and Luke skipped toward the counter, Alex following suit. The boy was beaming up at her and rocked his head. “Simeon likes you, you know?”

“He does?” Alex questioned with a smile.

Luke rocked his head. “You should come with us to bible study tonight and church. Maybe you can stay with us at the home too!”

Alex smiled and rubbed his shoulder. “I have a room right now, Luke.”

“It would be nice. Simeon always says that you are special, and I agree!” Luke declared as he took his cup. “Thank you, Jordan.”

“You’re welcome, Luke,” Jordan smirked before handing Alex hers and her pastry. “Have fun today. It sounds like you have a big day ahead of you.”

Alex laughed and shook her head. “Just the park. I have to be home to cook tonight.”

“Ah, long leash then,” he teased with a wink.

Alex blushed and twitched her nose. “Goodbye, babe.”

She walked over to Simeon as the men were finishing up their conversation. “And after the contract goes through, then Big Brother Wings will receive the new house,” Solomon explained.

“New house?” Alex questioned.

Simeon rocked his head. “We’re taking our mentorship out of the old standard. Group homes don’t have as much focus, and we have enough mentors to be a bit more hands-on. Solomon has volunteered to assist with our next venture as well as Diavolo.”

“Diavolo?” Alex questioned.

Solomon rocked his head. “He made a deal with my association to head a project to abolish the ten child limit and create a more suitable living circumstance. I’m going to participate out of interest in the research for child development. If it’s successful, and my research proves such, then they'll apply it country-wide.”

“Interesting! This is why he wanted me to brush up on the new contracts on Friday, I assume,” She nodded.

“Yes, actually, we’re likely going to be doing plenty of check-ins,” Solomon rocked his head.

Alex laughed and clapped. “How exciting!”

“Completely,” Simeon beamed.

“I’m going to order. Please have a great day,” Solomon smirked and winked at Alex.

Simeon shook his head with a smile. “Goodbye, Solomon.”

“Bye, Solomon!” Luke stopped drinking long enough to wave.

Alex touched his shoulder and nodded. “I’ll talk to you later.”

“Of course,” Solomon agreed.

Simeon escorted Alex and Luke out of the cafe, and they began to walk to the park. Luke took Alex’s hand, and she smiled down at him. “It’s nice just to enjoy the day, isn’t it?” she asked.

Luke rocked his head. “Yes, it is.”

Simeon rubbed her shoulder and sighed. “It truly is wonderful to have you with us today, Alex.”

It was a very tender venture as they reached the park. Simeon pulled off his sweater for Alex to sit on, and Luke joined her, eating his vanilla scones. It wasn’t long before the boy was off, racing around the slide with the other children.

Simeon beamed as he watched the boy. “He’s very enamored by you.”

Alex smiled over at him. “He’s a good boy, Simeon. You’ve done so well with him.”

“It does help that I had little brothers growing up that were similar. Mammon was very much like him, a little more jaded due to his previous home. However, I’m trying to emulate how Lucifer taught me to be.”

Alex sighed and touched his hand. “You’re doing just fine.”

Simeon’s cheeks darkened, and he swallowed. “Alex, you are genuinely the kindest woman I know.”

“I do try,” she nodded.

Simeon cleared his throat and gestured to the playground. “Would you like to take a turn on the swings?” he smiled.

Oh, a distraction? Alex rocked her head. “Sure.”

Simeon assisted her to her feet and plucked up his sweater, placing it on his arm. He then escorted her down to the swing set. What an interesting turn of events. Wholesome and sweet. Luke eventually came over and sat in the swing next to Alex.

“Simeon, isn’t she big enough to push herself?” Luke questioned.

“Yes, Luke. However, sometimes it’s nice to have someone do the work and let gravity do the rest,” Simeon laughed as he pushed Alex.

She laughed and leaned her head against the chain. “I haven’t swung in forever.”

Luke giggled and began his tandem enjoyment. “This is fun.”

Simeon reached over and pushed Luke a few times. However, he would always return to Alex, and his gentle fingers would push against her body. Alex competed with Luke, who could go highest, and Simeon accidentally touched her ass. She ended the competition by jumping into the sand and laughing.

Luke followed suit and broke out into a giggle fit. “Come check this out!”

Alex climbed off the dirt to see Simeon was shifting and avoided looking at her. Well, maybe she made him uncomfortable with the accident? She walked up and patted his shoulder. “Come join us? I think Luke is leading us to the bridge,” she murmured with a sweet smile.

Simeon breathed and nodded with a smile. “Okay.”

It was sweet, fun, and innocent fun. Alex even climbed through the playground with Luke and the other children playing some pretend game of pirates. Sticks for swords and colored rocks for treasure. Simeon participated in assisting her down awkward stairs and pointing out the children hiding.

Alex eventually climbed the tower and declared the island Atlantis. “Atlantians, we must stop this fighting!” she cried and held up her stick. “We cannot survive the tidal waves and crazy waves if we don’t row together.”

Oh, did the children adore her. Alex liked kids; she always had. Well, until one of them launched a mutiny! “Hey, wait, don’t push me off,” she gasped.

“Wait! Don’t hurt her!” Luke cried.

Alex lost her footing as she hung on the bar and fell backward. Into arms. Alex gasped and held tight to the toned shoulders of Simeon as he cradled her. He was smiling with a blush as she puffed. “Thank you,” she murmured.

“Good job, Simeon!” Luke cheered.

“You have a scrape from the jostling. Let me check that for you,” Simeon nodded.

“Continue, pirates, I’ll be back,” she announced.

Simeon didn’t put her down as they crossed the playground, which was so sweet. A blush built on her cheeks as he set her down on the bench, reaching for her iced tea. He ran the condensation on the scrape, and she winced.

“Are you alright?” he questioned.

Alex nodded. “Yes, just a little sting. I didn’t realize I had it on my knee.”

He was ducked down and ran his thumb over it with delicacy before nodding. “It’s just a surface scrape. You’ll live,” Simeon chuckled.

Simeon sat down with her and reached for his tea. “You get along well with the children,” he noted.

“I enjoy kids plenty. They’re so creative,” Alex smiled.

“Would you like to come next Sunday with me?” Simeon questioned.

She tilted her head and smirked. “Do I get ice cream too?”

“Of course,” Simeon laughed.

“Then let me see how my schedule looks, and I’ll put it on my list as pending,” she voiced with a nod.

Simeon touched her cheek, and his lips peeled apart. “I very much like you, Alex,” he murmured.

She broke his eye contact only momentarily to see a sleek black car in the distance. The cafe was within view of the park. She could literally see people come and go, including the owner of that particular car. Alex swallowed and kissed his cheek before pulling away. “I like you too, Simeon.”

He was blushing but looked thrilled. They sat together for a little, watching the children. However, Alex didn’t relax until the said car owner had walked out of the cafe. The car pulled out of the parking lot near the cafe and drove away. Alex breathed and enjoyed the rest of her afternoon with Simeon and Luke.

@rsmrymnt-tea @otome-scribbles

14 notes · View notes

desarcalize · 3 years

Text

Dusk 14: The memories we shared

Cross and Sarah returned to the monastery. The young girl had black circles under her eyes and her skin was pale. She passed next to the other two members without telling anything. She entered her room and closed the door behind her, without wanting to talk to anyone. Cross explained everything that happened and Mother heard everything in shock. In their way back, Sarah didn’t sleep the whole night and she didn’t eat anything.

During the dinner, Cross knocked her door, but no respond. He lowered his head. She had to eat three days and she denied to step out of her room. He opened a little the door and Timcanpy entered the room to accompany her and have an eye on her.

Sarah was sitting on her bed hugging her legs and having her jaw on her knees. Her eyes were swollen and red. She was looking to the void, with empty thoughts. Timcanpy took her scarf in his teeth and flied to her, dropping it on her head. He started flying around her, trying to make her feel better. She took the scarf in her hands and looked at it.

“Fire slowly burns… as the boy is drifting off to sleep” she whispered among the sobs “Red embers flame in the ashes… of our memories” she put her face on the scarf, crying again.

During the night, they were all sitting on the table of the kitchen. Without talking. They heard footsteps and turned, seeing Sarah standing on the stairs. She approached them and stood next to the table.

“Do you… Do you have a little bread?” she whispered cowardly and smiled a little

The three members smiled, been happy that she finally got out of her room and asked for food. Cross stood up approached her and took her in his arms. She closed her eyes, enjoying the warmness of Cross’s hands.

“I shouldn’t have taken you with me” he whispered “No. It was better like that” she said and stepped back, smiling.

The years passed. Sarah’s hair became quickly gray, because of her sadness. It was very hard for her to get through it. Cross told her to throw away the scarf, because it reminds her Mana and this cause her to be sad.

“But this is the reason I keep it” Sarah said and Cross looked at her confused “It reminds me of Mana, the real Mana, not the one who changed because of Millennium Earl” “Why though? Why do you want to keep his memory?” “Because he was an important part of my life” she said smiling.

Cross lowered his head and remembered of Maria. Their love stories were similar. Cross inhaled because he knew that the nun was right. Someone knocked the door of the monastery and Cross walked in the main corridor and opened it. Allen was standing, smiling to them.

“I came to say goodbye” he said “So, you decided, you are leaving” Cross said “Yeah. I am going to London” he was holding the bible. Cross noticed that before some days, the bookmark was at the last chapter, now it was in the middle.

“Are you reading the bible backwards?” “Well, you see…. I can explain. It is not having to do with a Devil’s trick” he said and lowered his head “I just… I just thought that if I read it backward, it will be like I change the time. I makes me feel better to forget about Nea and Mana” “If this brings jubilation to your soul, I cannot say or do anything” They saw Sarah approaching them. She smiled to the blondie man “Your hair” he whispered “You changed to much in only three years, Sarah” “A lot of things happened in these three years” Sarah said smiling.

It was true, after Nea’s death, Mana and Sarah left for almost nine months and went to France, where they became members of European Branch’s Black Order. Sarah met Cross’s classmate and partner when he was training himself to be an Exorcist master, Froi Tiedoll.

Froi was a clam but kind and friendly man. He quickly became friend of Sarah and they went in a mission together. After Millennium Earl’s return, the Akuma attacks became a more frequent phenomenon. Their missions were many, but Sarah learned quickly to control her wings completely.

In her first mission, her wings were weak, a little soft and easy to break against the Akuma attacks. She was in the hospital of Black Order and they brought her food. She looked the big amount of food and she was surprised from herself when she ate all the plates they gave to her.

“Slow down” Cross said laughing “You are going to become fat” “No, she will not” they heard from the dark and they saw a young woman with blondie hair. She was some years older than Sarah and there was a monkey on her shoulder, which left and climbed Sarah’s bed. He took the pie which was in the nun’s plate and returned to his owner, eating it “You little thief” the blondie said laughing and turned to Sarah “I am sorry for that” “It’s fine” the young woman said smiling “Better for me. I will eat less” “You need to eat. You are a parasitic type user. It is the only way to keep your Innocence strong. Lau Shimin is a parasitic user too” she said showing the monkey on her shoulder “But, I heard that your wings were easy to break, don’t you eat well?” Sarah lowered her head “For days I didn’t eat anything, because of reasons which made me feel sad and depressed” “I see. Don’t do that again” the blondie woman said and turned to leave “Eat as much as you want. Your Innocence needs it. You need it” “Wait” Sarah said before the woman was ready to go out of the hospital room “What is your name?” The woman smiled and turned to her “Is Klaud Nine” “I am Sarah Miller” “I know, everyone was talking about you when you arrived. Parasitic users are rare. Well, see you around, Sarah and Cross” she smiled and left the room.

After many months she returned to England, were her hair started to be gray. Cross suggested to her to dye her hair black, but she said that she wants to keep the results of her past and her mistakes. Cross couldn’t change her mind and didn’t want to persuade her. They weren’t sad when Allen left, but it bothered them fact that he stopped send them letters suddenly, for months. They thought that maybe he had problems with his religious school, but months and later years without a letter was too much.

After some months, the circus arrived to Fordwich. It was Sunday and the villagers arrived the church for the Divine Service. Sarah heard some priests shouting telling to someone to go away. She approached them and she saw two priests pushing a clown away from the courtyard of church. One of the pushed him and he felt to the ground

“What is going on?” she asked them and helped him stand up “This joker wants to get in the church” one of the said “And what is the problem with that?” the nun asked “He is a clown! Don’t you see the way he is dressed and his makeup? How can we accept him?” the other said “The God accepts everyone, however they are” the clown was playing with his hands, making funny expression “He is a creep” the first said and they left. Sarah turned smiling and looked the clown, who started walking to a tree of the yard and touched it “When did this tree came out?” he asked “What do you mean?” “I was here, one month ago” the clown said and looked around “And this tree wasn’t here” Sarah laughed “Maybe you didn’t notice it” “Maybe” the clown said and continued walking, whispering lyrics of a song “I will still pray endlessly for this young boy…” Sarah looked at him, shocked “How… How do you know this song? Who are you?”

The clown smiled and ran to her, standing next to her and looked at her from the top to the bottom.

“If I remember correctly, you weren’t here before one month too. Are you new here?” “No, I am here thirty-six years now” “No, I don’t remember you” the clown said dancing around her “I am searching for someone. A seventeen years old girl” “Who? Why?” “The girl’s name is Sarah. Sarah Miller. The reason is personal. I have to see her one month now” “I am this girl. But she was seventeen years old thirty-two years before” “No” the clown said and stepped back “No. You are lying. I left Sarah one month ago. In this yard. You aren’t Sarah. You are an old woman. Sarah didn’t have gray hair, but black, the raven’s wing” “Mana” the woman said and approached him “It’s me. Look my eyes, they haven’t change” “You are lying” he shouted “You are a liar! Where is Sarah? Why don’t she come to see me? She hates me, right? This is what she told me. She told me “I hate you Mana”. I heard it. She hates me” he started crying like a child. Sarah stepped back, scared. Mana’s memories are complicated. He ran to her and grabbed her from her shoulders “Why does she hate me? What have I done to her? I loved her. I loved her and she hates me. Why?”

Sarah was scared. She was afraid that Mana will hurt her, because he doesn’t recognize her, because he is lost in the memories’ abyss. She felt a hand grabbing her from her exorcist uniform. She was pulled back and saw Cross’s back in front of her. He looked at the clown with a furious look.

“Why is this clown bothering you?” “Cross” Sarah whispered “This clown is Mana” “What?” he looked at his face, trying to find anything that would remind him the handsome young man with the milky skin, brown eyes and long brown hair “Get lost” he whispered and the clown stepped back. He lowered his head and a tear ran on his cheek “Tell to Sarah” he whispered “That whatever I did, whatever was the reason that she hates me, I apologies for this reason”

He turned and left the courtyard. Cross turned and saw Timcanpy flying around him.

“Follow him and record everything” Cross said “I want to know what he is doing and what he is planning to do, 24/7. Just be careful not to be noticed”

Timcanpy flied away and followed Mana. Cross clicked his tongue and turned to Sarah, who had her face lowered. He passed next to her and patted her shoulder. Timcanpy returned when circus was ready to leave. Cross saw and heard everything the Mana was saying and doing. He was confused. This man doesn’t look anything like Millennium Earl.

“Maybe he is a split” Mother said “You have a point” Cross said and inhaled “He is searching for Nea. He remembers almost everything about his days in the monastery. He thinks that before one month he left us. He doesn’t remember that he killed and devoured, but he remembers Sarah’s last words to him” “Maybe he is bluffing” “No, he seems so desperate to find Nea. But now the circus is leaving. We will see him again in Fordwich the next year. Unless…” he thought about it a little and looked Timcanpy “How fast can you fly?” he questioned the golem, but it was more like a rhetoric “What do you have in your mind?” “Timcanpy will be my eyes and ears” Cross said and approached his room, taking a box of his tools “He will follow the circus and take records of Mana. He will return every end of the month, giving me the informations he found”

After two days of experiments. He knew that the golem was ready for it’s purpose. He got out of the church and let it go, following the way that the circus went to the next city.

#dgm #d gray man #desarcalize #cross marian #sarah miller #nea walker #neah d campbell #nea d campbell #neah #mana walker #mana d campbell #mana #past!allen #my story #my oc #katsura hoshino

4 notes · View notes

victorsandvanquishers · 4 years

Note

The pit and the pendulum for Asta, Yuno and Noelle

I had a mighty fun time writing this one. Enjoy! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

~~~

Noelle glimpsed an elongated shadow flit across the wall before disappearing from sight. Any other day of the week, she would have brandished her wand and screamed bloody murder while sending a tornado beam of water at the perpetrator. Today, however, she closed her eyes and bit into the insides of her cheeks. She willed her heart to calm down. She conjured an image of her mother's portrait and focused on the tiny details. She remembered an array of colors, and delicate brushwork that brought Acier's embroidery to life on the canvas. The mix of greys and purples kept Noelle occupied as her heart rate returned to normal.

Finally, she opened her eyes and shakily exhaled. Any other time, any other place in the world, she would have picked a fight to retain her honor, but today wasn't the day.

And Asta's church in Hage wasn't the place.

A hand squeezed Noelle's shoulder, and this time she did scream.

Yuno's hand went over her mouth before she could elicit any real noise. “Calm down, it's me,” he commanded gruffly into her ear. Any other person, and she would have elbowed him in the ribs before running away, but it wasn't just any other person, it was Yuno, and this was his church too.

She closed her eyes and focused on her breathing again. Yuno let go of her and gave her space. Noelle counted to fifty before opening her eyes and facing the empty wall in front of her. She refused to turn to the young man standing next to her. She didn't need to look at his face to know that he was eyeing her critically. She was used to it. Noelle had always been an interloper, even in her own life. Her own flesh and blood had seen her as a nuisance. She knew what it was like to be judged and metaphorically executed before even being given a chance to speak, so she didn't turn to Yuno and his liquid gold eyes. Instead, she trained her gaze at the plain wall illuminated by sickly yellow light, and thought hard.

“He's here,” she heard Yuno say softly. “I can feel him.”

Can you though? She desperately wanted to snap. Instead, she exhaled again and set her mouth in a grim line. “He doesn't have any mana for us to track, so what exactly are you sensing? It could be the demon playing tricks for all we know.”

Like the trick it played just now, she thought grimly.

“I spent my childhood with him; I think I know what I'm talking about,” he bit back. Noelle felt a threatening spike in his mana, and so she matched it by raising her own. If he wanted a dick-swinging contest in the middle of a church, then she'd give him just that.

After the exchange, an eerie silence descended on them. Even the stray candles with their yellow light seemed to mute their gentle flickering. Noelle tried swallowing the dread in her throat, but it merely pushed upwards. Any other day, and Noelle would have found a 'noble' excuse for her fear, but not today, not in the old church that used to be Asta and Yuno's home.

But now it was home to something else, wasn't it? Something more sinister, something that put the fear of Hell in Noelle's heart.

A man needs a home, Asta had told her that last day she saw him. It was the day Nacht had finished training him, the day Asta had chosen to sit down on the floor of the Black Bulls base, and go inside his own head to negotiate the terms and conditions of his possession. No one had tried to stop him, because that's why Nacht was here, right? A man possessed by a demon, so friendly with his monster that it perched on Nacht's shoulder like a cat, like it was Rouge cuddling against Vanessa, that's why Nacht had appeared when he did.... Right?

She and the rest of the Black Bulls hadn't stopped Asta. If anything, they'd encouraged him. Noelle had encouraged him. Asta did it to them all the time, so they'd rallied together and told Asta to wrestle the demon into submission, to take what was necessary so that they could finally be on their way to rescue Captain Yami, Captain Vangeance, and Loropechika.

They'd been wrong. They'd been so fucking wrong.

“The shadow,” Yuno started softly, “where did it go?” Noelle pointed to her right, and he inhaled sharply. “I saw it go to the left,” he hissed. “I swear.”

And Noelle believed him. When Asta had finally opened his eyes, it had merely been an hour since he'd first closed them, but to the Black Bulls, to Noelle, it'd felt like eternity. When Asta had opened his eyes, his left green eye was dull and flat, but the right red eye was pulsating with dark energy. Asta's sclera in his left eye had turned black. A fang had erupted from his jaw, and hung like a snaggletooth from his lips. When Asta had opened his eyes, he wasn't Asta anymore.

And then he was gone. He'd brushed by Noelle and told him about finding a home, and Noelle had guessed off the top of her head that it was the church in Hage, and so they'd prepared for flight. It helped that the village was enroute to Spade, so they'd joined the rest of the army, and then they'd set off.

Once they'd all reached the village, the leaders of the separate squadrons set up comms stations along the border of the Neutral Zone as Yuno and Noelle went to retrieve Asta.

They'd found Asta and Yuno's family huddled in the little community hall instead of the church. That was where they'd learned that something had come knocking on their door the night before. Father Orsi and Sister Lily being of the cloth had willingly opened their doors. They'd been shocked to find that it was none other than Asta, but even that was short-lived.

The demon had looked up at the Sister and told her that it'd won. That had been enough for the Sister to gather everyone else and run.

And now, Noelle and Yuno were inside of the church that had been taken over by the creature that looked like Asta, while the rest of the Black Bulls and assorted members of the Golden Dawn were just outside the church with reinforcements, willing to storm the little church the second Noelle and Yuno gave the sign.

“If we split up again, it'll get us,” Yuno said. “Let's start with the left and then circle back around.” They were standing in the middle of the church, facing one of the walls. To the left was the door to the cellar. To the right were a flight of stairs that went up to the bedrooms above.

“He said he was looking for a home,” Noelle said softly.

Yuno paused before speaking again. “The cellar isn't home.... but our old room is.”

Noelle didn't argue and let Yuno take the lead. He grabbed a single candle and led her up the stairs to where the bedrooms were. When they reached an empty hall, Noelle finally brandished her wand as she followed Yuno past the open doors.

One room was clearly the Father's, with a little desk pushed to the corner next to a clothing stand that held scarves, hats, and outer robes. The next room seemed to belong to the smaller children, a set of beds lined up next to each other on one side of the room, while cabinets lined the other side. The final room with the open door was the Sister's. Her habit was still on the floor where she'd dropped it when rushing to get out of the church with the children. When Noelle had found her in the community center, she'd had a shawl draped over her hair and shoulders. She'd been dressed in plain nightclothes like the children gathered around her, and the Father who'd been sobbing close by.

The fourth door was closed. Yuno took a sharp breath.

“This was our room,” Yuno said gravely. Noelle could only see his back, but she could taste the dread in the air. “The older children get to have their own room once the eldest of the house leave,” Yuno continued. “Asta and I got it when we turned twelve, and when we left, it went to Recca. When she leaves, it'll go to Nash.”

Noelle glanced at the plain door, then back to Yuno. She could see the rigid shoulders and harsh posture, and knew that he was scared. She did the only thing she could and sidestepped him before opening the unlocked door.

The room was just as small as she'd imagined. There was a small bed to the side, a desk, a cabinet, a bookshelf on the opposite side, and a small rug in the middle. It looked like it was lived in, unlike the cold, clinically clean rooms back at the Silva Estate. The teenager, Recca, had left two books open on the rug, and a mug of water next to it. She'd been reading when Asta had appeared the night before.

But there was no Recca in this room now. Recca was at the community hall, had been protectively holding the two youngest orphans, a haunting look in her dark green eyes.

What was in the room wasn't human. Noelle peered at the man slumped against the wall underneath the room's only window. The early rays of dawn washed against his cracked skin, and Noelle swore she saw blood. It had been less than twenty-four hours since Asta had left the Black Bulls base, and now they were at the church in Hage, just hours before their army marched across the Neutral Zone and into Spade territory.

And it would all be for naught if Asta didn't come with them, if Asta didn't lend them his strength, if Asta couldn't be their weapon.

Noelle burst into tears. Wasn't that why they'd pushed him? So that he could be Wizard King Julius's weapon? So that they could annihilate the Dark Triad and conquer Spade in the same breath? That's why Asta went to speak to the Anti-Magic Demon, wasn't it?

“Asta,” Noelle's voice broke through the room like chalk on a board. Asta didn't budge.

“Asta,” Yuno repeated. He walked up next to her and breathed heavily. “We're here, Asta. Noelle and I – we're here to take you home.”

Asta didn't respond.

“Asta-” Noelle tried again, but that elongated shadow, the horns, the creature finally materialized in front of them, and both Noelle and Yuno jumped back. The towering, eight foot tall demon seemed to climb out of the ceiling before dropping into Asta's lap.

“A man needs a home,” the Anti-Magic Demon enunciated, as if Noelle and Yuno were children and not soldiers of the Wizard King's court. Its voice was deep and strong, and Noelle feared the inevitable – that Asta had already fallen for its sick charm.

The demon kissed Asta's cheek and held his face in its hand. “A man needs a home!” It said louder, more clearly. The candle light shook with the force of its words, and Noelle wondered if they even needed it anymore, not when dawn was finally peeking through the clouds.

“A man needs a home,” it said for the third. “A man needs a home he can spend time in, with the people he loves. When a man loves a man...”

The demon finally turned its face to Noelle and Yuno. “When a man loves a man, he'll do anything for him. Isn't that right?”

Noelle would have screamed if Yuno hadn't yelled first.

“Get away from Asta!” Yuno yelled while raising his arm. Before he could summon a gale, Noelle snapped his arm back. He gave her a nasty look, but stopped immediately. A gale in such a tiny room was as good as a death sentence. If the roof came down, they'd all die.

Noelle turned back to the creature sitting in Asta's lap like it belonged there. In its corporeal state, the Anti-Magic Demon was almost eight feet tall with rich, black skin the color of burnt coffee beans. A halo of floating, black tendrils could be construed as its hair. Its eyes were bloody red pits dug into sickly yellow sand, and its mouth was full of sharp, white teeth and a black tongue. A sharp tail wagged languidly in the air.

If it hadn't been for the dawn's rays, it would have melded in with the shadows.

The creature turned back to Asta and nuzzled into his neck. “When a man loves a man,” it murmured loud enough for them to hear, “he'll do anything to protect his beloved. Isn't that right, Asta?”

“Shut your trap,” Asta barked back. “You're scaring them.”

Noelle was stunned. It was the first time he'd spoken since they'd entered the room.

But was it Asta? Was that her Asta, her first love, the one she never thought she'd grow to care about so much?

“Asta?” She heard Yuno lament out loud. “Asta, what are you doing?”

“What do you think he's doing?” The creature snapped, drawing bloody circles on Asta's skin with its sharp nail.

“I said shut it,” Asta growled again.

“Asta!” Noelle yelled. “Come back with us, Asta!”

Asta finally raised his head and looked straight at her. His lone green eye shimmered with tears. Noelle was already crying, because what else could she do? That was her Asta slumped against the wall, her Asta holding the demon in his lap while it kissed his neck and played with his hair.

“Asta,” Yuno was crying now too. “Asta, please,” he begged, and Noelle wanted to beg too, because that could work, right? They could beg, and Asta would come back to them. “I love you,” she heard Yuno say.

Asta's lone, green eye overflowed with tears. When the first drops fell down his cheek, the demon gently wiped them away with its thumb.

“Asta,” Noelle tried. “We can find another way. We ca-”

“It's too late now,” Asta interrupted gently. “It's too late for all of that.” Suddenly, he moved. Noelle and Yuno inhaled sharply as he stood to his full height while the demon melted into shadows before reforming behind him. It seemed to stick to his back. Wrapping its long arms around Asta's shoulders, it buried its face in the crook of his neck.

“It's too late now,” Asta repeated. “I'm sorry for inconveniencing you guys. He...” Asta didn't say the creature's name, but both she and Yuno knew who he was referring to. “He wanted to come back here. He says this is where we spent our first night together.” Asta laughed helplessly, as if it were all one, big cosmic joke. “I didn't understand what he meant until we were in the room. This the first place I put the grimoire down after I received it. I put it on the shelf next to Yuno's, and went to sleep on the floor. He said... He said that it was the first night he truly felt like he was home. This church...”

“Is our home,” the demon finished for him, raising its head. Its glittering red eyes and pointy white teeth looked as if it could rip into Asta's neck at any given moment, but instead, it nuzzled Asta's neck with its pointy nose while staring dead into Noelle's eyes.

It's your prison, Noelle realized with horror.

Asta put on another pained smile. “Let's get going! I think I've caused enough trouble...”

Noelle and Yuno watched as the short man stalked past them and into the hall. They followed as if compelled. Once they were outside, Noelle felt the sunlight sting her eyes. When her vision cleared, she saw a variety of weapons trained on Asta, who stood still in the clearing outside of the church.

Noelle and Yuno froze behind him, because what could they say? What could they even begin to say?

The demon clung lazily to Asta's back, picking at his hair while its tail slithered across the grass.

It was only when Nacht came forward that Noelle snapped out of it.

Gimodelo cackled as Nacht's perpetual smile widened. “No fucking way,” said the little critter on Nacht's shoulder. “Even I didn't offer that bargain.”

“Asta, did you even try?” Nacht asked softly, his smile unnervingly wide.

“He did,” the demon answered for Asta, “and I told him I wouldn't give him any more power.”

Nacht's smile faltered. “A trickster.”

“No.” This time it was Asta. He was looking up at Nacht. “I chose this.”

“Did you, really?”

Asta elbowed the creature off his shoulder and waited for it to materialize into its full form next to him. Everyone watched as the emaciated creature sprouted leathery wings on top of its already ghastly appearance. In the brightness of the early morning, Noelle finally realized the horns that protruded from its head, wreathed in the black tendrils of its hair. At its full height, long tail, and enormous wings, it looked like a wraith out of a book of grim fairy tales.

“This,” Asta said softly, “was my choice.”

Nacht looked at Asta. Noelle and Yuno looked at Asta. They all looked at Asta and not at the demon that preened next to him.

“You married your demon,” Nacht said out loud, and Gimodelo shrieked with laughter. Noelle saw Klaus drop to his knees. The Father and Sister watched with tearful eyes as Asta grasped one of the creature's hands in his own. He squeezed and something fell next to her. Noelle's head snapped to where Yuno was on his knees, his cheeks wet with tears. Noelle tried to blink away her own, but found them still coming, as if a wave of melancholy had permanently settled in her chest.

Gimodelo's shrieks of laughter resounded throughout the open air, while Nacht finally stepped back and turned to the captains in charge of Spade's assault. “He's signed the contract,” Nacht said casually to Fuegoleon Vermillion. “He can do the job.”

“How do we know that?” Charlotte was swift and cutting, as always.

“Because he's a god now!” Gimodelo chuckled with mirth. Charlotte gave the smaller demon a nasty look, but Nacht merely nodded along.

“Gimodelo's right – Asta is akin to a god now.”

“Asta?” the Sister called. Noelle's eyes went to the woman who stood in her nightclothes, a dirty shawl over her head and shoulders.

Asta finally looked at someone other than Nacht. “Hey Sister Lily – sorry I scared you last night. I'm alright now; I promise.”

“He'll always be alright,” the demon added with a chuckle. It slipped its arms over Asta's shoulders, and pressed its cheek against his hair. “He has me forever.”

And with that, Fuegoleon barked at everyone to go back to their stations because they had an invasion to carry out, a bloody invasion that led Asta to the demon's doorstep.

That day, Gimodelo's words followed Noelle as she watched Asta sit down in the middle of the clearing with the demon draped over him like some coat he couldn't shrug off. Even when Noelle slumped against Vanessa, her ears rang with Gimodelo's insinuations, with Nacht's faltering smile, the contract, Asta's choice.

That night, she and Yuno sat side by side and watched as the demon fashioned a bed out of grass and leaves. When the moon appeared above, Asta laid down. The demon splayed against his side, its large head pressed against where his heart was.

“He chose Hell,” Nacht told them, coming up from the rear. “You have a choice when you enter its domain. You can choose how much you want to give, and what it is that you want, but you can't have it all. You can't have everything unless you give everything.”

“So what happens next?” Yuno asked hollowly.

Nacht sighed. “If Asta had chosen a contract like mine, he would have died a natural death, and the grimoire would have been passed to someone else. But that's not what happens when you give yourself fully, and when the demon grants you all its power – in a way, you marry it. For better or worse, the demon spends its days latched at the human's hip, and for the human, that could mean hundreds of years because of the power coursing through their body. But the day Asta perishes, naturally or unnaturally, his soul won't depart like a normal human being's.”

“What will happen to his soul?” Noelle asked, even though deep down, she knew the answer.

Nacht settled in between them. Noelle watched as Gimodelo perched on his shoulder and peered at the Anti-Magic Demon and Asta embracing each other down in the clearing below. She turned back to her first love and the monster, and saw that they were sound asleep.

Above, the moon shone beautifully over the village.

“It'll go to the Underworld,” Nacht said finally. “When a demon offers everything, it asks for eternity in return. That's why it's called a marriage. Asta didn't sell his humanity; he sold his afterlife. When he dies, he'll walk with that demon to Hell, and one day – he'll wake up as one himself. How's that for a love story?”

#Black Clover #Asta #Noelle Silva #Yuno #avafanfics

18 notes · View notes

hands-dripping-ink · 4 years

Text

Max Lightwood-Bane Part 3

Yes. I’m still writing it. Aaaaaand, don’t worry, there’s a lot more to come

Part 2 (Link for part 1 is in part 2 too)

Part 4

Tagging: @daisyherxndale @hkthreethousand @foreverfallentoast @insane---chaos @tessagraycarstairs

Constant inspirations: @lily-chen-deserves-better @themostawesomehuman @fieryfantasybooklover @brotherlipsmackariahs @idontgetit-whydoihavetosaymyname

(If anyone wants to be on my tag list PLEASE DM ME OR SEND ME AN ASK)

Enjoy!

⇩

Max arrived late at training that day. He’d been making plans with Rafe, who had gone to do “stuff”, to scout out the school and Central Park, where Rafe had killed the first Greater Demon.

What awaited him was a special guest. “Mina Carstairs!” Max exclaimed, and ran to hug one of his best friends. Wilhelmina Yiqiang Ke Carstairs, daughter of Tessa Gray and James Carstairs, 15 years old, hugged him back with fierce affection.

“Max! I’ve been waiting for you,” she said when they broke apart and Max could finally breathe. Mina’s grin brought a smile to his own face; her cheeriness was contagious.

“Sorry, didn’t realise it was so late. How come you’re here? Did Uncle Jem or Aunt Tessa come with you?” He looked around, in hopes of finding Tessa’s serious face, or Jem’s kind one.

For a second a dark cloud came over Mina’s expression, but then she brightened, making Max wonder if maybe it was a trick of his imagination. “No, I’m here alone. Ma and Ba had some urgent work in Los Angeles. Thought I’d come visit you while they’re gone.”

Max had a feeling there might be more to that, but didn’t ask more. He led her to the training room, where they could hear voices from inside. Mina, ever the troublemaker, shot a gesture which Max interpreted as quiet, idiot! when in his defence he hadn’t even said anything. Yet.

“…not necessary!” came Aunt Clary’s voice, stubborn and determined. She seemed upset, although Max couldn’t imagine why. Aunt Clary was one of the strongest people he knew, easy to laugh and hard to deter.

“Clary…” that was Uncle Jace, his voice surprisingly serious. The rest of the words were cut off by Church’s large and accusatory meow right where Max and Mina stood. “Stupid cat!” Max was fairly sure Uncle Jem would not approve of Mina calling Church stupid, but before he could point that out, the doors of the training room burst open.

Clary looked surprised, and as Max had suspected, a little upset, but Jace looked as he always did: a lazy smile on his face, ready to make a joke.

Clary hugged Mina and told her she looked really pretty. Mina went on to ramble about “How Aunt Clary’s top that day really complimented her eyes.” Typical Mina, ever the flatterer. She hugged Jace too, who winked at Max and then he and Clary went down the hall.

“What do you think they were talking about?” Mina said almost immediately as soon as they were out of sight, looking as if she’d found her favourite ice cream in the fridge (you knew I was going to make an ice cream analogy).

“I don't know,” he replied, slowly. It surprised Max that something could upset his Aunt Clary, who was one of the strongest and bravest shadowhunters he’d known.

Mina looked disappointed. She could never resist a good story. “So, you wanna train with me?” She asked, her eyes brightening again. Max nodded, Mina’s contagious smile making its way to his own face.

As they entered the training room, they were immediately met by a loud thump! as Auraline Herondale plopped out of the armchair she was hiding under, hitting her head in the process. Ari may have inherited extraordinary angelic powers from her parents, which allowed her to best almost anyone in a fight, but that didn’t stop her from being as clumsy as an egg.

A blush climbed to Auraline's face as soon as she came face to face with Mina. Mina was about two years older than her, and ever since Ari met her she’d adored the other girl. Max found it all oddly amusing and very sweet.

Mina hugged the flustered girl, and Max was half sure Ari would faint right there. Ari was a sweetheart to everyone she met. She worshipped Mina.

“It is so great to see you again, Ari! How have you been?” Mina asked her. Auraline’s eyes went full wide, making her look like an overly frightened fly in the web of a spider. Max found it weird, mostly because of the genetics, that Auraline might have a crush on Mina. Jace was descended from Tessa’s children while Mina was herself Tessa’s daughter. Nonetheless, they were both his best friends.

(Ok, ok. I get that it's *kind of* incest. But only a little bit. I think it’s cute. And they totally don’t have to date. Just saying.)

After regaining her composure, Ari managed to sputter out that she was fine. Mina’s eyes glittered. “So, tell me what you overheard,” she said, a devilish grin spreading on her face.

Thank you so much for reading I love y’all

#max lightwood bane #fanfic

33 notes · View notes

thorne93 · 4 years

Text

Unforeseen Chasm (Part 48)

Prompt: Two sisters fall for men that are absolute enemies. The love they have could tear all of them apart, or it could bring them together.

Word Count:4613

Warnings: Language, last part that deals with Ultron movie, reader fights bff, mind control, widow protocol reactivated, song for this part: Note: This is by far the longest thing I’ve ever written (including my novels). It’s a collaboration with the amazing @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo. It started as a funny “What if…?” and it evolved and got huge. This took two years to write. We are both proud and happy and we hope you enjoy it. It follows from Thor 1 to Endgame in the MCU. Some of the timelines may be off in order to fit certain people, and some characters may show up earlier or in different ways than they have in the movie. But for the most part, it follows the MCU. It also has a bit of crossover with some other Marvel characters throughout the story.

Masterlist for Unforeseen Chasm

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Only two hours later, you got a call -- from Tony… This was either great news or really bad news.

“Hello?”

“You and Reindeer games busy?” he asked, his tone serious.

“No, why--”

“We’ve got a crack at Ultron, but we’re gonna need all hands on deck. I don’t like having to ask, but it may mean we can save Shannon. You in?”

“Of course, yeah, what do you need?”

“Be combat ready in five minutes. We’ll swing by to get you. We’re going to Sokovia, taking the fight to him.”

“Got it. We’ll be ready.”

You two hung up and you turned to Loki. “Get on your battle gear, we’re going to fight,” you informed.

He gave you a puzzled look but it quickly vanished when he followed your lead. He became clad in his old leather fighting gear, and you threw on the clothes Shannon had given you. A hooded robe, skin tight pants, and black t-shirt with boots.

The jet landed on the roof of your apartment and you two climbed in. No one gave you any warm looks, or nods of approval, except Clint. In fact, one face was new -- a dark red man, or… android? He had a stone in his head and he eyed you up and down with curiosity, and also… knowledge, as if he understood you. Suddenly, it dawned on you that he must’ve been what was in the cradle. Somehow, the Avengers gave him life, and trusted him enough to pit him against Ultron.

And clearly, the twins were now a part of this group, curiously enough. No one had taken the time to explain how or why they were here though.

Steve began his speech, and ultimately told you what your top priority was.

“Tony wants to take first stab at getting Ultron. The rest of us, our job is to evacuate the city. We find Shannon, we find what Ultron has been building, and we clear the field. Keep the fight between us. The people of Sokovia didn’t ask for this.” He took a moment to think, to pause. “Ultron thinks we’re monsters, that we’re what’s wrong with the world. This isn’t just about beating him. It’s about whether he’s right.”

And so it began. You landed just outside of the city, Wanda and Pietro got the civilians going, they began the evacuation and you tried to help, going to homes and apartments, encouraging people to leave. Letting them know the city was under attack. Clint found you and walked up to you as if he had something important.

“I’ve got the coordinates for Shannon, I figured you’d want to be the one to go get her. Take Banner with you in case it’s a trap.”

“What about the people?” you asked, frowning.

“We’ve got them. We’ll fight him. Go get her and then she can help us.”

“Thanks, Clint.”

He nodded. “Move your ass, kid.”

You smiled at him and ran off to find Shannon. She was in an abandoned church, where you dashed down the stairs, Banner right behind you.

“Shannon?” you whisper-yelled.

“I’m in here! He’s not here,” she replied making noises with some chain.

You immediately dashed over. “Oh thank God!” you said with a sigh of relief. “Hang on. Stand back,” you ordered. Shannon immediately backed up and you put your hand on the gate that divided you two. You charged the metal and blew it off the hinges. She ran out and hugged you tight.

“Hate to break this up, but we need to get back to the team,” Banner said from right behind you.

“You’re right,” you agreed, letting her go.

“Where are we headed and are people being evacuated?” She instantly got into Avenger’s mode. She started walking with you two through the way you entered. “What’s the situation right now?”

“City is being evacuated. There is some kind of core on the high ground, at the entrance of this church. We can’t tell what it’s going to do, but Ultron seems like he wants it,” you explained. “Tony’s going after him himself first.”

“Tony is doing what!? Is anyone else with him? Who told him it was okay to go on his own? He doesn’t know what Ultron is capable of.” She looked panicked and began scanning the area hoping to find the flying red suit of armor. “Give me a new mic to communicate with the team. I had mine taken by one of his bots.”

You fished one out of your suit and handed it to her.

“Thanks, Y/N. Alright, team it’s good to be back. Now give me an update. Cap, what’s going on?” Shannon flew off into the air to get a better look at things. “Tony, what is God's name are you doing trying to take on Ultron?” She turned to you and Bruce. Y/N, help the twins evacuate the civilians. Bruce, honey, I need my big guy to come out and help if you could.”

Bruce nodded and proceeded to remove his shirt and place it somewhere, turning to look at the two women, he winked at Shannon and began changing into the Hulk.

“Alright, big guy, go smash the robots,” she ordered the Hulk.

He smiled and ran off.

“I need to find out what he’s up to. Babe, what’s he hiding in the middle of town?” was all he said before it when quiet on his end.

“Damn it, Tony.” She shook her head and she flew back down to you. “Alright, Y/N, let’s go get ourselves a slice of this fight.”

“Sounds good to me,” you said with a firm nod.

“Shannon, it’s good to have you back. We’re in the middle of town, the twins are helping evacuate the people--” he got cut off while fighting a robot.

“The twins? As in the Maximoffs, they’re helping us now?”

“Yes they seem to have taken Clint’s words into consideration and have decided to help us,” Natasha responded from some other part of the town.

“Alright we’re heading over to the center and see if I can get any of the people out of there.” She flew back up into the air. “You’re welcome to join me or any of the other’s if you want, Y/N/N” Shannon waved at you to come up with her to the sky.

“I’ll go wherever you need me,” you responded into the coms. “Do we need combat or civilian evacuation? Someone tell me where you want me to go, and I’ll go.”

“Come give me a hand getting them on the carriers. I can only do so much with my arrows,” Clint says. “I’m near the hospital. There’s too many people to get evacuated from here.”

“On it,” you said quickly before launching off, using your powers to lift you off the ground. To your knowledge, Loki was fighting off robots near the church, using his illusions and tricks. Normally, you’d be worried for him, but a fight like this was nothing compared to battles he’d faced in Asgard. Not to mention, you couldn’t be your best self if you were too worried about him. So you put your faith in your beloved and found Clint. “You get the people on the boats,” you said before lifting your hands, your power extending from your fingers. The dark purple power electrified twenty bots at once, disabling them. “While I stay here and fight.”

Clint stared at you for a second, befuddled. “Looks like you’ve got it,” he said before running off.

You laughed slightly before going into battle mode, slinging robots with your power, charging nearby items and throwing them, electrifying anything flying above you.

After five minutes of fighting, all of the Avengers and you and Loki made it back to the main part of the church, asking Stark what the drill was. To this, he informed you the core was important. If Ultron got to it, it meant you lost. This was your ultimate mission now. All of you guarded it with your life, surrounding it, readying yourself for whatever Ultron had planned.

“Is that the best you can do?” Thor yelled as the last robot got destroyed by Hulk as he entered where the drill was located.

Ultron stopped trying to get close and in an instant called all his robots to where he was.

“You had to ask,” Steve remarked toward the god.

“This is the best I can do.” Ultron began saying, spreading his arms wide to show his army. He pointed to everyone around the drill, stopping right at Shannon. “This is exactly what I wanted, All of you against all of me.”

Shannon seemed to harden her gaze and began to walk towards Ultron and turned to face everyone else, her eyes were looking directly at you. There was something unreadable in her gaze. It confused you. You’d never seen that look on her face before.

“How can you possibly hope to stop me?” Ultron smirked, watching as everyone was confused as to why Shannon was moving away from them. “When your two strongest are going to fight head to head to survive.” He flicked his wrist and Shannon charged at you, completely emerged in the dark swirls of her powers.

Everyone was fighting off the robots as fast as they could to try and contain Shannon from doing damage to anyone.

Your eyes went wide as you tried to dodge her oncoming attack.

“Shannon, stop!” you screamed. Suddenly, deja vu hit you. You’d been here before, only before, it was Shannon begging you to stop attacking her and New York. You were brainwashed so what was making her… Suddenly it hit you… The Red Room. Her training had been a mixture of Natasha’s and the Winter Soldier’s. This would be hard to crack.

“Shan,” you begged, backing up, stopping your powers from attacking her. “Listen to me. You don’t want to do this. He’s in your head. Don’t let him win,” you pleaded. But she kept stepping towards you, forcing you to back up. You didn’t want to fight her. Not again. Why was everyone always trying to pit you two against each other?

Shannon kept quiet, only the slight grunt here and there from throwing her powers at you. Seeing as this was leading nowhere, she jumped and threw herself into you at full force, knocking the wind out of you. “Why won’t you fight me? Too scared because you’ll know I'll beat you?” She smirked and threw a punch after punch at your face, which hurt like hell. “You always were a pathetic little thing needing someone to keep you safe.” She laughed not even caring that she had gotten blood to come out of your mouth.

You closed your eyes in frustration before letting your body electrify itself, blasting her off of you. You stood up wearily. “Please… don’t do this.” You held your hands up, ready to defend yourself.

“Get up, Y/N.” Shannon stood up, not getting thrown too far. “GET UP!” She laughed. “What happened to us fighting to see who really was the strongest?” She ran towards you pushing you into the wall of the side of the church.

“I don't have anything to prove, Shannon,” you grunted, staring her down. You tried to push her off but she was just too strong.

“And why not? Aren’t you tired of living in everyone's shadow?” She kept pushing, causing the brick to crack around your body. “Show me those Asgardian powers of yours or are they really just those hat tricks your little Loki can do?”

Your eyes grew dark as you glared at her. “Tired of people thinking the wrong things,” you said with a huff before finally pulling some power. You put your hand on the bricks beside you, charging all of them and blasting the wall at her, effectively getting her off of you, but that was it. It only backed her up a few steps. You spit out some of the blood pooling in your mouth. “We don’t have to do this. You’re the strongest. There, I admit it,” you tried, holding your hands up in defeat.

Your eyes flashed to the team, they were all so busy fighting Ultron and the bots, they couldn’t watch you two as well. You just needed to keep Shannon on you if you could, or hopefully wake her from this.

Shannon brushed the dust off her face and hands. “Oh, Y/N, poor little Y/N, always so quick to admit things rather prove your worth. It’s no wonder Thanos was able to manipulate you so well.” Her eyes began to change to their milky white with swirls of red. Causing the sun to disappear.

Some of Ultron’s bots had shown up and had begun to grab ahold of you but they failed to do so.

“Shannon, no!” you screamed, lunging at her to knock the sense out of her. “Don’t!” you said, not thinking, only reacting. Your hand went to her head, all of your energy electrifying her scalp. At first, a scream ripped from her throat, causing Loki and Tony to both look your way. But then her senses overcame your power.

“You think your little shocks will stop me!? It’ll have to take much more than that.” She changed shape becoming Loki. “Love, please don’t hurt me.” His voice came out of her mouth, she laughed watching your expression change.

You knew it was a trick. She transformed in front of your very eyes. You could see your real mate across the field. Tears formed in your eyes. But Loki or Shannon, you couldn’t hurt the person standing in front of you. You took a deep breath and stood up, relaxing your shoulders.

“You’re right, Shannon. It is going to take a lot more to defeat you. And I don’t have it in me. So you’ll have to kill me. I’m not going to fight you.” You let down all of your guards, all of your defenses, going against every survival skill you’d picked up throughout your entire fucked up life. You couldn’t hurt or kill Shannon. Your power against hers, maybe you could slow her down, maybe you were a match for her -- but you didn’t want to be. Hurting her was not worth it.

“You’re no fun. Let’s kick things up a notch. If you won’t fight me like this, then let’s see if you will for the sake of his life.” She pointed to Loki as he was lifted up into the air by multiple bots. Shannon turned to him and was charging up her hands with electricity and there was black and red swirling smoke surrounding her. “Will you save his precious life, or will you stop me for the sake of making a good impression on the team?” Her hands began to close and Loki struggled to move and breathe. She was crushing his windpipe with the smoke.

As much as you wanted to fight it, you wanted to hold her off and save him, your brainwashing was still in there. All it took was the pained look on Loki’s face to fully trigger you. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath, and when you opened them, a white purple glowed inside them.

You ran and hurtled over Shannon’s head, standing in front of her and blasting her back with your powers nearly at full capacity - dark energy and electricity slammed into her. The shock alone could’ve made her heart burst. The blast was enough to get her to let Loki go, but the bots still had him. You spun quickly, casting your energy to them, ripping them apart piece by piece, finally forcing him to fall to the ground. You ran to him, checking on him. He was gasping for breath. You knew Shannon wouldn’t be down for long so you looked back to where she was getting up.

Shannon took that moment that you were distracted to let Ultron know she could grab her. She saw you turn over to look at her but at that moment you were met with Ultron standing in front of you. He grabbed you by the neck and pulled you up and had her facing Shannon. “Now to end this at once. Finish her,” he commanded Shannon.

“With pleasure.” She got up and pulled out a gun from her thigh holster. “If you’d just fought me like you should have, your death would have been different.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Not everyone is made to be a hero, some are just martyrs.” She aimed the gun right between your eyebrows.

Just as she was about to squeeze the trigger, Loki manifested a dagger, flinging it towards Shannon. It only nicked her arm though, because Steve charged at her and slammed her into the ground.

“Banner! I need some help over here!” he shouted.

“Let me go!” Shannon screamed shocking the captain but it did nothing. “You can’t stop me. I will kill her!” She began letting her powers take control but they were no use, the shocks did nothing to him and she couldn’t take anything from him.

You electrified Ultron before slamming a spike you manifested into his cheek. He jumped back, letting you go.

“Steve, no,” you said. “I’m not worth it. Go save the civilians. Fight Ultron. Save the world,” you insisted as he struggled with Shannon. “I can hold her off,” you assured. But you weren’t sure, at all. Shannon playing fair - yes, she was a match for you. Red Room Triggered Shannon? Not so much. That Shannon had a no holds bar attitude, and could very well kill you.

All she could think of was changing into Peggy. “Steve, you’re hurting me, you promised to keep me safe.” She had tears running down her cheek.

It was enough for him to let go in fear that he had hurt her. Shannon took his shield and powered it up with enough volts to kill a pod of whales and threw it at him. He was thrown into Thor’s way.

“Looks like he can’t stop me now. Better run, little Y/N.” Her hands had swirls of fire that kept growing higher up her arms. “Fight me once and for all! Show me everything you’ve got!”

You raised your fists, letting out a breath of air. Just as you were about to unleash fury on her, Hulk came charging up, and grabbed her in his giant hands, pinning her to the ground. You ran up near him, your hands ready. “If I put any power into her, she’ll just use it on you,” you informed, standing beside Hulk. Your eyes scanned quickly for Ultron, but he was back, preoccupied with the rest of the team. At least you had that.

She was screaming, fighting Hulk. You knew he was powerful, but even Shannon could kick things up to the point of getting him off of her. You’d never done this before but you decided to aim your powers in a different manner. The energy trickled from your fingertips calmly into her head, slowly making her vision, hearing, and smell go, disabling her.

Shannon struggled to get the giant hand to let go, he seemed to flinch at the waves of electricity but she seemed to have lost the ability to keep shocking him. Frustrated, she tried her other powers but none of them worked. She tried looking around but her vision had disappeared as had her other senses. She stopped moving for a bit and stood completely still almost as if she’d become unconscious. Seeing her limp form in his hand, Hulk stopped squeezing too tightly, fearing that if he had hurt her too much the doctor would get mad at him.

“Boss, your wife’s vitals have dropped some and she’s gone unconscious,” FRIDAY told Tony inside his suit. He stopped everything he was doing and spun in the air to check on her. “She’ll be fine, but we gotta get Ultron or she won’t be.”

“Right,” he agreed, as much as he didn’t want to leave her. Ultron had sicced all of his bots on the team now, they were scattered, but now it appeared the core was the main objective. The city was already floating, and the team was working hard to figure out how to keep it from exploding and ending the world. There were boats loading the leftover citizens. Now that Shannon had appeared unconscious, you focused your energy elsewhere, deciding to help the team.

“Are you alright?” Loki asked, a bad bruise forming on his cheek.

“As soon as this piece of shit Terminator is dead,” you grumbled before ripping apart a few bots. Your sights set on the big man himself. “Keep him distracted,” you said before slinking off to go around the back of him. “Vision, keep him talking,” you instructed into the comms. Vision did just that, he kept him busy, kept him focused. While you snuck up behind him and began electrocuting him. He reached onto his back and flung you off, slamming you into a brick column. You groaned in pain but stood up.

Vision attacked him with his mind stone, casting a beam at him, while Tony hit him with the repulsors, and Thor lit him up with his lightning. You hobbled your way over to stand beside them, letting your dark energy and electricity pour out of you like a rushing river. His body began to heat up, and you could tell he was melting from the inside as you cried out in pain of trying to keep your power going at this level.

Finally, his form exploded -- but it wasn’t over yet. The bots were still coming. Wanda was manning the core, while the rest of the Avengers got people to boats to safety. You wanted to help, but currently, you were on the ground, panting.

A bot came up, one that Wanda didn’t see, because she was distracted by Pietro getting shot in the shoulder. He wasn’t hurt fatally, but at first she couldn’t tell. You raised your arm to fight him, but you were too weak, and he got to the core.

“No! Wanda!” you weakly shouted and she spun, killing it too late. The core was activated now.

You turned your head to Hulk, immediately. “Hulk, carrier, now! Wanda, get your brother and get out!” you shouted, using all your strength to get up. Hulk nodded and wasted no time picking Shannon up and launching onto a nearby carrier. Wanda ran off to find Pietro, and from what you could see, they made it onto a boat. Loki was already on a safety boat, you could see him from where you were at. A look of terror crossed his face as he realized you were still on the flying city.

“Steve, Clint, you two on a boat?” you asked weakly into the comms, out of breath.

“Yeah, where the hell are you?” Clint asked back.

“Just make sure Tony gets away from here,” you replied. “I’m finishing this.”

You stood up and killed the bot. Ultron wasn’t dead. He still had something out there driving that thing. You narrowed your eyes, about to fly off when suddenly the ground shook beneath you and opened up, causing you to fall in. A scream escaped your throat, you couldn’t help it. You were free falling between ground, rock, roots, and now, you hit the open sky. There wasn’t enough energy for you to fly, so you closed your eyes, waiting for impact - surprised when you were suddenly in someone’s arms.

In shock, you opened your eyes to find Vision.

“Vision?” you breathed. “But what--”

“I’ll find Ultron. Mr. Stark’s instructions were clear -- keep you alive.”

All you could do was frown, but he lowered you onto a boat, next to Hulk who was slowly turning back into Banner.

You took a deep breath, looking around at the Avengers, Shannon… They were safe. The people were safe...Loki was safe… that’s all that mattered.

The boats got onto the helicarrier, and the Avengers gathered around Shannon, who was still knocked out. At this point, you were terrified you’d done something wrong. You’d never disabled anyone like that with your powers and weren’t sure you’d done it right or safely.

Slowly, she opened her eyes, wincing at the sudden sunlight. All eyes were on her as she gasped and sat up.

“Gahh! What happened tell me? I didn't kill anyone, did I?” Shannon looked around, she was afraid that she’d hurt anyone, especially from the team. “Don’t come near me. I’m not sure I’m stable enough to be in contact with anyone.” She started scooching back and hit the back of a seat.

Tony, obviously worried about his wife, rushed to her and was looking everywhere for visible signs or injury. “Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself in any way?” He started grabbing her hands.

“No! Don’t touch me,” she shrieked, yanking her hands away. “Please don’t come near me. I don’t want to hurt you.” She hugged her knees to herself.

“Shan,” you tried, kneeling, getting on her level. “It’s alright. You won’t hurt us. You’re not activated any more. You’d never do anything to us,” you assured, giving her a warm smile, trying to scoot closer.

“I don’t know that, none of us do. I can still feel it’s inside me.” Her hands shook as she tried to move her hair from her face. “I just need to be alone. If I need anyone Stevie can help.” She looked over at Steve pleading with her eyes.

“I’ll do whatever you need, doll,” he assured with a slight shrug. “Just say the word.”

“Thank you, Stevie. For now I’ll just go rest.” Shannon got up or tried to get up but she was too weak.

“Here, I’ll give you a hand.” Bruce went to help her get up. “Let’s get you to one of the seats.” He took her to her seat.

“Thank you, Bruce, I’ll get some sleep.” She buckled in her seatbelt. “Can I have some painkillers?”

“Sure thing.”

You glanced to Tony as you stood up, worry on your face. He thrust his head over his shoulder to signal he wanted to talk away from everyone. The two of you stepped far out of hearing distance.

“I had no idea she still had that shit in her. That protocol. Those… That trigger.” Tony shook his head, no doubt blaming himself.

“I didn’t either. I thought SHIELD got that out,” you mentioned. ‘What do we do? Tony, she looks like a wounded animal,” you said, pity in your voice. “She’s terrified to even look at us.”

“I know,” he noted before chewing on his lip, watching his bride. “What do you say we take her back to the X-Men? They were making some headway before, right?” he asked.

“Yeah. Her powers are still killing her,” you reminded. “Every time she uses them, and she just let a canon loose,” you remarked. “She needs to be healed.”

He nodded. “Yeah, no, you’re right. We’ll get the rest of the team back to the tower and then I’ll take her to the mansion.”

“We both will,” you asserted softly. “You’ll need to bring Bruce too,” you said.

“Banner? Why?”

“He comforts her. He’s been her primary care doctor. If you’re going to take Shannon there, she’s going to want Bruce by her side too,” you stated matter-of-factly.

“Okay, you, me, Banner, and Shannon will go to the mansion,” he corrected, with a bit of an eye roll.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag List: @essie1876 @magpiegirl80 @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @iamwarrenspeace @marvel-imagines-yes-please @superwholocked527 @missinstantgratification @thejemersoninferno @rda1989 @munlis @thefridgeismybestie @bubblyanarocks3 @igiveupicantthinkofausername @kaliforniacoastalteens @feelmyroarrrr @kaelingoat-blog @friendlyneighbourhoodweirdo @damalseer @heyitscam99 @yknott81 @sorryimacrapwriter @glitterquadricorn @xxqueenofisolationxx @little-dis-kaalista-pythonissama @bittersweetunicorm @alyssaj23 @sea040561 @princess76179 @thisismysecrethappyplace @sarahp879 @malfoysqueen14 @ellallheart @breezy1415 @marvelmayo @random-fluffy-pink-unicorn @cocosierra94 @hardcollectionworldtrash @capsmuscles @marvelloushamilton @paintballkid711

Loki: @lostinspace33 @ultrarebelheart @lenawiinchester @esoltis280 @tngrayson @wangdeasang @harrymewmew @jayfantasyatyourservice

UC: @lokis-high-priestess

#unforeseen chasm #loki x reader #loki fic #Loki Laufeyson #tony stark x ofc #tony stark #tony stark fic #bruce banner #clint barton #natasha romanoff #steve rogers #vision #ultron #the maximoff twins

24 notes · View notes

let-me-love-you-loki · 4 years

Text

An Ending Within--Ch. 7

A/N: This takes place at Revolution, with a small set of details changed.

Chapter 7

Heart pounding. A desperate rush of adrenaline into my veins. Deep breaths. My first showing with the Inner Circle. And it was on a pay-per-view. I bounced, working warmth into my limbs, rolling my shoulders. This was the moment that would make that debut worthwhile.

I dressed in my gear—Daisy Duke style denim shorts over dark tights and fishnet stockings, a tight zippered camo top, and combat boots—and made sure that my makeup and hair was done. That was something different about AEW that I liked, most of the time. I could control my look. Sure, I had to go heavy handed for the cameras, but I didn’t have to deal with horrible makeup ideas that made me look stupid.

The one thing I hated was that I had to pay to keep my hair done these days. The red had faded more than I liked, but Leva Bates had taken to helping me out with it.

Jericho stepped up nearby, bandana on. His jacket was studded with two-inch long spikes. I was pretty sure it was the same one that he’d used to put Jon’s eye out. Santana and Ortiz were just behind him—Santana with a bandana over his face and dark sunglasses—with Hager and Sammy not far away. The latter looked me up and down with a smirk.

“Looking good, Black.” Sammy said nastily.

I smirked. “Try something, Guevara, and see what happens.”

Jericho grinned and made sure that his AEW championship was tight around his waist. I grinned as I pulled on a pair of fingerless gloves. “Keep it in your pants, Sammy. She’ll kick your ass before you can blink.”

Before he could say anything else, music swelled through the arena. Jon’s entrance began and I could hear the pop for him when he appeared out of the crowd. I watched Jericho’s mouth turn down at the sound of people screaming for his opponent.

There was a sudden quiet and a choir began singing. I rolled my eyes at the pure drama of it. Jericho had gotten himself an entire church style choir to sing his theme, even though he knew his version would play before we walked out.

“Big Hurt, Sammy, you know your jobs. Don’t let me down.” Jericho turned toward me. “And you know what you’re supposed to do.”

“Of course I do, Chris. And we’re going to make it look perfect.”

***

There were only three of us at ringside—me, Santana, and Ortiz. Jon and Jericho were fighting like caged animals in the ring, doing their best to destroy one another. Every time Jon caught sight of me, I smirked and stayed in his line of vision. It was enough of a distraction that Jericho could get a few good shots in every now and then.

About halfway through the match, Jericho had Jon tight in the Walls of Jericho right in the middle of the ring. I paced outside the ring watching the whole thing, keeping my eye on where Aubrey was, waiting for the moment when I could make a move.

It happened when Jon was caught deep in the Walls of Jericho. I stood between Santana and Ortiz opposite the hard camera, leaning on the apron. Jericho was facing away from us, which made Jon have to look square at me.

I pressed my palms against the apron and started beating out a rhythm, yelling into his anguished face. “C’mon, Jon! C’mon… you’re almost there!”

There was a flicker of something like hope in his visible blue eye. As if he thought all of this had been a mistake or a ruse to trick Jericho. I wrapped my fists around the bottom rope and pushed it toward him, cutting off a few inches he would need to crawl to break the hold. Santana kept an eye on Aubrey, snatching at her foot to distract her when she started paying too much attention to where I was.

Jon crawled along the canvas, reaching out for the rope I’d pushed toward him. As soon as he got within grasping distance, I smirked, put my foot up against the apron and pulled the rope back as far as I could.

Unfortunately, Aubrey saw me. She slipped between the bottom and middle ropes and started railing at me, waving her finger in my face. I let go of the rope and stepped back, both hands up over my head. I backed all the way into the security rail and laughed, even thought people in the first row were shouting horrible things at me.

That was when I knew I’d done a good job… that they were starting to believe that I was a heel. And fucking over Jon Moxley seemed to be a good way to get on the fans’ bad side.

Jericho wasn’t happy. I could hear him shouting and cursing as he paced the ring. He pushed and crowded Aubrey toward the ropes, getting in her face. I knew this part of the plan. If it looked like he was going to lose… he had to get disqualified. By any means necessary.

Aubrey looked him over after he pushed her hard enough to make her stumble. Santana and Ortiz grabbed Jon by the ankles and started dragging him toward the apron, but he kicked free and got to his feet.

Just in time to get a glimpse of Jake Hager before getting sucker punched right in the face. It was a beautiful blow that knocked Jon clear on his ass.

Unfortunately, Aubrey saw it. The four of us—Santana, Ortiz, myself, and Hager—we stood ringside looking as innocent as we could. All of us with our hands up, shouting false pleas that we’d done nothing wrong. She pointed at each of us in turn. Santana and Ortiz climbed onto the apron, cursing and begging.

Aubrey wound up… and tossed all four of us from ringside. I let out a scream of frustration and beat the apron with my fists. My fellow Inner Circle members stood on the ramp, Aubrey leaning over the ropes to yell at them. Somehow, for an instant, she’d forgotten I was there. She climbed through, getting up into Hager’s face.

I looked back toward the audience, grinning as I saw Sammy Guevara running up and vaulting the railing. Rolling my eyes at his choice of attire, I slid into the ring. Jon was down on his knees, still reeling from Hager’s punch. In an instant, Sammy had snatched up Jericho’s title and tossed it into the ring. I snatched it up and hit Jon square in the chin with a running lariat, title in hand.

Rolling under the ropes, I tossed the belt back to Sammy, who hurriedly jammed it back on the ringside table. Together, he and I jumped the security railing and took off running toward the concourse. Fans yelled and booed as we ran by. I couldn’t stop laughing.

Security met us at the concourse entrance and guided us around to the backstage area. Once we were safely out of view, I ran to the nearest monitor and crowded up into the Elite, all of whom were watching the match with interest.

“Budge up, Hangman. Make some room,” I said, elbowing Adam Page out of the way. He chuckled and scooted a steel chair behind him for me to stand on. Grinning, I leaned over, forearms digging into his and Kenny’s shoulders for balance.

The match continued on. Blood dripped down Jon’s face from the shot he’d taken to the ring post early in the match. Jericho hammered his left side with punches and forearms. Just as it seemed Jon was going to hit him with the Paradigm Shift, Jericho went for his good eye.

“You son of a bitch!” I shouted at the monitor, blood boiling.

“You say that better than Kenny,” Nick called from the end of the row.

“Fuck off, Jackson,” Kenny retorted playfully.

“Hey, fellas. There’s a lady present!” Hangman declared, looking slightly concerned.

“You can mind your goddamn business, Page,” I snapped back even though there was a wide grin on my face. The cowboy laughed and shrugged, almost causing me to lose my balance.

Jon hobbled around the ring, trying his best to find Jericho. Jericho taunted him, keeping just out of reach of the clubbing blows that Jon could deliver. For a moment, it looked like Jericho was going to be able to deliver the Judas Effect. He ran at Jon, who was struggling to get to his feet. In an explosion of movement, Jon burst at Jericho and hit him hard with a sloppy sort of Paradigm Shift.

Smirking like the devil, he lifted the patch off to reveal a perfectly healed eye. I squealed at the pop that rattled the roof. Jon turned just as Jericho ran at him. One kick to the gut and an elevated Paradigm Shift later, Aubrey hit the one… two… three…

“Hell yes,” I shouted, popping up so fast that I wobbled on the chair. I let out a yelp as I tipped, slipping sideways.

Before my body slammed into the concrete, I landed in a tangle of cradling limbs. The Bucks grinned as they set me on my feet. “Watch yourself,” Nick said laughing.

I smacked him on the shoulder. “Thanks, Jackson,” I said, wriggling past him to stand in front of the monitor. Jon was in the ring, his title in his hands, talking and celebrating and cussing. He was grinning in a way that I hadn’t seen in a long time. I wanted desperately to go down to the ring to and help him celebrate.

Jericho came charging through the curtain into the backstage area. He glared the moment he laid eyes on me. “What did I tell you about that Elite trash, Black?”

I rolled my eyes and peeked around Nick’s shoulder. “From where I’m standing, they’re the ones with gold. You just got your ass kicked.”

“Because you couldn’t do your job! Don’t think about screwing me over. If you think you’re going to cost me my title and then run back to Moxley, you’re either an idiot or a moron.”

My blood burned. I pushed past Nick and shrugged off Matt’s searching hand. I stalked up to Jericho and stared him down, even though I had to look up at him. “Chris, do us both a favor and shut your mouth. And go fuck yourself.”

I flipped him off and shoved Sammy out of my way. From behind me, I could hear Matt and Nick laughing. I ignored them all and made my way to Jon’s dressing room to say congratulations.

On the way, I stopped and grabbed my phone from the female talent locker room. There was a message on it from Seth. I opened it to find a picture of him, Sefina in his lap, Kevin curled up beside him. Another came in just after… a snapshot of the TV in the living room paused at the exact moment I’d clocked Jon in the face with the belt.

Nice shot! And I LOVE that gear on you.

I grinned like a fool, glad that I’d changed my mind on wearing my Inner Circle shirt.

“Dollface!” I turned at the sound of Jon’s voice. He was beaming, the title draped over his shoulder, as he ran down the hall and swept me in his arms. Jon was sweaty and still oozing blood from the cut over his eye. “Did you have to hit me that fucking hard?”

Tag List

@mox-made-me-do-it @lakamaa12 @sammyfireheartashryver @cburdine @easyobsession @xbutterflius-effectusx @0paint-the-stars0 @echrai @themumbler @bigdunneenergy @queenofthearchitect @vebner37 @reigns-rollins-ambrose @mother-forker @gwyneirastorm

23 notes · View notes

nemossubmarine · 3 years

Text

Warhammer 40k: Wrath & Glory RP #14

Our heroes leave the station and head to Treshan. Izarak says they should pop by his village, as the villagers would certainly have seen people pass by, it is such a rare occurrence. So that’s where they head. The village consists of few houses and a church. An old man by the name of Iosif comes to greet them, hugging Izarak and immediately trying to sell his daughter’s hand in marriage to Coco and / or Larry. Izarak explains that they’re looking for someone, and Iosif mentions that a party started a pilgrimage to a shrine in the mountain, using one of the villagers as a guide. It seems likely that this is Ada and co.

Iosif explains that the shrine hasn’t been in use for several generations, in fact he’s not sure if it still stands. As the party expresses interest in going to the shrine, Iosif starts getting some equipment for them. This includes ropes, bells (for bears), woolly socks and hats and a map of the pilgrim route. Larry and Alice notice a small plateau about 2/3rds up the mountain, where they could potentially cut off Ada. They thank Iosif for the equipment, and Iosif tries to offer his daughter for Alice. Alice thanks for the offer, but says that if his daughter doesn’t want to be a shepherd, he shouldn’t force it. Emperor willing, he’ll find someone to look after the sheep.

Izarak says he needs to get some things from his house before they leave so heads there. [INSERT #1] The others find Ferrus hanging around the ship. He asks what’s happening, and they inform him of the shrine where Ada seems to be heading. Alice and Larry excuse himself, which leaves Coco with Ferrus. Coco jokingly suggests that he marry the shepherd’s daughter, to which Ferrus mentions that he’s quite gay. And Navigators are supposed to marry other Navigators anyway. Coco asks after his family, and when she learns he is not with them, she asks if he misses them, which clearly takes Ferrus by surprise. He apparently isn’t in good terms with his family. They talk a bit more, Ferrus making a mention that he isn’t used to gravity, mostly working on ships. Coco also learns more about the conflict between him and the Captain: apparently she had a tight schedule that Ferrus was unable to keep, preferring to stay alive instead. Izarak eventually joins the two and they head out.

The plateau that Larry and Alice spotted is quite small, but Larry manages to land there. It is a small field littered with stones that upon closer inspection turn out to be grave markers. There’s no sign that Ada has been here yet. Larry suggests they should go to the shrine before them, as that’s where they’re heading anyway. This seems like an agreeable plan to everyone. Ferrus voices some doubts about mountain climbing. Coco says it should be an adventure, a new experience. Ferrus agrees, proceeding to rummage through his backpack (Larry and Coco both also peek into his belongings), and sticking a stimm needle into himself. Larry asks if there’s any medical stuff about Ferrus that they should know. Ferrus says he has a punctured lung due to an “incident”, so he drugs himself to stay upright. He’s working on getting someone to give him a replacement. Alice offers to take Ferrus’ bag, which he hands over, thankful.

They head out, while Brakes McGee flies the ship away, keeping it within vox distance. They go through a cave first which has some bats, then they climb up a small path. Izarak is clearly struggling the most with his long robes. There’s some strange noises in the area, Coco thinks it’s a bear, but to Larry it sounds more like rocks grinding against each other. He sneaks forward a bit and notices some boulders atop their path, looking like they could fall over. They debate whether to just sneak by, but Ada is coming here later, so they decide better have them fall. Larry tosses a rock causing a small landslide. Lilith takes the lead in crossing the path, being surprisingly graceful in her movements. Coco manages to make it past, but Izarak nearly falls to his death. Alice pulls him to safety, but the noise attracts a bear that charges Coco and Lilith. Coco gets a shot in, but the bear reaches her and mauls her. From the other side, Larry shoots at the bear, but it remains on top of Coco. Ferrus asks Alice to get him close to the bear, which Alice does. Ferrus then orders everyone to close their eyes. When they reopen them, the bear has died, on top of Coco.

Alice gets herself and Ferrus to the other side, then helps Izarak across (he still has troubles) and then lifts the bear off Coco. Larry comments on Ferrus’ party trick, and Ferrus says he can’t do it very often. Indeed his face is soaked with blood. Izarak offers him a rag to wipe his face, and bandages Coco.

They continue forward, keeping an eye out for bears. Alice hears some singing coming from below them, perhaps Ada and the pilgrims? It sounds like there’s quite many of them. After a few hours they reach their final leg before the shrine, which is a sheer cliff. Ferrus requests a breather. Larry takes Alice aside for a smoke. [Insert #2]

Coco sits down next to Ferrus and Ferrus asks if she’s alright. She says she’s fine, first time meeting a bear this close. Ferrus makes a comment about adventures. She asks if he’s fine, the bleeding from the face looked quite intense. Ferrus says it has nothing to do with his lung problems, and more to do with 10,000 years of inbreeding among the Navigators. She questions him more about the lung replacement, and he says that he has had some trouble finding willing tech-priests as even an accidental killing of a Navigator is an offense punishable by death, a risk not many will be willing to take. She wishes him best of luck in that, and Larry and Alice joining them agree.

It’s time to continue. Lilith offers to climb up the cliff and then drop the rope for them to climb up. This is agreeable to the party, as Lilith is by far the greatest climber of them. She climbs up, and promptly bolts off, leaving the party stranded. Something they maybe should have seen coming. Alice climbs up after Lilith. She drops a rope, and then bolts off after Lilith.

The others take some time to climb after the two women, but finally they too get up. The shrine itself is a small rock building. Upon entering, their noses are assaulted by a smell of mold. The whole shrine is covered in mold, and there are mushrooms growing on lumps on the ground, that look eerily like there had been bodies there. There is an entrance on the floor of the shrine, which the party drops down in. They come to a metal corridor.

They meet up at Alice at the end of the corridor. She lost sight of Lilith, and didn’t want to get too far away, because of the mold. They all put on their breather-masks and head deeper. They come to a large room with a dome ceiling. The whole place is covered in mold, and similar mushroom-spots. Coco recognizes some of the markings barely visible as being eldar in nature.

There is a strange statue in the middle of the room, an armored figure kneeling, pierced by a weapon, its face frozen in an anguished scream, also covered in mushrooms. Izarak and Larry approach it to investigate and pretty quickly realize it’s not a statue at all. It is a man, in the red power armour of the Blood Angels, a golden death mask on his face. Izarak realizes one another thing. The man is still alive.

#nemo roleplays #long post #wag rp s2 #wag rp writeup #campaign tag: the story of a runaway girl #reminder to myself to make some maps #and also finally name the campaigns it's been so long #next week should be relatively chill #have lit nothing until friday have to be at work present #need to make a list of all the stuff for next session #but now i think ill paint for a bit #and then go sleep #oh almost forgot #obligatory dunduduu

1 note · View note

spine-buster · 5 years

Text

Alone, Together | Chapter 23 | Morgan Rielly

A/N: It’s Morgan’s birthday. I’m not even gonna bother with church jokes.

Morgan got home in the middle of the night, technically in the morning of Sunday, March 10th, after a west coast road trip that saw him open the scoring in both Vancouver (which they lost in OT), and Edmonton (which they won 3-2). After a whirlwind trip of celebrating his birthday early with his family in Vancouver, celebrating with the team on Friday night, then winning the game Saturday night, he barely remembered walking through his apartment door and climbing into bed to fall asleep.

It was no wonder, then, that when he began to feel something rubbing against his thigh, he was unsure of what it was. Perhaps it was a dream, perhaps it was his own thoughts playing tricks on him, like they had so many times before when he was away from Bee’s warm body and had to settle for the cold bed in a nice hotel. But when the friction didn’t stop, giving way to a certain wetness on his thigh, somehow Morgan’s brain clicked. It took him a long time to wake up in the mornings, but his girlfriend trying to get off on his thigh would definitely wake him up.

“Briony?” he mumbled groggily, his voice sounding like gravel.

“Are y’awake?” her voice was equally as groggy and tired as his. Morgan came to the quick, half-woken conclusion that the grinding was almost subliminal on her part, which made this whole situation even better. She was grinding against his thigh and she didn’t even know. She didn’t even know. Was she doing it subconsciously? Had she thought about doing it before and never brought it up? And that’s why she was doing it now?

“What’re you doing, baby?” he asked as she continued her movements lazily. “Are you trying to ride my thigh?”

She whimpered loudly as he verbalized what she was doing, trying to get even closer to him. “It feels so good. I just wanna…I’m so…”

He pushed the covers off their bodies lazily so they bunched up just below his knees. On instinct, it seemed, he moved on to his back and Bee followed him, straddling the thigh she was rubbing on. She continued grinding against it, her unkempt hair falling over her face and shoulders. It was then that he noticed what she was wearing: an old Leafs t-shirt of his – like, super old, from back in his first years where he wasn’t built like a fridge – that was tight against her body, her breasts stretching the chest and her nipples perky through the material. She’d worn his clothes before and he had always found it a turn on, but for some reason, the way she looked now, with her hair everywhere and the tightness of the shirt and the lip biting as she grinded down on his thigh, he didn’t think she’d ever looked hotter in one of his t-shirts.

“You’re wearing my shirt,” he said, his hands trailing underneath the cotton slightly.

“Yeah,” she answered absent-mindedly, clearly focused on far better things, her hips moving smoothly like waves.

“Cause you missed me?”

She nodded her head, guiding her eyes to look down at him. He could feel his thigh getting wetter. He wondered how long it had been going on for before he’d woken up. “I missed having your body next to mine as I slept. I wanted something that reminded me of you.”

“Did it?”

She nodded her head again. “It smelled like your old cologne. Like pine,” she put her hands on his chest as leverage so she could continue rocking herself back and forth. “So it reminded me of that night after the Marleau’s Christmas party. So I started touching myself.”

He groaned at her in response. As if her actions weren’t getting him hard, now the thought of that night was definitely helping. “Oh yeah?”

She bit her lip. “I started to think about you eating me out. You pulling my hair,” she slapped away his hand that tried to start rubbing at her clit. “I started to think about you spanking me. Being your good girl.”

“Fuuuuck,” he moaned at the memory.

“I couldn’t help myself,” she mewled out. She was using that tone she knew drove him crazy. “And then I came but it’s not the same as when you bury your cock inside of me. Or when you eat my pussy because you love it so much.”

“Get up here,” he growled, unable to wait any longer as he grabbed hold of her hips and shoved her towards him and over his face. He knew because of how long it took him to wake up there was no way he’d be hard enough yet, but if that meant he got to do what he loved to do so much, then so be it.

He wasted no time in burying his face in her pussy, lapping at her lips and sucking at her clit lazily, making her moan out loudly and tug on his hair. The sensation of waking up by rubbing herself against his thigh and then letting him eat her out as she sat on his face was something she could definitely get used to. “Mooorrrrgggaaaannn…it feels s’good,” she breathed out.

He brought his arms up and laid them flat on her thighs, keeping her down so she had no choice but to grind on his face. His hands snaked themselves under the material of her t-shirt to caress her breasts, squeezing and pinching at her nipples, garnering more moans from her as she brought her own hands towards her chest and placed them over Morgan’s.

“Taste good, baby?” she asked, her voice still laced with sleep.

“Tastes so sweet,” he mumbled against her. “Always so sweet. Just for me.”

He kept going for so long she was sure he was going to get lockjaw, or, like, lack of oxygen to his brain. She didn’t know how long he was down there for, but because this was morning sex, the kind of sex where the both of them liked to take their time, liked to be lazy with their movements, liked to be slow about everything, she figured it had been a while. Her body felt so hot, flush with pink everywhere, and she stripped off her top, throwing it across the room. She proceeded to look back to check if Morgan was hard, only to see that he was practically throbbing. She bent backwards slightly, stretching her arm back to grab his cock and pump it a few times. “Baby…baby I wanna ride you.”

He mumbled something into her pussy and she had no clue what he said, but the vibrations of the sound against her clit sent it throbbing. “What?”

“I want you to come first,” he said more clearly.

“Mo…” she tried to bargain, placing her hands on his arms that were still holdings her hips down to try to pry them away. It was his birthday after all; he was the one supposed to be getting spoiled here. “Mo…c’mon. I wanna ride your cock.”

“You need to come first,” he repeated, not giving an inch. Who was she kidding? This was Morgan. If she didn’t come he’d see it as a complete failure. Even on his fucking birthday. “Come all over my face, then you can ride me. C’mon baby.”

There was no point in fighting him; none at all. So Bee grabbed at his hair again and grinded hard onto his face and soon enough, she was a screaming, wailing mess, soaking his face as he lapped up her juices hungrily, her orgasm ravaging her whole body as it made her shake.

“Mmm, sweet like honey,” he mumbled as he finally let up, letting his arms that were holding her down free.

Bee moved down his body and grabbed hold of his cock, teasing him as she rubbed it against her entrance. She bent down and kissed his face, tasting herself on his lips as she finally lowered herself on to him, stretching her completely. They both let out groans as he bottomed out. “Oooooh fuck, baby,” Bee sighed as she revelled in the feeling. It never got old. It could be thirteen days, it could be three days, it could be three hours – it didn’t matter. “Fuck baby, I love your cock so fucking much.”

“Yeah?”

“I love how you fill me up,” she moaned as she began to rock back and forth slowly. “Nobody fills me up like you do. Only your big cock.”

“Babyyyyy,” he groaned, grabbing at the flesh on her hips. “Fuuuck, baby, keep riding me. That feel good?”

“Feels so fucking good,” she bit her lip, putting her hands on his chest again as leverage.

“That’s a good girl,” he said, guiding her back and forth with his big hands. “You like being a good girl for me?” he asked, to which she nodded her head. He pulled her down so her chest was flush with his and he began pumping into her, making her cry out in pleasure. That didn’t last long until he flipped them so they were on their sides in a spooning position, Bee wrapped in his arms with her leg hooked over his – much how they started the morning, except now he was buried deep in her, and she was crying out his name instead of subconsciously grinding her wet pussy against his thigh.

They stayed in that position for a while, kissing each other, Morgan squeezing Bee’s breast, Bee running her nails down Morgan’s back, gazing into each other’s eyes every so often. When he dipped a hand in between their bodies to rub at her clit and saw Bee bite her lip, he gave her a loving kiss before staring at her again. “I love you, Briony.”

“I love you too, Morgan.”

“I love you so much baby. You’re my world,” he meant every word.

“I love you more than anything,” Bee said back.

Bee felt him explode in her, filling her with his hot cum as her walls clenched around him, her body shaking again from yet another orgasm. His hand continued to rub circles against her clit until she reached down to stop him. When he felt himself become soft, he pulled out of her slowly, only to have Bee whimper at the loss. He immediately replaced it with his hand, playing softly with her lips and letting his fingers bathe in the wetness.

They kissed each other a few times before Bee smiled. “Happy birthday baby.” she whispered.

***

After showering and dancing and singing around the kitchen to 80s music while Bee made chocolate chip pancakes, bacon, and fruit salad for brunch, they finally settled down to eat. If any day was a cheat day, it was definitely your birthday, and Morgan’s eyes rolled back as he took his first bite of chocolate chip pancakes. They rolled even further back when he devoured his first strip of bacon, fried perfectly to the chewiness yet crispiness that he loved. He hadn’t had a bacon strip in months because of “You should have a hockey season diet, Mo” and “Get lean to get mean, Mo” and “Have John’s kale and turkey scramble instead of a bacon cheeseburger, Mo”. Who the fuck eats a kale and turkey scramble as a cheat meal? Not Morgan. John was a psychopath that way.

“So what are we doing today?” Bee asked as she sliced a triangle out of her stack of pancakes. She’d already told them, when they were planning what to do, that it was all up to him. He got to choose; she’d willingly participate. He had a few weeks to think about it.

“Can’t I just eat you out all day?” Morgan asked slyly.

Bee kicked him underneath the table. “It’s your birthday! You’re a quarter of a century old!”

“Thank you for the polite reminder. Not like I don’t feel old already.”

“There must be something you want to do? Outside?” she stressed, giggling slightly. “You know, like in the streets of Toronto? Not in a bed?”

Morgan pulled a face, pretending to think hard, even bringing his hand up to his chin facetiously. He shook his head quickly. “Nah. Just be in bed with you eating you out.”

“You’re so gross,” she giggled.

“Do you want me to not?” he asked mischievously.

“Don’t spin this!” she exclaimed, giggling as she pointed her finger at him. “Come on, Morgan. Is there a coffee shop you want to check out? A new store? We can even go get ice cream and I won’t complain about getting ice cream in the cold.”

“You know…” he began, taking a small strawberry and popping it into his mouth. “There is a coffee shop I want to check out. And it’s down the street from a place that apparently makes the best churros in the city.”

“Well then, we’re going,” Bee said definitively. “We’ll head out when we’re done cleaning up and you can have as many churros as your heart desires.”

“Until I get heartburn?”

“Until you get heartburn,” she nodded her head.

After finishing their brunch and loading the plates into the dishwasher, Bee disappeared into the bedroom to “fix her hair” while Morgan put on his shoes. Except she wasn’t fixing her hair – she was getting his present. That was the one thing Morgan actually didn’t want – “No presents. I mean it. I don’t want anything.” – but she didn’t listen to him. Why would she? He was twenty-five; a quarter century; a milestone birthday. And it was the first birthday they were spending together. She had to get him something. She’d be a bad girlfriend if she didn’t.

When he heard her close the bedroom door, he finished typing up his desert boot. It was only -1°C outside – it wasn’t too cold. “You ready, Bumblebee?” he called out.

“Almost,” she called back and she scurried towards him. “Just need you to do one thing first.”

He looked towards her to see her carrying three beautifully wrapped gifts. He immediately started shaking his head. “No.”

“Morgan.”

“No. I told you no gifts.”

“Morgan!”

“Bring them back. Return them.”

“I can’t return them now can you please open them!” she said all in one breath, giggling slightly. “Come on, Morgan,” she said, holding them steady in her arms as she straddled his lap. “Come on.”

She let go of them, letting them all fall in the space between their bodies. His hands were immediately on her thighs, and he didn’t move them. “Why’d you do this?” he whispered, leaning into her.

“Because it’s your birthday,” she pecked at his lips quickly. He sighed, knowing he wasn’t going to win, so he looked down at the three gifts and picked up one of them. “No, you have to start with this one first,” she said quietly, picking up the one that was falling out of their laps. He laughed at the fact that she ordered them.

As he tore open the wrapping paper, he was giving her a look and a smirk she knew all too well. Throwing the wrapping paper to the side, he tore off the last bit before it revealed a book, Fredrik Backman’s Beartown. He smiled at her, because of course she’d get him a book. “It’s about small town hockey in Sweden,” she said. “But there’s, like, this whole scandal. You’re going to love it. Trust me.”

“I trust you,” he said, leaning in to kiss her. “Thank you Bumblebee.”

“Now this one,” she said, handing him the second gift.

It was a bigger box, almost perfectly square. He tore off the wrapping paper slowly to make sure he didn’t drop it, and when the last bit of paper was torn off, he read the packaging. Make your own mojito! The one kit to perfect mojitos!

“You’re joking,” he deadpanned, unable to hold in his laughter. Bee started laughing as well as he continued to stare at the box. “Make your own mojito? Really?”

“Hey, this all started because you sent a mojito to my table,” she winked.

He flailed his arms dramatically. “I’m not even gonna…” he said, shaking his head. He could deny it until he was blue in the face and she’d still maintain he sent the drink. “You’re a saucy little minx, Briony McTavish. We both hate mojitos. You especially.”

“Maybe if we start making them ourselves we might actually like them,” she offered, unable to keep the smile off her face.

“Well, thank you,” he shook his head, leaning forward to kiss her again. He looked down at the lone gift left. “Is this the last one? Or is there a whole drawer I don’t know about somewhere in my own damn apartment?”

“This is the last one,” she smiled. “The best one,” she handed it to him. He began to tear it open, and as it became more revealed, the more he slowed down to fully take it in. Once all the wrapping paper was off, he got a good look at it, and his breath caught in his throat.

She’d gone out and bought a matte white beveled edge picture frame – thick, about two inches wide – and had painted it. A bumblebee flew along a dotted line on the top part of the frame, and around the other three sides along the dotted line were mountains, trees, a beach, and a whale fin coming out of water. Everything they had experienced in Vancouver together. The delicately decorated frame held a picture Bee took of them as they sat on the boat and watched the sunrise. In it, Morgan had his arm around her as she cuddled into his chest. On his other side, Maggie sat staring straight at the camera, tongue out with the classic golden lab smile on her face. The sun illuminated their faces and eyes, and the colours of the sunrise could be seen in the background.

Morgan started crying. They were quiet tears, ones that escaped and fell down his cheek quickly, but once one went, the others wanted to follow. He tried bringing his hand up quickly to wipe them away, but it was no use. He couldn’t take his eyes off the picture, and the more he looked at it, the more he cried. It was a double-edged sword.

“Hey…hey,” Bee said gently as his cheeks flushed red and more tears began escaping. “Baby…” she cooed, bringing her hands up to his face to help him wipe them away. “You okay? Do you like it?”

He could only nod his head. He still couldn’t take his eyes off the photo. He found something new every second he looked at it: the richness of the green of Bee’s eyes in the morning light; how windswept his blonde hair looked; how the blanket was peeking through right at the bottom of the picture. It was perhaps the most perfect few hours of his life, and now he had it immortalized, partly, in picture. With a frame decorated by the love of his life. It automatically became his most prized possession. No $8000 watch or custom tailored suit came close. Nothing meant more to him than this.

“I love it,” he said, his voice quivering as he finally tore his eyes away from the picture to look at her. “I love it so much.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s perfect. God, you’re perfect,” he said, leaning in again to kiss her for a third time. This one lasted much longer, its tenderness too strong for them to break apart quickly. Unlike the other gifts, he didn’t place this one to his side; he leaned it against his chest, near his heart, as he brought up both hands to cradle her face. “I love you so much Briony.”

“I love you too, Morgan.”

“You have no idea,” he continued, his voice still quivering. “I meant what I said this morning. You’re my world.”

“I meant what I said too. I love you more than anything. It’s like you put the stars in my night sky, Morgan. And suddenly it isn’t so dark anymore. Everything is so bright.”

He kissed her again, slow and tender and smooth, wrapping his arms around her to pull her close. Right now, he didn’t want to go anywhere. Right now, he wanted to stay in the solitude of his apartment, with his girlfriend in his arms, and not think about the world.

***

OMG, you guys are SO. CUTE.

Should you really be eating churros? Are you really that dumb? You need to LOSE weight, not gain it sweetie.

U GUYS R GOALS OMG ILY SO MUCH CUTEST COUPLE ON THE LEAFS

Okay…y’all are adorable.

You’re still not as pretty as Cassie. You’re insecure about it and it shows.

Can’t believe Mo finally posted something with you two. Did you force him bc you’re so insecure? Or was he finally let off from his leash?

GO GET THAT BIRTHDAY DICK GIRL.

Bee got the flurry of messages, including the last one from Aryne, as she was in the washroom brushing her hair. What in the world were they talking about? What did they mean? When she unlocked her phone, she went straight to her Instagram profile, thinking somebody might have hacked her. Everything seemed normal; nothing out of the ordinary. Everything was still private. So what was it? She went to Morgan’s profile and saw that he had posted stories. Three. The first was a picture of the churro place they had gone to. The second was a picture of the coffee shop they went to afterwards. She was in the picture, her back towards the camera, in line to put in their orders. Unless these girls were private detectives, there was no way anybody could tell it was her. But the third picture was the jackpot: a picture that Morgan had taken of her while they were sitting on the bar seats at the window. She had the ceramic coffee cup at her lips, her eyes smiling for the camera. Near the bottom of the picture, their hands were resting, clasped together. The caption “Happy birthday to me” adorned on the side.

He’d posted it. He’d actually posted it.

“Morgan?!” she screamed, opening the door to the washroom to try and find him in the apartment. She didn’t have to look long – he was right there in the bedroom, standing in front of the plush chair he usually threw his clothes on, looking down at his own phone. “You posted it,” she said as more of a statement than a question, not understanding why, after all this time of not wanting to reveal anything and wanting to be so secretive, going so far as to arrive at a team event at separate times in the same taxi, he’d just post a story with a picture like that to Instagram for his 137,000 followers to see.

“We’re both in a gift giving mood today,” he said.

“Morgan.”

“Listen, this is…this is a gift to myself, really. The gift of honesty. Of knowing when I was wrong and accepting that and moving forward,” he explained, putting his phone on his armoire. She couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of his mouth. “I know you want me to…that you’ve wanted me to for a long time. And I was very protective and very hostile to the idea and I want to apologize for that. It’s just…I’m in this, Briony. For the long run. I don’t want you ever thinking I’m not. And there’s no use in hiding it anymore.”

She couldn’t believe it. She honestly couldn’t believe it. She had no words for what he had just said, for his change of mind and what he said at the end – “I’m in this.” She was speechless. Utterly speechless. So she did the only thing she thought of doing, the only thing she could do when words escaped her: she dashed over to him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders and kissed him, big and long and meaningful and all-encompassing, hoping that would suffice in showing him what words couldn’t.

“I love you Bumblebee,” he mumbled against her lips, his hands wandering underneath the material of her shirt to grab at her hips.

“I love you too Morgan,” she said, giving the tip of his nose a quick peck. “Thank you.”

“Can I show you how much I love you?”

She smiled at his request. She bit her lip and trailed her hands along his shoulders to his chest. “Not unless I get to first,” she said, pushing him down on the chair. She looked down to see him grinning like a kid in a candy store. She hooked her fingers into the lace of her underwear, turned around, and pulled them down slowly, bending over. She heard Morgan move in the chair, leaning in to grab her ass. She turned around and pushed him back into the chair, not wanting him to get too far ahead of himself. “You just sit back and relax, baby,” she said, not wasting any time in straddling his lap.

“I’m the luckiest guy in the world,” he whispered, squeezing her thighs. “I get this body all to myself. All these thighs, all these hips…”

“Maybe you should unwrap me and get all the rest,” she winked.

He chuckled from deep in his throat. “Don’t mind if I do,” he whispered, snaking his hands underneath her shirt and pushing it until it was over her head. He discarded it quickly to the side, revelling in the way her boobs looked in her bra. It wasn’t even lingerie – just a simple black bra – but he licked his lips as he did an up-down of her body. “You know, I can never decide which part of you is my favourite.”

“No?”

“Nuh-uh,” he shook his head. “Every damn inch of you is fucking delectable.” He immediately dove in to her breasts, pushing the material of her bra aside as he kissed and licked and took a nipple into his mouth. Bee threw her head back in pleasure, working to unbuckle his pants. When she was successful, she shoved them far down enough to expose his thighs, Morgan lifting his hips and wiggling out of them to help her out, before she brought her hand down and began stroking him.

“You liked it this morning when I rode on your cock?” she asked.

He grunted in response but didn’t stop with the sucking and playing with her breasts. “I liked feeling your wet pussy on my thigh,” he said quickly, licking the skin in between before focusing his attention on the other breast. “It was so fucking hot.”

Her eyebrows arched in response and she moved to straddle his thigh again. The positioning was slightly awkward, but they made it work, and when Morgan realized what she was doing, his eyes went wide. “You’re gonna fucking kill me,” he warned.

She said nothing. Instead, she maintained eye contact with him as she brought her hand up and shoved two of her fingers inside his mouth to get them wet. He sucked on them and when she was satisfied, Morgan’s eyes followed her fingers as they went down and played with her clit briefly before she started rubbing herself against his thigh again. He shook his head slightly in disbelief. “Look at you go, baby,” he said as he watched her move against him. “I want you to make yourself cum on my thigh like a good girl.”

She nodded her head. “Yes Mr. Rielly,” she breathed out.

Those three words increased his heart rate tenfold. A smirk appeared on his face as he heard them; like music to his ears. “Mmm, are we gonna start with that again, princess?”

“I want to be a good girl for you Mr. Rielly,” she said.

“You already are,” he kissed her tenderly before unhooking the back of her bra and discarding it to the side. “Keep going baby. Keep going ‘til you scream my name.”

He buried his face in her breasts again as she continued to gyrate against his thigh. When he felt her arm come up so her fingers could rub at her clit, it was him who smacked the hand away this time, like she’d done to him that morning, and she realized he wanted her to go long and hard against him before she finally came. So she arched her back, brought her body and her breasts closer to him, and played with the hair at the nape of his neck.

Bee continued her movements for a while, feeling herself getting hotter and wetter with every minute. Eventually, she yanked at Morgan’s hair, pulling him away from her breasts so she could give him a sloppy, wet kiss. She repeated his name over and over as she continued to ride his thigh, and she felt herself beginning to climax. “Fuuu-u-u-ck Morgan,” she felt a wave of pleasure wash through her.

“That’s a good girl. Keep riding my thigh. Keep going,” he ordered, placing his hands on her thighs to guide them back and forth. “It’s so fucking hot, Briony.”

She rode out the orgasm as much as she could, slowing her movements and eventually leaning into his chest. She could feel his heart beating quickly as she tried to get her breath back. Eventually, she looked up at him and giggled. “I can’t believe I just got off on your thigh,” she whispered.

He moved his hand down to feel how wet she was, bringing up his fingers to his mouth to taste her, showing her just how hot he thought it was. She moved off his thigh, stood between his legs, and turned around. “Wh…where are you going?” he asked.

“Don’t worry baby. I told you to sit back and relax,” she smiled over her shoulder, reaching behind her to grab his cock in her hands.

“Baby…”

“Shhh…” she said, lowering herself down slowly onto him.

She heard him gasp at the feeling, no doubt also appreciating the view he was currently getting of her hair cascading down her back and his cock disappearing into her. “Fuck, baby.”

“You like that, Mr. Rielly?”

He threw his head back as he bottomed out. “I fucking love it, baby,” he said as he grabbed her hips. She began moving up and down slowly, placing her hands on his thighs to balance herself, and Morgan couldn’t help but watch as his cock appeared and disappeared in her. “I love the way you look when my cock is in you…the way you moan my name when I fill you up…”

She looked back at him over her shoulder, tossing her hair in the process. She bit her lip as her nails dug into the skin of his thighs. “Will you spank me, Mr. Rielly?”

He didn’t hesitate. His hand let go of her hip and he smacked her ass, garnering a loud whimper from her. He did it again, harder, a louder shout escaping from her. “I love it when you spank me Mr. Rielly,” she cried out, increasing her rhythm. He did so again, on the opposite side, and she whipped her hair back. “So fucking good.”

He gathered most of her hair in his hand and pulled her body towards his so her back was flush with his chest. Instead of her controlling the rhythm now, it was him. He snaked his arms around to spread her legs wide with his and play with her bouncing breasts, caressing them and pinching her nipples. He left a trail of kisses along her shoulder and neck before she twisted her head to kiss him. “Does it feel good getting fucked like that?”

“Yes.”

“Louder.”

“Yes!” she sighed out.

“I think good girls can scream louder than that.”

“YES!” she cried out. “It feels so good when you fuck me. I can never get enough.”

“Go get on the bed,” he instructed.

She hesitated. “But I want--”

He spanked the side of her ass hard. “C’mon Briony. Be a good girl and go lie on the bed.”

“But I want your cock in me Mr. Rielly,” she mewled out desperately. “I want it so bad. I need it so bad.”

He gave her another spank, garnering another yelp. He could feel her walls clench around his cock at the sensation. “Go lie on your back like a good girl, Briony. By my good girl.”

She had no choice but to comply as he gently pushed her body off of his. She crawled onto the bed, giving him quite the view again, and she looked over her shoulder to make sure he was following. She turned over onto her back. He climbed onto the bed and wasted no time getting in between her legs, wrapping them around his body and guiding his throbbing cock into her with ease. He kissed her passionately, many times, unable to get enough. He knew it wasn’t elaborate, or filthy, or kinky in any way, but sometimes, simplicity was all he needed. Was all they needed.

“I love you Briony,” he whispered as he looked her in the eye.

“I love you too,” she kissed him quickly. “I love being your good girl Morgan. Always.”

He smiled. For all the ‘Mr. Rielly’ she said before, he knew she meant it when she said his first name. She trusted him. She liked everything that they were doing, everything that they did – genuinely enjoyed it. He felt himself getting close and increased his speed. “I love your warm pussy baby.”

“C’mon baby, fill me up. I’ve been your good girl and I want you to fill me up.”

A few more thrusts and he was done for, filling her up as her pussy clenched around him again. He buried his face in her neck as his cock twitched inside her, lowering his body onto hers slowly. When he felt himself get soft, he slipped out of her. She wrapped her arms around him, dragging her nails lazily up and down his back. “Happy birthday baby,” she whispered, giving him a kiss on his cheek.

“Hmm,” he smiled lazily. “Happy birthday to me.”

After a few moments of silence, Morgan could hear Bee snort. He propped himself up so he could look at her face. “I had a whole lingerie set planned and I didn’t even get to put it on.”

He chuckled, resting back in his previous position, his face in the crook of her neck, giving her a soft kiss. “Save it for round two.”

#morgan rielly #morgan rielly imagine #morgan rielly fic #toronto maple leafs #toronto maple leafs imagine #toronto maple leafs imagines #toronto maple leafs fic #hockey #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #hockey fic #nhl #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #nhl fic #alone together series

162 notes · View notes

jinjojess · 4 years

Text

DR Kirigiri Vol. 5 Summary Part VIII

Happy New Year everyone!

Let’s get back to that pesky Libra Academy case, shall we?

< LAST PART | NEXT PART >

Chapter 1 The Mania of Existence: Libra Girls’ Academy - Samidare Yui

For those of you reading these as I post them, here’s a quick reminder of the current stakes:

Kareobana Academy case: solved, Yadorigi last seen with Lico heading back to the others, current status unknown

Bar GOODBYE case: still unsolved, with Yaki dead

Museum of Medieval Western European Torture Devices case: Mizuiyama seems to have figured it out, but is alone after dark in the museum after having had a really eerie encounter with Lico

Twins Research Facility case: solved, though Kirigiri is currently unconscious and bound in the back of Tsutsumi’s car, ready to be used as a hostage to make Samidare let him go

Libra Girls’ Academy case: unsolved, though last time we left, Samidare had an epiphany about the trick involved

Obviously, when she announces this, Tsukiyo and Nazuna are pretty shocked and want to know what she means.

Samidare goes to the desk and starts to draw to show them, which is also helpfully supplied for the reader, since it’s kind of complicated to explain. I’ll just insert the diagram from the book, which is something I usually don’t do, but I think it’ll save us both a lot of headache.

“Libra means ‘scales’, right? What I mean is that this entire building is one huge scale.”

Both Tsukiyo and Nazuna don’t really process that, so Samidare goes on to explain that the room they’re in right now is sitting on one side of the scale, while the other small room with the coffins is on the other side. The church is the fulcrum. The beam, rather than overhead, is actually under them.

Like so.

The way there can be two different rooms in seemingly one space is that one room is inside this “box” sitting on the scale dish, while the other room’s floor is the top of the “box”. Since each side of the scale has a long vertical tower wrapping around it, the casual observer wouldn’t see any difference in the box’s static walls vs the top of the box’s non-connected walls.

I told you it’s difficult to sort out verbally.

Anyway, this explains how the culprit was able to move around and confound them so easily: they used weight to change the rooms on either side of the scale to “disappear” and “remove” the body.

This chapter takes like a good ten pages going over the exact way this trick works, and other than a few pithy quips from Tsukiyo, you aren’t losing much, so here’s the tl;dr version:

Samidare and Black Cape start in the first room with Takezaki’s body. This room is on top of the box, because those three are heavier than Tsukiyo and Nazuna together, who are trapped in coffins on top of the opposite box.

Tsukiyo notes that of course this is the case.

The reason the two girls were confined to the coffins was to keep them within the little clearance gap at the top of the vertical shaft, and also to conceal the whole scales thing.

Samidare chases Black Cape across the beam of the scale.

Black Cape enters into the box on that side, meaning that now there’s three people’s weight to one dead body on the other side, so the culprit gets into an empty room to hide, that’s then pushed down the shaft and rendered inaccessible.

The doors function like elevator doors and cannot be opened while the scale is in motion, so that’s why Samidare couldn’t get in right after Black Cape.

When she entered into the room, it meant there were four people on one side of the scale and only a dead body on the other.

Ah, I know that you, eagle-eyed reader, are probably wondering how the scale didn’t even out while the three girls were searching the church. Shouldn’t the single culprit and the single dead body weigh about the same and reset the scale?

Well sure, it would, if the culprit hadn’t counted on that.

See, you need to remember that Tsukiyo and Nazuna were handcuffed at the hands and feet, and the key was around a statue of the Virgin Mary. A statue that Samidare refused to break to take the key and instead used a conveniently placed handtruck to carry it into the room with everyone else.

Yep.

I’m impressed the culprit knew Samidare would be morally opposed to breaking a statue of the Virgin Mother--they really did their research.

So anyway, as you’d imagine, the Mary statue plus the culprit was enough to keep the box room with the corpse on top of it level with the hallway. Then the girls were tricked into trapping themselves by all going to see the body. (Which, again, was Naz’s suggestion.)

So yeah, here we are now.

The three girls are trapped, and the culprit is free.

That summed up everything that happened at Libra Girls’ Academy.

Was it possible to even make a building that worked like a scale? The Committee for the Salvation of Victims of Crime could probably do it. We were facing Shinsen Mikado and Ryuuzouji Gekka here. In fact, this is pretty much exactly what I’d expect from them.

“Wait, so the culprit gets to run away...and we’re just stuck here forever? That sucks! You solved the mystery and it didn’t get us anywhere!”

“Uh...right! Since we know there’s another room above us, couldn’t we break through the ceiling to escape?” I said, looking up at the ceiling.

It was over thirty meters high.

“It’s easy to say that, but how would we do it?”

“...Let’s try throwing a chair.”

((Ah yes, Samidare, take a page out of Nanamura’s book.))

I took the small chair beside the writing desk in my hands and tossed it above me. It clamored to the ground without even hitting the ceiling.

It would be really tough to throw something in the direct center of the ceiling. Besides, something as small as this chair probably would never reach it on its own.

“Looks like that won’t work.”

“Okay, how about this. Naz-chan, get on my shoulders.”

“Huh? Me?!”

“Yeah. Tsukiyo-chan’s got a lot of issues going on right now.”

“I appreciate your sympathy.”

I crouched down and Nazuna climbed up onto my shoulders. Careful to keep my balance and not drop her, I stood up.

“Woah, woah!”

Nazuna seemed a little worried.

“Well?”

“I c-can’t reach it. Not at all.”

I wondered if maybe I could jump and reach that spot instead.

((YES! YES, PLOT-RELEVANT SAMIDARE JUMPS!!!))

I let Nazuna down, whose face looked like a little kid who’d just been lifted up for the first time. She mumbled “high, so high” to herself.

“Hey, what did you do to Naz? Her cheeks are on fire!”

“I don’t know. I didn’t do anything weird.”

“You’ve done nothing but weird stuff since you got here!”

“That’s not what we’re supposed to be worrying about now! Help me think of a way out.”

“I don’t think breaking through the ceiling is realistic,” Nazuna said, sitting flat on the floor. “It’s probably reinforced with concrete or thick beams. We’d need serious firepower if we wanted to break through it.”

“Yeah, guess you’re right…” I said, shoulders sagging.

“Ah, I just had a great idea,” Tsukiyo said, suddenly looking up. “What if all three of us jumped at the same time, and that made this side of the scale lighter so it would go up?”

“I mean sure, if we jumped it would be lighter while we were in the air, but I doubt the scale would move in the 0.1 seconds we were airborne.”

“Well we won’t know unless we try, right?”

“I mean I guess… Should we?”

“Nah, sounds like a pain,” Tsukiyo said, quickly abandoning her own plan and flopping onto the floor, going back to her withdrawn stage.

Nazuna sat beside her, her face twisted in thought about how to escape. It didn’t seem like she was having much luck.

I picked up the chair I’d thrown at the ceiling and sat in it.

I wanted to be out of here already.

I wanted to go home, to my dorm room.

I wanted to get back to my peaceful, normal life.

Normal, huh.

I wondered if it would be possible to live a calm, normal life with Kirigiri without cases to solve. It was possible that even if we managed to establish some normalcy around us, she’d set off in search of her next case.

Was there even anywhere for us to return home to?

“I’m hungry…” Tsukiyo said, starting once again to proclaim her desires to the room.

“I wonder what time it is…” Nazuna said, understandably losing steam herself.

“Don’t worry. My friends will definitely come save us. We all decided to check in by noon, so if they don’t hear from me, someone will come.”

“How many hours away is that?”

“Uh…”

“Don’t get my hopes up like this,” Tsukiyo said coldly, only her eyes pointed in my direction.

“Hey, by the way,” I said, hoping to change the topic. “Do you guys really not have any idea who the culprit could be? Even though we unraveled the trick, we still don’t know who the killer is. Do you guys know of anyone who might want Takezaki-san dead?”

“Obviously not! We were kidnapped by some weird pervert, weren’t we? It’s not like we’d hang out with anyone like that and not tell them to take a hike!” Tsukiyo said, starting to get upset.

“So you don’t know anything about Takezaki-san? No weird rumors or anything?”

“Weird rumors?”

“Ah,” Nazuna said. “Now that you mention it, I did hear something about her. That back in middle school, she drove one of her former friends to suicide…”

“The hell? I never heard that.”

“That’s because you don’t take any interest in our classmates, Tsukiyo-san…”

“Well duh, why would I? I only have eyes for you, Naz, hehe.”

“You really should expand your horizons, Tsukiyo-san.”

“What? You’re telling me that too, Naz? You sound just like my dad.”

“Hey, so, about Takezaki-san?”

“Well, I don’t have much interest in gossip myself, so I just passively listened, but apparently, Takezaki-san was being extorted for money by a classmate back in middle school. Then one day, the bully changed targets from her to some other girl, allegedly someone Takezaki-san was once close with. Rumor says that she paid 100,000 yen ($1000 roughly) for it. In reality, it was probably closer to the bully demanding 100,000 yen in order to focus on some other target, and she just complied. Eventually, the friend ended up killing herself.”

“That’s pretty tragic…”

“Seems like there was someone who wanted to make Takezaki-san out to be worse, so they exaggerated the rumor. Said things like Takezaki-san herself was the leader of the extortion group and such. There’s no way to tell what’s true and what isn’t.”

“Certainly seems sufficient as a motive,” I muttered to myself. “Perhaps it’s a school friend, or a relative… Can you think of anyone?”

“As I mentioned before, Takezaki-san and I weren’t exactly close…”

“Right… Oh wait, can you think of any Libras?”

“Libras? I don’t really remember other people’s zodiac signs.”

“Yeah, I guess not…”

“I know Naz’s zodiac sign. She’s a Leo! It’s the same sign as me. We match! Hehehe!”

It might have just been my imagination, but it seemed like Tsukiyo was starting to lose it. Maybe we’d been shut up in here for too long, and it was starting to take a mental toll.

That or she’s just threatened by your oblivious allure, Samidare.

This subplot is fantastic and I’m going to miss it when it’s over.

Soon after this conversation, everyone starts to feel weird, and the room begins to shake. They realize that the scale is moving, which is good in that it shows that they’re going to get out, but is bad, since the only one who knows how the scale works is the culprit.

Samidare motions for Tsukiyo and Nazuna to move away from the door, and hoists the chair over her head to use as a weapon.

Then the door opens, and the person standing there is…

A man with the physique of a model, wearing an expensive suit and sunglasses.

“Ya-Yadorigi-san?” I said without thinking.

“Oh, Samidare-san,” he said back, as if we’d just bumped into each other on the street. “Good morning. Are you in the process of solving this case?”

“Huh? Uh, erm, I am, but…” What the heck was going on here? “What are you doing here, Yadorigi-san?”

“It’ll take a while to explain, so let’s chat over breakfast at a hotel or something. By the way, you aren’t hurt, are you? I know you must be exhausted.”

“I’m already tuckered out, for sure.”

“Those two behind you are connected to the case too?”

“Yeah.”

“Then have them join us for breakfast,” Yadorigi said with a smile.

Nazuna crept up behind me, whispering in my ear: “Is that man the Black Cape?”

“Huh, there’s no way…”

“You know each other?”

“We sure do, this is one of the other detectives in our group.”

“This is really strange, though. The only one who should know how to let us out is the culprit…”

“What? No!”

“Do you have something you need to discuss?” Yadorigi asked, offering an arm to escort us. “For now I think it’s best if we leave this room, no?”

“Oh right,” I said, then looked over my shoulder to whisper to the others. “We’ll be in trouble if we get trapped in here again, so let’s get out of here for now. Stay behind me.”

Nazuna and Tsukiyo nodded, and Yadorigi walked into the hallway.

The rest of us followed, finally taking a step off the dish of the scale. Despite that, I felt more confused than elated. Like there was something going on that was above my head.

((Hey, Samidare? I’m going to remind you that your Big Bad is a guy who can disguise himself real good.))

We followed down the hall, me carefully leaving thirty meters between us and Yadorigi.

Finally, the hallway ended, and Yadorigi took a step into the church. He stopped and looked over his shoulder, waiting until we closed more of the distance between us before starting to walk again.

In the next moment, I saw a black shadow jump out from the left of my peripheral vision.

It was Black Cape.

I didn’t have time to yell out.

Black Cape brought the metal pipe down on Yadorigi’s head.

Fresh blood spurted everywhere.

I couldn’t even look away.

Yadorigi crumpled on the spot, falling to the ground as if dead.

I heard Tsukiyo and Nazuna scream behind me.

Black Cape’s hood was facing me.

I’ll never forgive you…

I’ll never forgive you!

Murderer!

“I’m Samidare Yui, the detective assigned to this case! You cannot hurt me!” I yelled at the top of my lungs. “If you’re going to hurt someone, you’ll have to go through me. If you’re ready to face the consequences of breaking the rules, then come at me!”

I took a step toward Black Cape, who responded by taking a step back.

We faced off in the silent church, the smell of blood growing ever thicker.

Black Cape held up the bloody pipe in a defensive stance and began to retreat.

“Running away?”

As soon as I said it, Black Cape stopped.

They seemed unsure, as if they hadn’t considered that this would happen.

“From here I can reach you in two steps,” I said, pointing to my feet. “If you turn to run, I’ll catch you immediately. If you want to fight, I’ll face you. Don’t you get it? You’ve already lost. Give up, and put down the pipe.”

Without noticing, we’d moved to the area closest to the entrance. So they were planning on running way.

The door was on the left of where I was standing, the area where I saw Black Cape jump out to attack Yadorigi. I could see that the boards sealing up the door had already been removed. It was possible to leave.

I turned my attention there. That was likely where the culprit would try to flee.

On the other hand, the hallway leading to the coffin room was right behind them. It was equally possible that they might try to make a break for it and hide in that room like before.

“I’ve already figured out your trick. There’s nowhere to run,” I said. “All that’s left is to unmask you and make you confess.”

Black Cape’s identity…

I looked over the person before me again. Though the cape helped hide it, they were extremely small. They had to be a woman, or a child.

Who the hell?

((Samdiare…))

I couldn’t imagine a mystery where the culprit was someone who’d never been introduced before, but...I couldn’t think of anyone who it could be. Plus, the Libra Girls’ Academy case had just started, and it was possible that there were more murders planned.

Black Cape’s hood hid most of their face, but I could see their mouth.

It was smiling.

I felt as though I’d seen it somewhere before.

Mocking me, trying to taunt me.

((Samidare, come on...))

As soon as I thought that, Black Cape turned to make a break for the hallway.

“Ah!”

I was too slow!

I sprung from the floor.

I wouldn’t let them escape…

Just as I thought that, the culprit tripped and fell spectacularly. From inside the hood, a pair of glasses flew across the floor.

Glasses?

Whatever, now was my chance.

This entire time, I’d been chasing after the back of his black caped culprit, and now I was going to tackle them like I’d wanted to since the start.

As I lunged, Black Cape rolled first onto their side, then their back.

Shit!

A trap?

The hood back, our eyes met.

Black Cape grabbed my sleeve with their left hand and pulled, pressing the gun-like thing in their right hand against the left side of my chest.

“Gotcha,” she said.

It was a voice I’d heard before.

It was a face I’d seen before.

“Do you know what this is? It’s a nail gun. If I pull the trigger, it’ll stake you through the heart and turn you into a voodoo doll.”

“Why would you…”

It was one of the detectives in our group, Mizuiyama Sachi.

Ha! You thought it was Lico! But no!

The curse of Jess starting to like a seemingly unimportant character and them ending up evil strikes again!

Though still, Shinsen can disguise himself as anyone, so maybe check on Yadorigi to make sure he’s dead? Something?

But anyway hell yeah! This is the kind of shit I’m here for!

< LAST PART | NEXT PART >

#DR Kirigiri #DRK5 #DRK5 summary #translations #long post #DR Kirigiri spoilers #I'll fix the images later

23 notes · View notes

jamiceapex · 5 years

Text

One year.

It has been exactly a year since you and Mark went on that first date. It was a dark night, you were getting you're outfit ready for your *date* tonight. And now the both of you are going into a museum to rob a magic box to celebrate your one (1) year anniversary.

You slowly walk up to a wall and take out a grappling hook, getting ready to start the plan.

'The new 2000. Not bad, Mark.'

You prepare the grappling hook, getting ready to shoot and sneak into the museum.

After climbing through vents, scaling walls and sneaking past guards, you wait for Mark at the place you planned to sync your watches.

Mark crashes onto the glass bridge, his full black outfit having a great contrast against the unusually bright bridge.

"All right, we're in. You know the plan right?" He laughs a bit. "What am I saying you practically wrote it! Everything you need is in your bag, so let's synchronise our watches. On three (3). Three (3)! Perfect!" What a jerk. You sigh, giving up on the watch.

'Why does he always do this?'

"Now, stick to the plan and you'll be just fine. But if you deviate from it, for even a single moment. I won't come back for you." He messes with his bag as he gives you a death stare and grabs his grappling gun.

"Okay? Good luck~" Woosh

Taking off your bag you look for a certain item. A steak, still very greasy and it probably ruined this nice bag that you could've used for a trip or something.

You turn around and find a security guard.

'Time for stage one (1)...'

"What do you think you're doin'?" They asked. "Oh no! Not the old steak trick! I'm not falling for that twice. Yeah put the steak down… I'm not even going to look at the steak. I'm looking at you, right in the eyes!" He sighs, "I-I looked at the steak…"

Mark sneaks behind him with his very good disguise of a potted plant and wraps one of his arms around the security guards neck. "Shhh…" He whispers, looking around. We high-five briefly and run down the stairs to begin the next part of our plan.

"Nicely done, sweetie. All according to plan~" He exclaims, walking backwards. "And speaking of plan… looks like we are, uh," He takes out our plan, "Eh, yeah! We're moving on to phase two (2). Are you ready? On my go." Checking his *synchronised* watch he yells,

"GO"

Mark does some cool acrobatics that he has been practicing with his friend, Ethan for quite some time. 'He wanted to impress you.' Is what Ethan told me. His moves were a bit over the top but, whatever. As long as you got closer to the vault door, where the box was kept captive, everything will be perfect.

"Behind you. Behind you!" He pointed. Looking behind you, another security guard shows up. He was whistling loudly while searching for anyone with his blinding flashlight.

"He tracks the intruder, quiet as a ninja suppressing a fart in a church." He chuckles, "There she is. Three-legged woman. Got you now…"

As he continues to talk to the three-legged woman, you find a baseball on the ground. Waiting to be used as a distraction.

'Perfect…'

You grab the ball and toss it from where the security guard popped out from. The ball rolled away slowly.

"Who's there?!" He starts making his way back.

Mark waves at you, trying to get your attention. "Great job, Y/N. I'll meet you over there." He slides across the floor.

'Okay then…'

"All right, we are so close to the vault. C'mon. Stay low and stay quiet~"

We cross a big chess board "Come on, this way babe." He grabs a rook and places it down on the other side of the board. "Heheh, check mate!"

'That's not how you play chess.'

"Ohhh I can almost taste it. We're almost there!"

The vault beeps and opens, two security guards making their way out. We sneak behind one of the pillars and listen to their conversation.

"You wanna know about my favourite thing about this vault?" "Go on.." "You need two (2) keys! One for you-" "One for me."

"One, two, three, Security!" They both cheered.

"Pshh, what a bunch of losers, right Y/N?" You bob your head up and down, agreeing. "Oh, crap. Oh crap." He mumbles, making his way to the vault. "This wasn't in the plan. There are two keys for the vault. We need to get them from those guards that just left, or anyone that has a key."

You give him a thumbs up and head back the way you came.

After Mark falling from using his grappling hook terribly, you both get keys for the vault. You quickly unlock the vault doors and walk in…

"This is it, this is really it! This is what we've been working towards our whole lives! Well, one year to be exact. But its finally ours!" He takes the glass surrounding the artifact off. He pries the box off of the stand and winks, "Happy one year!"

Suddenly an alarm starts blaring.

"Uh, it's fine! This is why we made a plan. Okay I see two ways out of this place, there just happens to be a sewer...that we could've went through...but that's not the point! We can go through the sewer or go…" He takes out an already lit bomb and a very old looking gun. "Guns blazing! This is your call, hurry up and pick one!"

So what will you do? Go all sneaky like in the sewer? Or wreck absolute chaos and go guns blazing?

((little explanation: comment or reblog which way you wanna go! simple as that. i have one on wattpad (same username) and maybe you could pick a different option???))

((i know yall gonna go find yancy but we'll see 👀))

#ahwm #markiplier #fanfic #a heist with markiplier #a date with markiplier #adwm #ahwm spoilers #a heist with markiplier spoilers #mark fischbach

27 notes · View notes

mrs-dragneel-stark-solo · 4 years

Text

Unforseen Chasm (Part 48)

Part 48 of Unforseen Chasm

Prompt: Two sisters fall for men that are absolute enemies. The love they have could tear all of them apart, or it could bring them together. Word Count: 4613 Warnings: Language, last part that deals with Ultron movie, reader fights bff, mind control, widow protocol reactivated, song for this part: Note: This is by far the longest thing I’ve ever written (including my other fic series). first major Collab with my best friend @thorne93 what was first a simple “what if” moment turned into a two year writing session and I’ve never been more prouder of myself than when i started my first series. goes through most of the MCU plots there are some changes to accommodate for what we wanted and there is a bit of a crossover between the MCU and other characters. I hope you guys enjoy reading this just as much as I enjoyed writing it.