#This one got me crying AAAAGH

[amaranthine-enihtnarama]

It Happened Quiet (DBS Broly x Superpowered! Reader)

(I gave the reader powers because I can 😈; implied future romance, ‘I can fix him’ literature)

When she’d first discovered her way with words, Y/N had been afraid to speak. There wasn’t a way she could control it. It hurt the people she loved, and only brought bad luck. Her voice only brought her fear—so she lived in silence.

Never did the possibility of helping someone with her power occur to her. Never did she think it would save the people she loved so dearly.

***

“Y/N, you good?!”

I looked up at Bulma incredulously and shook my head, but nothing could really compare to being able to shout no, i’m not fucking okay. But I’d given up shouting, at least until it became the last resort after our Saiyans got defeated. So I bit my lip hard enough to taste blood, hid behind Whis, and muscled through the horribly disorienting feeling that only comes from watching gods battle—after all, I was one of those gods’ backup plan.

I bit back a scream as a stray blast exploded next to us, flying to my feet in terror—I should be at home, cuddled up on the sofa with a couple of chocolate brownies, watching some dumb soap opera or prank show on tv! Not shitting myself surrounded by a sea of lava, feeling the literal world quaking around me, risking my fucking life just in case the weapon of mass destruction inside my throat might come in handy. They had no idea how lucky they were I physically couldn’t complain. Well, Whis aside.

Then—a scream.

“Aaaagh!”

My stomach flipped at the sound of Goku’s agonized cry and I looked out from behind the refuge of Whis to see what had happened. I almost yelped as a body flew directly past my face, and Goku’s body crashed into the rock. I looked to Vegeta on the ground next to Bulma, totally out of commission as well. My shoulders slumped. It was definitely about to be my turn. I signed, asking of Goku was okay, Bulma watched my hands, then turned to him.

“Goku, Y/N’s asking if you’re okay!”

He smiled weakly. “I’m…”

I rose my eyebrows.

“I’m gonna need a minute…”

Shit.

A gentle swoop in the air behind me made me whirl around in alarm, seeing Whis calmly evade the rabid Saiyan as he roared in frustration, throwing punches and kicks furiously. My stomach clenched into a fist. I was definitely going to die.

Focusing on what I could control, I turned to Bulma, signing again.

Tell Goku to Instant Transmission all of you, I instructed.

“What? Why?”

I’m going to talk the crazy one down, you guys need to be out of the way.

She paled visibly in the glow of the lava. “Don’t need to tell me twice. Help me with Vegeta.”

He let out a pained groan as we struggled with his weight, but ultimately managed to drag him over next to Goku.

“Goku,” Bulma said, nudging him.

“Ow.”

“Sorry,” she apologized, “Can you Instant Transmission us out of here?”

“Uh…yeah…”

I turned to check in on Whis and the Saiyan—Whis was barely even moving. With a relieved sigh, I nodded to Bulma.

Get out of here.

“We’re out! C’mon Goku.”

“Uh-huh,” he muttered, trying to lift his arm.

“Oh—do you—do—“

“I…I got it.”

“It really doesn’t look—“

His arm finally lifted and curled, and they disappeared. I stared at the empty ground for a moment, then braced myself at I turned around.

“Whis!”

The angel cooly turned his gaze to me, dodging the Saiyan’s attacks.

“Yes, Y/N?”

“Bring him over here! I got this!”

Whis rose his eyebrows, considering him, then looking back to me.

“Do you?”

“Just get him over here!”

“If you insist…”

In a flash, Whis landed in front of me.

“He’s coming, shall I move—“

“Oh my god, he’s huge—“

“Y/N…”

“It’s good, I’m good, just stay close in case I need a quick escape.”

I stepped out from behind Whis, fixing my eyes on the crazed, bloodthirsty pair that shifted to meet mine. My heart jumped at the Saiyan’s devilish grin upon finding a new target, but I held my ground, swallowing. My voice would work, it always works, there was no reason to think otherwise. I looked to Whis, gesturing and jutting my head to tell him to get out of earshot. He nodded and hovered, flying away. The green-haired berserker snarled at the sight of Whis departing and flew after him until—

“Hey!”

His head immediately snapped towards me. I fixed my gaze on his and relaxed my shoulders. The thought of getting a giant, glowing, green-haired and completely nuts Saiyan to obey my words, let alone hear them seemed incredulous.

“Come here,” I commanded.

Just as I’d feared, he only stared in confusion, then shifted his attention to where Whis once was, but he’d disappeared. He growled as she searched the area, then fixed his eyes on me again. My stomach dropped. Oh, fuck.

He started to fly closer to me, clearly sizing me up. I wasn’t going to give him a good fight, but I doubt a berserk Saiyan has such epicurean tastes in who they pummel into the ground. I gulped, holding his chilling stare as he closed in.

“Stop,” I said weakly.

His ignored my voice, and my stomach flipped. Shit, I was too scared. I needed to calm down. I closed my eyes, feeling the air grow static around me as he got closer. I opened my eyes, looking up to meet his gaze.

“Stop.”

He halted, and relief flooded my body. I let out a shaky breath, then smiled.

“Calm down,” I gently told him, “You don’t need to fight anymore.”

I watched with slight amazement as the tension in his shoulders released, and his hair slowly began to turn black again. The rage that clouded his eyes started to clear.

“Come here.”

He coasted over and landed in front of me. I swallowed, feeling my legs buckle as I was dwarfed by his towering, muscular figure. I glanced up, hoping to meet his eyes, but I only got an eyeful of his chest. I craned my neck to meet his eyes behind his dark hair. He was staring at me in bewilderment, and I’m sure I was doing the same.

“No more fighting,” I said, “The fight’s over.”

He frowned, muttering to me. “…Over?”

I nodded. “It’s done.”

He didn’t seem convinced. “But…”

“But?”

He looked away, posture sinking.

“What is it,” I asked.

“My…”

He frowned, then fell silent. I lifted my hand slowly so as not to startle him.

“May I?”

After considering my for a moment, he nodded.

I reached out and gently touched his arm. He tensed in surprise but relaxed soon after. I closed my eyes, seeing a blur of images—crashing and loud roars and unbearable thirst—until it finally zeroed in on a large silhouette. It was a man. He was hunched over, leaned against the mouth of a cave. Although I couldn’t see it, I knew he was frowning deeply.

“You were meant for more than this, Broly,” he said gruffly, “That bastard—King Vegeta—he did this to us. He’s reason why we suffer like this.”

His head turned to us. I swallowed, feeling uneasy. I didn’t like the feeling of being under his gaze.

“We will avenge ourselves, son.”

I heard thunder rumbling in the sky.

“I’ll make sure we get the justice we deserve.”

Lighting struck behind the man and my ears filled with agonized screams—I was blinded by pale white light, then blasts and battle cries, and in the midst, I could see the cold, dead body of a strange bearded man in a purple skirt. Wait—I’d seen him before, he was here, not just a moment ago…was he dead? My thoughts were violently interrupted as cold sweats covered my entire body as a shock of pain snaked up my entire arm and I pulled away from him, crying out despite myself. Gripping my wrist, I watched as my hand shook uncontrollably and turned to look back at Broly. He had crouched down in concern.

“You’re hurt,” he said softly.

I shook my head, trying to reassure him. “No, no, I—“

“I’m sorry…it’s my fault.”

He kneeled down, reaching for my hands and taking them in his. I froze, watching his large hands engulf mine. Despite their gentle hold I could feel the power coursing through them—power I just witnessed.

“I…know the shaking.”

I looked up at his face with more ease. His features were rough, but his countenance gave them a delicacy and care that was mystifying. He felt my stare and looked at me, but I timidly averted my gaze.

The tremors throughout my arm and hand went away as he carefully squeezed my hand a few times. It felt strangely warm between his palms; I wonder if he was using ki. I slowly took my hand back and he easily let go.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Ah, lovely, it seems you’ve tamed him.”

The pleasant lilt of Whis’s voice made my spine go erect with inexplicable embarrassment and quickly move away from Broly. I cleared my throat.

“Anyone left”, I asked.

“All that seems to be left is Lord Frieza…although he seems to be less interested in keeping up our little skirmish.”

I moved past Whis to fix my eyes on Freiza’s small form in the distance, my stomach twisting with disgust and fear. A pang of shame always followed when I remembered I still feared him, but I had to cut myself some slack—it was Freiza, after all.

“If Freiza’s all that’s left, this fight’s over.”

If anyone knows the extent of my abilities, it’s him. Despite the fact I could feel that he was staring at me from so far away, I turned around, looking at Whis.

“We should leave.”

“And what of…I’m sorry, I never got your name,” Whis remarked, turning his attention to the Saiyan.

“Broly,” he said.

I looked towards him again, but broke my gaze when I realized he was still watching me.

“Well, Broly…where do you have to go?”

“My father,” he said quietly.

Whis nodded. “Your father died on the battlefield, am I correct?”

Broly shrunk even more. “Yes. It was…my fault.”

“Your—“

I caught myself, going back to signing again. Broly eyed my hands in confusion.

Your fault?

“Y/N is asking why it’s your fault,” Whis said.

He looked at me soulfully, his dark eyes filled with guilt and fear.

“I lost control. I always do…I hurt him…”

He fixed his eyes on the ground and his hair hid his face. I swallowed at the familiarity.

“Well, then, what are we to do,” Whis muttered to himself.

A glowing light suddenly surrounded Broly that made me jump back in alarm—was he that upset? I yelped and grabbed onto Whis as he shot up from the ground and into the sky. I watched in bewilderment until my eyes settled on Shenron and his subsequent departure. A wish?

Not too long after, a small ship flew into the darkened skies after Broly into space. Whis and I shared a look and I awkwardly let him go.

“Seems like that problem is solved; shall we reunite with Goku and the others?”

I stared quietly with a soft ache of disappointment.

“Yeah.”

#Spotify #amaranthine_enihtnarama #my wriitng #fic request #dbs broly #dbs broly x reader #broly x reader

[beanghostprincess]

Okay first off please ignore that this is from the new chicken run movie (although I got to say the new chicken run movie is really good so if that doesn’t deter you that’s also great) but also all this Shuggyuta family talk coupled with me having this song on repeat for the last few days has done irreparable damage to my brain and I just need you to imagine a Uta growing up Montage set to this song with me:

https://youtu.be/UNjPjQdwmHc?si=m4NXRCfd2OGKuLbZ

… although now I’m also thinking about Saunst + their daughter with this and my heart is bleeding even more at the thought of Sanji just being a tiny bit overprotective of his little girl while also being aware she’s gonna grow up some day and go her own way and aaaagh! God! „I just want her by my side for my whole life. She's the brightest light and the highest high. And it's hard i know. One day she'll have to go and leave me behind But i never wanna say goodbye couse she's so sweet“ LIKE ARE YOU FUCKING ME SIDEWAYS WHAT THE FUCK

Anyways. Chicken run soundtrack, oddly feels inducing for some reason

Don't worry about this song being from Chicken Run. I am like, the least judgemental person when it comes to soundtracks and music because the things that seem the most absurd can have the best of music. Heck, I listen to the Ducktales and Animaniacs soundtracks a very not normal amount- Also the Trolls soundtrack is so fucking good?? Honestly, musicals. In general. (Ducktales isn't a musical but y'know, good music in general, and the Darkwing Duck theme song is one of my favorite songs ever?? And every time Dewey sings I cry with joy but that's because it's Ben Schwartz and I absolutely love his voice). I AM SORRY I GOT TO CARRIED AWAY- I- I used to have a very heavy hyperfixation on Ducktales I am sorry.

And I haven't watched Chicken Run, by the way, but Paloma Faith is a great singer and this song is just SO beautiful?? I can totally imagine a whole montage with Shuggy/Uta and Sanuso/Their daughter that I definitely don't have a whole OC of ahahahahaha (I am so normal I definitely don't have two twin daughters and a little guy created for these two hahahah-). It's just,, So cute.

I think both Shanks and Sanji would be the most sensitive dads ever and they'd cry just thinking about their children growing up. It makes them really emotional!!!!!

#thank you for this i might watch the movies even #because good music goes brrr #one piece #shuggy #sanuso #uta one piece

[nootqueen404]

Another day, another fanfics I wish I liked so save later and now I can’t find it. Actually there are TWO!

One is Jonathan x Reader x Nancy (you don’t see a lot of those) and the other is the Fruity Four (plus Jonathan) x reader. Both are smut obviously but aaaagh I’ve had a rough week and need to destress.

Today I was suppose to go to Canada Fan Expo in Toronto and FINALLY meet Joseph, but TSA denied me entry because I had the “wrong type” of passport, even though AAA said what I had would work just fine. Apparently you can’t fly to Canada with a passport card, and Canada is seen as “international.” Which is bullshit because I’ve literally driven to Montreal before and got over the border and back just fine.

But yeah… help please before I start crying again.

#stranger things #stranger things 4 #steve harrington #eddie munson #fanfics #fanfiction #robin buckley #ronance #steddie #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #stranger things smut #eddie my beloved #eddie x reader x steve #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington fanfiction #nancy x reader #robin buckley x reader #jonathan x reader

[pagerunner-j]

And so: my Jedi Survivor playthrough, still in progress. Drama just happened. There was one development I didn’t see coming, at least in the way that it occurred. (I mean, [redacted] was acting sus as hell, but they did surprise me with a key detail.) And no specific spoilers, but let me tell you: Greez just made me goddamn cry. Making the comedic characters sad is dirty pool, Respawn.

The game itself almost had me crying already, too, albeit with frustration. First it crashed on me twice while I was trying to fast travel around Koboh, and the second time out, I got an alert about a corrupted save file (aaaagh). I pulled a slightly older one off cloud storage to be safe. Then a few mission checkpoints later, there was an event where I had to pull down a pile of debris, with the R1 + X prompt clear on screen, but the R1 wouldn’t register and so I just hopped around like an idiot. Had to quit and restart to fix that. It was followed by a fight I actively had NO patience with after all that, and I bumped the difficulty down to story mode just to get it the hell over with.

And then, yeah. Things happened. And there was me. With the crying.

Anyway. The game’s great. Genuinely. It’s great. Caveat: WHEN IT WORKS, and when I’m not fumbling around figuring out what to interact with to progress something. Maybe wait for a few more patches. But yes. It’s quite a thing, and I love this crew.

P.S. Just walked past an ISB officer who was totally Liam. Hi, evil Vax Liam!

P.P.S. The very last scene before the credits glitched out in hilariously jerky-jerky fashion — and I thought from the patch notes that it wa supposed to be fixed already! Hahahahawhooops. Oh well. I got the gist.

Damn good story, though. Merrin is the best of all of them. Kata is a sweetheart (and is fortunately very understanding). Greez remains fantastic. BD is always best BB. And Cal, my boy, my bro my guy my dude, gets what might be the best/creepiest/most ludicrous/still kinda the best button prompt in ALL OF GAMING in this thing. Press F (okay, L3+R3, whatever) to…

Well, definitely not to pay respects.

More spoilery thoughts later, maybe. For now I need to finish catching fish and take some more pictures around the Spoiler Planet. It’s made of pretty, okay? Okay.

#jedi survivor #star wars

[darklordofthesimp]

I binged all of your fics yesterday and oh my goodness I love all of them! Anything is GREAT! I absolutely adore enemies to lovers, it’s my favorite trope, but people tend to misrepresent it a lot. Also, anyone who likes enemies to lovers should read Sherwood Smith’s Crown Duel and Court Duel, it’s really well done set of books about a poor young countess and her brother trying to overthrow a tyrant king, but she gets caught and chased around the kingdom after defending her people. The love interest is not what he seems and it’s really well done! It’s about the hatred bro! It’s about the trauma! It’s about the anger and resentment and realizing that the person who hurt you is just taking it and not fighting back. It’s about how that makes you ANGRIER! It’s about how DARE THEY JUST ACCEPT IT. It’s about how they completely defy your expectations and tilt your world on it’s axis! It’s about the struggle because if they really are a monster they’d push back, but they HAVE TO BE A MONSTER. BUT WHAT IF THEY AREN’T? but now you hate yourself because they HURT YOU and you’re questioning everything! It’s about the internal back and forth! It’s about DENIAL! it’s about the horrible pining of one vs. the burning hatred and confusion of the other! It’s about the self-loathing! It’s about having to come together for something. It’s about eventual healing! It’s about COMMUNICATION! It’s about learning and growing and forgiving! AAAAGH! I just love enemies to lovers so much and your story immediately reminded me of crown and court duel, (which is the best enemies to lovers story I’ve ever read). It’s like, only a few chapters in and already I can feel it my bones. It’s an excellent story that I’m going to rage and seethe and cry and leap for joy over. Your writing is so good! I don’t know how to describe it, I just immediately got the feeling that somehow you understood exactly what enemies to lovers is all about and you implemented it perfectly! I’m super excited for more, thank you so much for sharing your writing! Oof and now I’m thinking of other enemies to lovers books I’ve read… Listen I’ve missed this trope.

OHHHH I GOTTA PUT A CROWN OF COURT AND DUEL IN MY TBR LIST.

I've got so many fucking books I need to stop buying I swear but now WE GOT ANOTHER ONE.

And I'm so glad you're enjoying my take on the enemies to lovers trope! Hopefully it continues to get you up and going as we progress hagaha

[kariuann]

When He's Gone

huhuhu i love you all, thank u for supporting this series

idk how many parts this is

but I will complete this

warning: cusses, usage of alcohol

synopsis: Lucifer undergoes several changes after the argument, and when Mammon goes missing, his brothers try to find him.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

“Ya wanna know why I’m doin’ all of this, DEAR brother?!”

“It’s my fucking sin, dammit!”

“Ya made me like this, DEAR brother!”

“I SHOULD’VE NEVER FOLLOWED YA!!”

“…!”

Lucifer sprung up from his deep slumber as his mind recalls what his younger brother said. He grunts as he looks up from his window. It was still too early to wake up.

Since then, Lucifer has been a mess.

Every single night he would have the same nightmare, and he would have great difficulties going back to sleep once again. That caused his form to be much more disheveled than what he tries to maintain, and by then he became a lot colder to his own brothers. The others couldn’t even find it to themselves to join him in meals, except for Beelzebub.

He was much worse at RAD, too.

He became the last one to attend to meetings, he kept glaring to everyone he would meet, and the demons surrounding him were beginning to flee once they saw him, in fear that he would try to kill them on the spot. Barbatos, being the observant he is, noticed this drastic change as soon as it started, and he would always report it to the young master.

The purgatory hall members were starting to get a little concerned, too. One time, they held a private meeting alongside the other brothers. It was then that they found out the cause of all this.

“Where’s Mammon?”

The brothers were silent once Simeon asked. Mentioning his own name sparked their memories of what happened that day, how Mammon finally lashed out on his own brother. Finally, Asmodeus spoke.

“We haven’t seen him in days.”

Silence then followed afterwards, growing heavy as minutes pass.

“We don’t know where he went, or what’s he doing right now… I’m starting to get worried…”

It was clear to the purgatory hall members that whatever happened on that day made a huge impact to the others, seeing as Beel would eat much less and Asmo would grow dark circles under his eyes. Barbatos opted to tell them the cause, which they managed while trying to hold back their tears.

“It was all my fault! If I hadn’t insulted him so many times already this would never happen!” Levi broke, choking into sobs. Satan tried to calm him down.

“It’s not just you, Levi. I, too, admit that I am part of what happened…”

“Still, though, where did Mammon go?”

It was decided that they look for the white-haired man, with Diavolo granting them permission to cut classes. They tried to look at every place he would go, to all the casinos, Ristorante Six, they went to almost every part of Devildom but there was still no sign of him. Seeing as it’s already late in the night, they decided to retreat for now.

Back in the House of Lamentation, inside his room, Lucifer was observing his brothers return from their search. Holding his bottle of Demonus, he walked towards his scattered paperwork and turning up the volume of his cursed CD player. He could only watch as his pride stops him from doing anything.

“I should’ve NEVER followed you!!”

“Aaaagh!”

Sounds of shattering glass could be heard across his very messy room. Puddles of Demonus could be seen everywhere, staining the papers beside a very sober inhabitant. He could only wince as Mammon’s voice keeps ringing on his head.

Guilt was starting to swallow him, pain continually growing inside his chest. But he knows it was nothing compared to what Mammon suffered almost every day. He feared that he would lose another member of his family, an important member he’s so fond of since his times in Celestial Realm, and all of it was his fault.

It was high time his pride shattered.

Where could Mammon be? If his brothers couldn’t find him anywhere, then where was he? Well, there was still one place the brothers didn’t check, and that was the place where they all fell. In there, Mammon bawled his eyes out to the point that he was having a hard time breathing. At one point, he passed out.

But when he woke up, he realized where he needed to go. To the only place where he could be safe, where he could feel that he was loved. The human world.

There were ways of getting there, and he was not about to walk all the layers of Devildom. He would use the old method he usually does when witches would call him, and he wants to see you so much that he thinks it’s the only way.

Though prohibited, he was to break rules once again.

As soon as he got there, he heaved a sigh of victory. He thought that if he were to be in your arms again, he wouldn’t have to go back to the Devildom and face his brothers. Even if he was forced to go back, he would try to make a way to come back to you. You were his soulmate, his lucky charm, his treasure. He would never allow anyone to stop him from reaching you.

You were on the balcony one night when a crow fell right on your head. Thinking it was another of Mammon’s familiars, you quickly headed inside to write a letter.

“Y/N!”

“Mammon?!”

There he was, your first guy, sobbing into your arms.

You tried to calm him down by stroking his head, just like he loved it back in the Devildom. You never saw him tremble so much and cry so much, and when he started to calm down that was your moment to strike.

“What happened…?”

“L-Lucifer… He…”

He tried to answer as he held back sobs. The pain was just too much for him to bear.

“Why don’t we head outside? Have a little walk?”

As much as he wanted to rest with you, he didn’t have the energy to refuse. He quickly wiped his tears and brought his trademark shades to cover his puffy eyes. Both of you walked slowly hand in hand, content in the peace surrounding you both. Mammon knew it was the right thing to come to you, you really know how to make him feel better.

You both sat by the cold, grassy ground in a nearby park, and from there you could see the view of the city lights. You tried to divert Mammon’s attention to something else, and both of you had fun talking random stuff into the night.

When it was time for you to leave, you both turned around to see three figures standing in front of you. All were familiar, and all were looking at the now trembling white haired guy. One person in particular glared at him straight, with black hairs into a mess you’ve never seen before.

“Found you, dear brother.”

Part 3 coming soon!

Taglist: @obeythebutler @huaxxian @simping-hours-are-24-7 @kamiaka @breezethroughthesummertrees @sufzku @its-evelyn @garnetashblurb @raissatajra @undertaker-02 @strwbrryxprtzl @mammonangstsquad @thedum1

#obey me angst #obey me swd #obey me diavolo #obey me lucifer #obey me shall we date #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me satan #obey me beelzebub #obey me leviathan #mammon x reader #obey me mammon #mammon deserves better

[fluffydancer618]

I decided that I can’t live peacefully without writing ‘Boot to the Head meme but it’s rtumblr’ script in honor of me being dead in the purgatory for a day so yeah.

(and just before that keep in mind its genuinely /lh i just love this meme so much)

Aamit: As Fluffy’s therapist, I have been empowered to read Fluffy’s Last Will and Testament

Qil: Well, get on with it. The bars open soon

Hatcler, crying: Oh, poor dear Floof,,, WAAaAAaAhH-

Possum: Oh, there-there, Hatty...

Snek: Satan.. how predictably boring.

Copper: I never worked for a kinder man.

Aamit: If we all seated, I shall proceed with the reading

Snek: I knew it.

Qil: Heheheh

Aamit: ‘I, FluffyDancer618, being of sound mind and body-

Qil: HA! That’s a laugh!

Aamit: ‘-.. do hereby divide up my considerable estate as follows:’

Aamit: ‘To my overly emotional employee of the month, Hatcler-

Hatcler, still crying: WAAaAaHhHHH-

Possum: Hatty? They’re talking about us!

Hatcler, stopped crying: Oh.

Aamit: ‘-..who grubbed with his friend, Possum...’

Aamit: ‘..grubbed for everything they could get from me, then cried crocodile tears when I needed sympathy-

Hatcler: What..?

Aamit: ‘..- to Hatcler, I leave a boot to the head.’

Hatcler: A WHA- *sounds of boot to the head* OOW!!

Possum, worriedly: Hatcler, are you okay?!

Aamit: ‘And another boot to his marsupial friend, Possum.’

*sounds of boot to the head* 

Possum: OOOW!

Qil: *laughs*

Hatcler: THIS IS AN OUTRAGE!

Aamit: ‘Ah, but still.. you are my employee of the month. You have always admired my hat, and since I no longer need it-

Hatcler, excitedly: Oooh, dear Fluffy! They’re too kind!

Aamit: ‘- I bequeath.. another boot to the head.’

Hatcler: wHAT- *sounds of boot to the head*  OUCH!

Qil: *laughs harder*

Aamit: ‘And one more for the marsupial.’

*sounds of boot to the head*

Possum: OWWW!!!

Aamit: ‘Next to my sworn enemy.’

Qil: H-HEY! I don’t want no boot to the head..

Aamit: ‘To dear Qil, who has never lived a day without trying to kill me...’

Qil, panicing: I’M COVERING UP MY HEAD!

Aamit: ‘..I leave my two guns and collection of holy knives.’

Qil: R-really?

Aamit: ‘And a boot to the head.’

*sounds of boot to the head*

Qil: AUGH!!

Aamit: ‘And another for Hatcler and Possum.’

*sounds of boot to the head*

Hatcler: OUCH!

*sounds of boot to the head*

Possum: OUCH!

Aamit: ‘Next, to my know-it-all demon friend, Snek-’

Snek: This is so predictable.

Aamit: ‘- I leave a boot to the head.’

*sounds of boot to the head*

Snek: AUGH! Ǐ̵͚̭̯͆͒ ̵̖̰͜͝͠Ḱ̶̢́͜͝Ń̵̥̆͌Ȩ̵̺̩̂̌Ẅ̸̮́͘ ̵̼̎͌̌I̸̫̳͈̍Ț̵̦̥̏̔͝!̶̹̬͊!̸̬̥̜̋͌

Aamit: ‘And one for Hatcler and Possum.’

*sounds of boot to the head*

Hatcler: OOOUCH!!

*sounds of boot to the head*

Possum: OOUCH!!!

Aamit: ‘And now to Employee Copper...’

Copper: Hah? I don’t want nothing.

Aamit: ‘.. who worked for me faithfully these many, many years, who cared, made me laugh, gave good advice-’

Copper: Oh, I didn’t mind!

Aamit: ‘- To Employee Copper, I bequeath... a boot to the head.’

*sounds of boot to the head*

Copper: Ouch!

Aamit: ‘And one more for Hatcler and Possum.’

*sounds of boot to the head*

Hatcler: AAAAGH!

*sounds of boot to the head*

Possum: OOWWWWW!!

Aamit: ‘And so, to my father Rtcler, I leave my entire vast..’

Aamit: ‘boot to the head.’

*sounds of boot to the head*

Rtcler in the background: *sounds of pain in capitalism*

Aamit: ‘And finally, to my therapist, who has helped me on this will..’

Aamit: ‘.. I leave NOT a boot to the head-’

Aamit: ‘- but being shoved into a washing machinE ONCE AGAIN!?

Aamit, while spinning in the washing machine: AW-AW-AWA-A-’AANDILEAVEMYENTIREBOARDTOTHEPEOPLEOFRTUMBLRSOTHEYCOULDEASILYEXPLAINWTFISGOINGONHERETOANEWCOMERS!!’

Aamit: *got out of the washing machine* *inhale*

Possum: Is that it?!?!

Snek: That’s it?!

Qil: That’s disgraceful!

Aamit: There’s one last thing for everyone

Everyone:

Qil: COVER YOUR HEADS EVERYBODY!

Aamit: ‘I leave everyone a lifetime supply of ice cream. ^^ ’

Possum: Ice cream?

Qil: Ice cream..?

Snek: Ice cream? ..That’s all?

Aamit: That’s all.

Copper: Well... what flavor is it?

Aamit: BOOT TO THE HEAD!

*sounds of boot to the head sounds of boot to the head sounds of boot to the hea-*

Everyone: OW AUGH OUCH AH OWW UGH UH-

#once again /J /LH #rtumblr #if we account that i was 'revived' could you imagine what y'all would do to me in this scenario- #/j #welp. that longer than i expected ngl #long post

[holykillercake]

Barrels, Bets and Balls

pairing: Zoro x Drunk!Reader

word count: 1.9k

summary: The Straw hats are presented with millenary rum from an Ancient Giant Tribe and, well, no one is giving you that anymore. 

higlight:  ¨And then you said ¨maybe I should wear your underwear.¨

warning: Don´t read and drive. 

notes: HOLD MY BEER! Hi, guys! This was a lovely request from @roronoatrash for a drunk s/o! I have to say this is my first time writing a drunk character so I´m a bit nervous hahaha I really really hope you like it! Have fun and drink responsibly! <3 @vemuabhi​

𝕷𝖊𝖆𝖛𝖊 𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖘, 𝖗𝖊𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖘, 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊!

¨Agh!¨ you mumbled when you tried to lift your head from the pillow. It felt like the Thousand Sunny had run over you a thousand times. 

¨Hm?¨

¨Regret ... mhbeh ... thing...¨ your mouth was so dry that talking became almost impossible.  

¨What´s that?¨ Zoro asked, definitely amused by your deplorable state.

¨Hmmm... I don´t... regret... anything.¨

¨Of course you don´t. You don´t remember anything.¨ he shifted on the bed, making it look like a black hole was opening in the mattress. ¨Here, take this.¨ He handed you something.

¨I don´t need your pity... ma-marimo.¨

¨This is not pity, Y/N. This is a painkiller. Come on, you´re gonna feel better.¨

When he helped you to sit on the bed, you noticed something stuck to the window, preventing the sun from entering and blinding you. The greenette removed a few locks of hair that laid plastered across your face before helping you with the herculean task of taking the pill.  

¨If the stupid cook is not dead he must have made coffee.¨ he stood up, grabbing your slippers and placing them in front of you. 

In the meantime, your mind tried to gather whatever useful information you had to understand what had happened, but everything was a void blank. 

¨You ok?¨ he asked, hand on the doorknob. ¨Do you want me to bring it to you?¨

¨No, it´s ok...¨ you pinched the bridge of your nose, making one last effort to remember at least a crumb of the previous hours. You were fast to give up, though. ¨What happened?¨ 

¨Uhhh, you got drunk and passed out.¨ he said like it was no big deal. 

¨Hmm, ok...¨ you took a few seconds to digest his words ¨but when you say ´you´ you mean ´you me´ or ´you guys´?¨

A chuckle left his mouth ¨Come and you´ll see.¨ 

The sun shone high in the sky, forcing you to wince back into your room like the time you had your shadow stolen. You stumbled and lowered yourself to the floor, crawling away from the light. 

¨You go!¨ you said dramatically, covering your eyes ¨Run away and leave me! Tell everyone... that I fought until the last moment!¨

Zoro scoffed at your poorly performed scene, walking closer to you and squatting, back turned to you. ¨Hop, soldier. We don´t leave nakamas behind, right?¨

Your cheeks reddened with his gesture, and you hid your hungover smitten smile on the crook of his neck. ¨Hold tight, Y//N.¨

Oh, I will. Ouch, my head!

As soon as you reached the main deck, your eyes widened, ignoring the bright sun, and your mouth fell in a perfect O. 

¨Oh my freaking... what happened here?¨

If it weren't for the countless barrels, you would have easily thought that you had been chewed up by a sea king. 

The Straw Hats were scattered across the deck, mixed with garbage, blankets, and rolls of toilet paper. Their unorthodox positions would definitely grant them a stiff neck.

Zoro carried you to the kitchen where you found Usopp and Chopper talking at the kitchen table.

¨... like I fasted in a desert for forty nights, and then I survived... a buster call. And like... all of the battleships were pointed at me. And I was catching fire before that.¨ you heard Usopp whine to the doctor, who wrapped some bandages on him. 

¨Oi, who made coffee?¨ Zoro asked purposely loud.

¨SHHHH!¨ you and the sniper hissed at him.

¨Sanji did.¨ Chopper answered ¨Oh, Y/N, how are you feeling?¨

¨Like my heart is beating in my head.¨

¨At least there´s a heartbeat.¨ the swordsman replied, putting you close to a chair so you could take a seat. ¨Hm, Chopper, I saw the cook dead outside.¨

¨Yeah, he made coffee and then passed out again.¨ Chopper discreetly pointed at Usopp´s bandages. 

¨He passed out and spilled hot coffee on me!¨ he roared, stopping midway to whine. 

¨But you two look pretty good, though.¨ You referred to Chopper and Zoro. 

Not Usopp, definitely not Usopp. 

¨Night watch. I didn´t drink last night.¨ the doctor sighed, relieved. 

¨And I can handle my alcohol.¨ the greenette bragged, placing a steaming cup of coffee in front of you. 

¨What happened anyway?¨ 

¨Oh! You don´t remember too, Y/N? That millenary rum was really strong!¨ Chopper asked, fascinated by the effects of the beverage. 

¨Millenary rum?¨ 

¨Yeah! It was a gift from an Ancient Giant Tribe!¨ 

¨Giant tribe?¨ you kept repeating every word he said, double-checking to see if you were not hearing things. 

¨Y/N, what´s the last thing you remember?¨

¨Hmm, let me see...¨ you rested your elbows on the table, hands covering your eyes. Wow, even thinking hurts.

                                                <~>

¨I swear to God, Tony! When Luffy falls into the water, you can not jump after him!¨ you yelled, panting from climbing back to the ship and soaking wet of salty water. 

He pouted and whined. You only called him ¨Tony¨ when you were upset with him. 

¨So-Sorry Y/N... AaaAgh...¨ his voice trembled, and you couldn´t help but soften a little. 

¨Ugh, forget it.¨ you laid down on the grass and sighed, the reindeer on your belly ¨Are you alright, Chopper?¨

¨Y-Yeah...¨

Zoro emerged a few seconds later, carrying Luffy on his shoulder. 

You had engaged in a fight against some bandits who were causing trouble on an island called Gran Brabados. From what you could understand, they were descendants of the Ancient Giant Tribe who emancipated from Elbaf after years of conflict. 

¨I don´t wanna be rude, but¨ Usopp spoke to one of them ¨I thought giants were warriors. Like Broggy and Dory. Those guys fought for over 100 years!¨

¨Well, most of us are, but some are not. That's why we left Elbaf.¨ the giant said ¨We're not interested in war, we're interested in rum!¨

All of you stopped for a second, wondering if you heard the same thing.

¨Eh?¨ you spoke.

¨We don´t make war! We make rum!¨ he threw his huge hands in the air, chest puffing out of pride.

¨Oi, really? Give us some!¨ Zoro immediately threw Luffy on the floor and ran towards the giant. Next thing you knew, the giant burst into laughter. 

¨Gabababa!¨ he hunched as he laughed ¨Sorry, but tiny people like you can't handle it! Gababababa!¨

You were not sure what offended you the most, he calling you all, who just saved their asses, weak or having to dodge the huge drops of saliva that came out of his mouth. 

After insisting a lot, he ended up giving in, presenting the straw hats with barrels and barrels of millenary rum. Yeah, millenary. Rum distilled for one thousand years, or at least that is what he said. 

The celebration didn´t take long to begin. Because Luffy had decided to set sail that same day, you would all be bathed with a pleasant sunset as you partied.

¨Wow!¨ you shouted after chugging the first tankard. ¨Oooohh, this is good booze!¨ you shook your head, already feeling the kick. 

¨Girl, you should go easy on this. It´s super strong.¨ Franky said, making you scoff at him, possessed by some waspish Viking demon.

¨And here I thought you were hard-boiled.¨ 

¨What?¨ 

¨O-Oi, Y/N...¨ Usopp said, worried, sipping his drink. 

¨Haven´t you learned anything with Tom-san?¨ you clicked your tongue ¨Meh, I guess I´ll be the one making things with a DON around here!¨ you chugged more of the rum. 

The shipwright glared at you with a red beam coming out of his left eye. You remember questioning yourself for a second. Maybe you had said too much, but it was just for a brief second before you insulted someone else. 

Back at the kitchen table, flashes of the events from the last night began to pop in your mind. Guilt and embarrassment gushed over you, making you twist and cringe. 

¨And then you said ¨maybe I should wear your underwear.¨ Chopper shivered as he quoted your words.

¨Nooo...¨ you cried out.

¨It gets worse, Y/N.¨

¨What?! How?!¨

¨Because after that,¨ Zoro started to speak, and you saw him struggle to stop a smile from cracking. That was not a good sign. ¨you said "your balls are so small Robin could have grabbed them with one hand!¨ 

The men laughed and slapped the table as you looked for a place to bury your head or a knife to stab yourself in the heart. 

¨WHY DIDN´T YOU STOP ME?¨ you yelled, pulling your boyfriend by the collar and shaking him. 

He placed a hand on your forehead, a silly thing he did every time you got too nervous. ¨Oi, you´re a big girl. You know what you´re doing.¨ 

¨Noo, obviously I don´t!¨ He smiled. 

He would not be the one to tell you, but he did have to stop Franky from Radical Beam-ing the hell out of you several times. For some reason, you were very keen on insulting the cyborg's masculinity. 

Another thing he wouldn´t tell you was that he didn´t touch the rum in the last night. He decided to remain sober and look after you, making sure you would not kill someone or get yourself killed. 

However, despite all the trouble you gave him, he recognized your strength. Straw hat after straw hat, you managed to defeat everyone in a stupid drinking contest. 

The biggest achievement was to drag Luffy into the game since he dislikes the taste of alcohol. When he denied being part of it, you teased him by saying,¨I think you are just scared, Luffy. You know what, maybe I should be the Captain of this ship! Maybe, I will be the Pirate King!¨

That was about the sixth punch Zoro took for you. Or because of you. 

The darker the night fell, the wilder you all got. And then insults began to come from every direction to every direction. You were arguing, then laughing, then crying and apologizing. If it wasn´t for Zoro, Chopper would have had a heart attack. 

¨Nami, you thief! Give me back my queen, or I´ll be forced to shoot a Bidori Moshi at you!¨ Usopp yelled, holding a bunch of cards in his hands. 

¨Oi, Usopp! How dare you speak with a lady like that?! I´ll kick you in the face!¨

¨Bring it on, Sanji! I eat eggplants like you for breakfast every day! AND IT´S GOD USOPP FOR YOU!¨

¨Zoro...¨ Chopper cried, falling close to where the swordsman was sitting. ¨W-What are we going to do?¨

¨Uh? Ah, sit back and relax. You know these guys, they are ju-¨

¨Y/N-san, may I see your panties?¨

¨Well, too bad for you I´m not weari-¨

¨OI! Y/N!¨ Zoro dashed over, throwing you on his shoulder. 

That was about the first punch Brook took for you. Or, again, because of you. 

And then, as the number of biological hazards began to decline, managing the situation became easier and easier. Chopper took care of the fallen drunken, and Zoro threw blankets over them.

In the end, it was you and Luffy. You were still arguing about the things you said earlier. Both of you were exhausted but didn´t want to give in. The argument only ended when you withdrew your words, saying that he would be the one to become King of the Pirates.

Luffy fell dead asleep immediately, and Zoro took the cue to approach you. ¨Hey, Y/N. Our time, let´s go?¨

You turned to him and nodded, red cheeks and tired eyes. He had to scoop you up and carry you back to your room since your legs were not part of the equation anymore, and you would let go and fall every time he tried to carry you on his back. 

¨Heeey, you´re not drunk!¨ you whined, almost falling asleep. ¨Why aren´t you drunk?¨

¨Cause you drank everything.¨

¨Noo, I can find s´more.¨ you uncovered yourself, trying to get out of bed.

¨I bet you can.¨ he said, covering you again and pulling you closer.

The warmth of his body, altogether with his hand gently rubbing your back, made your system shut down. 

¨You know... I can kick your ass... in a drinking contest...¨

¨Yeah,¨ he chuckled ¨I bet you can.¨

That was definitely not true, but for you, well, for you he could pretend it was.

#one piece #oneshot #worst generation #zoro #roronoa zoro #zoro roronoa x reader #zoro x reader #franky #usopp #chopper #luffy #nami #brook #thousand sunny #elbaf #rum #pirate king #opfanfic

[pengychan]

[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.

***

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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

[unseeliefaelass]

Darksiders: Origins

Chapter 5: Losing Innocence

Lilith took over the brunt of the operation from Ale as she'd insinuated previously. Only having Ale around for things like ailments, feeding, and child rearing that didn't involve her teaching them anything. Course Lilith did allow her one piece of leniency. If only because Menahem was taking a bit longer to respond to the pods and Lilith's magics to enhance their aging. Ale made sure not to push the boundaries Lilith placed up, mainly for her Father's sake. However, she wouldn't let up elsewhere in fear Menahem wouldn't thrive. Absalom luckily did get the lad walking easily enough, and talking was only hastened from there. From there Lilith finally allowed a time for her children to interact with each other. Wanting to ensure their bond was strong early on. Each of them being the equivalent of Preschoolers in age. All except Menahem who only got as far as a toddler in age before Lilith gave up using her magic on him. Luckily his closeness to Absalom made bonding with the others a little easier. He was noticeably shy around his sisters; Lazuli, Jadeite, Sio, Onyx, Opal, and Pyrite. Though he was a little curious about Sio. The now older girl did hear him as he approached, but her eyes never developed sight. So blind she had remained, though she did glance his direction. Spotting his smaller outline when compared to her brothers and sisters. After the two acknowledged each other's presence, one of their brothers, Methuselah, stepped over. He surveyed the two silently before sticking around. The three awkwardly observed each other in silence, Sio having the harder time of them, as the others mingled. Lazuli and Jadeite formed a clique with Opal and Onyx quickly. Though much to Ale's concern and Lilith's delight, Lazuli was quick to establish a pecking order. With herself on top, Jadeite following after, then Opal with Onyx on the bottom. At least it started like that before Onyx proved stronger than Opal and Jadeite funnily enough.

The little fight worried Ale, but Lilith raised her hand to stop her, "I won't be needing your kind of interference. If I need any at all, Absalom can break them apart. For now, let them sort it out themselves."

"What if they get hurt?"

"They'll get hurt anyway as adults. Best they learn how to manage it now. The injuries at that age will happen more often, and be much greater. I'd like my little warriors to learn how to take it early on. What good is a warrior who can't handle pain after all?" Lilith chided.

Ale stood back as directed, but truly was at a loss for words. She couldn't begin to imagine the little toddler she'd been caring for becoming so violent. She also observed the two boys that were closest, Cedron and Hebron, laughing together as the girls fought it out. It didn't seem to matter how much Onyx bit and punched Jadeite and Opal before they backed down finally. Not to say Jadeite and Opal weren't vicious themselves. With Jadeite using her environment and Opal using Onyx's body against her. Well as best she could for someone her age anyway. Course when Onyx turned her attention to Lazuli, the blue eyed child had little issue with her. Lazuli zipped around the room they were in, dodging each attack from Onyx and throwing taunts her way. Eventually Onyx was too worn out to continue and begrudgingly conceded with being a lackie to her sister. Lilith's smirk only grew wider as the biggest boy Urias stepped up to test Lazuli. Lazuli at first sicked the still out of breath Onyx at him, only for that to quickly prove a failure. Opal and Jadeite recovered just enough to try helping, again at Lazuli's commands. Urias defeated them just as easily as Onyx. Using his greater strength and fists to great affect against them. Menahem hid behind Sio as Methuselah seemed itching to join in.

Urias then taunted his sister, "Seems all you can do is run away and taunt. You even send minions at me! Too afraid I'll mess up your face sister? Don't have enough strength to fight me?"

"I didn't need it for Onyx, I won't need it for you." Lazuli stated defiantly.

"Ha! Onyx is a weakling compared to me. Why don't you prove you're better than me yourself huh? If you really don't need better strength than me."

Lazuli smirked before circling her brother, "I have nothing to prove. I'm already Mother's favorite, so what are you? If not just a brute who's only good at bashing like a dumb troll. I'll bet even hags like old Black Annis would crush you."

"SHUT UP! You won't be Mama's favorite long if all you can do is be a blabbermouth. Mama wants warriors, not talking and doing nothing!"

Lazuli giggled at him, "You're calling her Mama. Mother doesn't like that. If anyone's out of favor it's you Urias. You're throwing a tantrum like you're Menahem's size."

Urias gave the mightiest battle cry a child his age could before charging his sister. Lazuli only giggled again before unleashing a sudden blast of psychic energy at him. Urias hit the wall so hard he wasn't moving much beyond groaning in pain.

Lilith clapped her hands, "Bravo. Very well done indeed. Though it seems you need a new opponent.", she then looked to Cedron and Hebron, "You two haven't done anything yet. So come here and be useful now."

The boys stood side by side in response as they prepared themselves. Not being nearly as confident as before. Lazuli just laughed at them, "What's wrong funny boys? Scared you'll end up like Urias the troll? Splattered against the wall like a bug."

"We're not scared. We just know what you can do Lazuli, and we respect that. I just think if we're gonna show Mother our best, you should give us a fair chance.", Cedron explained cockily.

Hebron nodded, "Yeah what Cedron said. But we should also ask Mother for ideas too. Surely she wants to see what we all can do right? So let's see how she thinks we should do it first."

Lazuli smirked and looked to her Mother eagerly for an answer. Lilith took but a moment consider the boys' offer, finding herself amused but pleased that they deferred to her. Meaning these two would be easier to control. She smiled and told the boys, "I think you're right. Though perhaps Lazuli should take a break. She's shown me so much already. You boys haven't yet, and need a proper chance on top of it."

Methuselah stepped up in response, "I've been waiting for an opportunity Mother. I go at your command."

"I see. Well then you shall have your chance as well Methuselah. But will you fight Cedron and Hebron alone? Or shall I have you partnered with Sio? To make things more..fair to your brothers?"

"But Mother...Sio is blind she'll...AAAAGH!", Methuselah began to say before Lilith grabbed his ear. Her claws tearing it a bit and drawing blood as he screamed in pain.

She then drew close, too close for Ale's comfort and whispered coyly to the boy, "Now now my son, is that any way to speak to me? Just for that, you get no choice. Your sister fights with you at my command. Am I clear?"

The boy froze in her grasp before telling her shakily, "Y-yes Mother...I w-won't question you again."

Lilith's grip only tightened more as she growled quietly this time, "I can't hear you child."

"YES MOTHER! I won't question you again!", Methuselah screamed at her in fear.

Only then did Lilith release him, and looked over at the two remaining children. Sio had just the same fearful look on her face, before being dragged to her brother's side by her now impatient Mother. Menahem glared and growled quietly at Lilith, getting a bemused snicker in response from the woman, "You will have your chance little one. For now, it's your brother and sister's turn."

Menahem about charged her before Absalom grabbed him, "At ease little one. In time you'll understand how it goes with Mother. Keep your anger in check, save it for when you need it most. She may set you up against Lazuli if you're not mindful." The toddler then glanced at Lazuli who smirked at him eagerly, frightening him. Absalom made sure to hide his reaction with his body and stared Lazuli down so she'd keep quiet. He knew she would through the suddenly fearful expression, "Good. She knows her place under me as well."

Absalom predicted Methuselah and Sio wouldn't do as well as the self-decided twins. Though he did hope they'd at least satisfy Lilith well enough. The brutality wasn't nearly as bad as Lazuli's breed of it, but it was still or terrible thing to witness. Sio was taunted with her blindness by the boys effortlessly, having no clear idea how to fight physically to begin with. Even when using magic she wasn't accurate enough to hit her much faster, and more accurate brothers. Methuselah faired only slightly better than Sio. Absalom could only guess he'd have done much better if the boy didn't focus on being protective of Sio. This allowed the twins to have more openings against him. By the end of it, Sio was bruised severely with only the occasional cut thanks to Methuselah's protection. Unfortunately he himself had taken on the brunt for his chosen role. Being full on cut and sliced alongside his own bruises. His leg was also broken, which ended his ability to continue fighting that day. Sio would've kept going despite her condition from what Absalom saw as the girl kept fighting to stay standing. Only for both brothers to use a shared cord to choke her until she nearly passed out. Lilith only stopped the fight then, seemingly out of boredom more than anything else.

Her only words for both children were, "Worthless. The both of you.", Then her attention settled on the twins, "Now you two WILL face each other next. The one who loses this fight, will fight Menahem next. He is small, so he's not yet worthy of fighting you at your best."

Menahem growled again before Absalom hushed him once more. He then watched as the brothers finally hesitated. Looking at each other in apprehension, before holding their ears shut as Lilith slid her nails across a metal pipe nearby. Absalom, Ale, and the others also held their ears at that. After the reminder of their weaker brother's fate was given to them, the twins finally separated. Cedron was the stronger twin physically, where as Hebron was the more intelligent one. The fight was more evenly matched than expected however, and lasted quite a while. Yet in the end, Hebron could only plan so far and so well. When he concocted a tactic that would've ended things at last, he hesitated on a blow that could've been fatal had he continued. Not wanting to hurt his twin brother. This gave Cedron the upper hand he needed to wrestle Hebron into a hold he couldn't escape. Hebron was only released at Lilith's request, just as bones began to crack. Hebron was given no time for rest or reprieve however as Lilith forced him to his feet.

She then looked at Absalom, "I know he's behind you, now send him over. My patience wears thin."

"Go on Menahem, just do your best for Mother. I know you are capable of beating him. All you need to do is resort to the tactics I have shown you. As well as the others your caregivers have shown you. And finally in order to protect yourself even more so, use your instincts. Even if you abhor them, your life may depend on it. Hebron may not be so keen to hold back for you as he did for Cedron. He might take his inner rage out on you. Use what you've been saving to throw it right back at him in return.", Absalom told him calmly before letting an annoyed Lilith know, "Felt he should be given a slight bit of advice before this fight, due to his size."

Lilith narrowed her eyes before dismissively yet coyly saying, "Very well, I will accept that. I was left little choice to begin with. You and I will..discuss it later Absalom. For now, we have the final fight. Ready yourselves my warriors, and we shall see if little Menahem can prove his worth, or if Hebron redeems himself of his failure. Absalom looked very much uncomfortable to Ale now. She couldn't tell whether it was because of Lilith's tone, or because of the fight to come.

#Darksiders: Origins #Darksiders Fandom #Darksiders Fanfics #Darksiders OCs #Lilith #Absalom #Little Death #Possible Trigger Warning #Possible Lord of Flies Type Scenario

[butnobodycame627]

The Frog And His Son

A fantasy AU about Virgil running away from home and finding Lilypadton by a pond. If people like this, I might write more, we'll see. I'm going to be working on some character designs and art for this soon, so I hope people like this?

Sorry that this is really short, I had written more, but it didn't feel fitting to this chapter, so I didn't add it. I'm really bad at deciding when a chapter is too long or short or makes sense aaaagh.

Chapter One: Runaway

It was cold... wet... dark... foggy... The teenager could barely see anything surrounding him. He was afraid. He did not know what he was doing, but believed it was too late to turn back. He just had to keep running.

The rain poured down on him, his hood just barely shielding his face. He normally liked the rain, but he could not appreciate it at that moment.

He could barely see anything and that made it dangerous to run. He did not notice the rock in front of him and found himself tripping and falling into a pond. As if the rain was not enough, he was now drenched.

"Ugh..." He grumbled, shaking his head. "What am I gonna do...?" The boy pondered, staring at his reflection.

He had only now noticed his makeup had been ruined, his hair was a mess, he looked absolutely exhausted, there was a giant frog in front of him, he was crying, he-

"Wait, wh-" He glanced up at the beast before him. For a moment, he considered that it could be friendly. Then he ignored that thought and screamed in horror.

He crawled away as quickly as he could, getting his hands dirty from the nearby mud puddle. How could he outrun that thing? Especially when he was already tired?

As he started running, he noticed that he did not hear large footsteps behind him. It was silent except for his heavy breathing and the rain falling from above.

"Are... you not gonna kill me?" He asked, turning to face the creature.

It shook its head in disbelief. "Of course no-"

He screamed as soon as it spoke, unfamiliar with giant talking frogs. He rarely saw beasts of this sort and did not realize that they spoke English.

"Not! Of course not! That was never my intention!" It spoke over the boy's screams, trying to reassure him that he was safe. "Are you alright, kiddo?"

An anxious mess, he responded "No. No I'm not."

He slowly walked back towards the frog, careful not to trip. He needed company at that moment.

"Everything feels so bad right now that I guess I just thought that you were bad, too...." He sighed. "I'm so scared..."

The frog nodded in understanding. "It'll be alright. I promise."

"Thanks..."

—————————

The storm eventually passed, sun rising over a hill. The boy had fallen asleep beside the creature, so it had to move carefully to prevent waking him. It looked around to find food for him, hoping to surprise him with a meal of some kind.

Shortly after it had walked away, the teenager woke up and glanced around him. It took him a moment to remember where he was. He remembered this pond, right, the pond... Wasn't there something else?

Either way, he should probably go back home, right? He had nowhere else to go, he could never survive out here on his own. Maybe things would work out if he just talked to them-

He heard loud footsteps that made the ground shake. What was that? A dragon? A demon? A beast of some sort?

He saw something green approaching him, setting something down in front of him.

"I found some berries in a forest near here!" It said with a smile.

He had forgotten about the frog. Or rather he had believed it was a dream and pretended it had never happened.

"I know it's not much, but I wanted you to have something to eat." The frog seemed nice enough so far, which made him feel better about this mess. Maybe he did not need to go home. He could just stay with this frog.

"Thank you... so much..." He said, picking up a berry. "You're sure this isn't poisonous?"

"Pretty sure. If you're not willing to try, we can start looking now." It shrugged.

"Looking...? For what?" The boy dropped the berry, looking up at the creature.

"For your home. You're lost, right? That's how you ended up here?" It explained, now sounding a little doubtful. "I was gonna help you get back home."

"... Right." He nodded. "Yeah, of course, I can go back..." He shifted uncomfortably in place, trying to figure out what to do. "I... I should go!" He started running again, this time back where he came from.

"Wait! I didn't mean to offend you, sorry if I did!" The frog shouted from behind him. "Are you not lost?!"

He stopped running. "No. Maybe. I dunno. I think I know the way back from here."

"But is that the reason you were scared?" It specified.

"No. No, it's not."

The frog sat down beside him. "You don't have to go if you don't want to. I just thought you'd prefer to be back home."

"... I'd like to stay. But maybe try to find food that you're sure isn't poisonous." He smiled at the thought of this. It would be strange, but he did not want to go back. At least not yet.

"Alright, kiddo. You got it." The frog hoped that he would explain more later, but did not want to bother him.

#sanders sides #lilypadton #virgil sanders #patton sanders #sanders sides au #thomas sanders #bnc627 writing #the frog and his son #tfahs #I know this isn't good and I know no one will read this aaaagh #i hate when I work hard on something and it doesn't get noticed #but this unfortunately happens all the time =/ #no one reads my writing even though I work really hard on it #so I’ve just kind of assumed it's because my writing is horrible

[saiilorstars]

Falling in Temptation

Previous chapters || Sequel to Stars Dance

Fandom: Doctor Who

Pairing: 11th Doctor x Female OC

~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~

Ch. 10: Reality

Chapter summary: Two Doctors would usually mean things would get solved quicker, but not this time. The gangers and humans are raging war against each other and now it's a race to find the TARDIS and escape with their lives. On the side, Avalon is determined to get the only piece of honesty she can get right now and it can only come from the Doctor.

Fairy Tale Memoirs (Companion story)

As soon as the ganger Doctor said spoken his first words to the group, he erupted into massive shouts of pain. "What's happening?" His words, his shouts, were all mixed up as if he was living through different moments. "I wonder if we'll get back. Yes, one day... Aaagh! I've reversed the polarity of the neutron flow!"

"What is he doing?" the Sapling cocked his head each time the ganger turned.

The Doctor tried helping the ganger but there was really nothing he could do at the moment, "'The Flesh is struggling to cope with our past regenerations. Hold on!"

"Don't you have like a billion of those?" Amy called in, making the Doctor momentarily pause to glare at her.

"No!"

"Would you like a jelly-baby?" the ganger Doctor questioned in his 4th incarnation's voice, "Why? Why!?"

"Why do they keep saying that?" Avalon suddenly asked, getting the glances of everyone, "I mean...that's what ganger Jennifer said too, remember Amy?" the second ginger had to agree with a nod, "What does it mean?"

"'Why' what?" the Doctor finally asked his ganger self, taking in Avalon's words and having to agree as well.

"Hello. I'm the Doctor," the ganger replied instead, using his 10th's self's voice, "No, let it go, we've moved on!"

"Oh!" Avalon snapped her fingers, suddenly beaming. "That's the one that went to New Earth!"

"Ava, not the time!" went the Doctor, but she mimicked his voice instead of agreeing.

"I'm never gonna meet him so I'll take what I can get!"

The Doctor's face might as well have stayed in a glare because it seemed like Avalon and Amy were taking turns making unnecessary comments.

"I've reversed the jelly-baby of the neutron flow. Would you like a..." the ganger grabbed the Doctor by the lapels, "Doctor...Doctor... I'm... I'm the... I can't."

"No, listen, hold on. Hold on!" the Doctor tried reassuring the ganger but was shoved away.

"No-o-o-o! Aaaagh!" the ganger showed his flesh-state face to the others.

"Doctor, we need you. Get over here," Amy called to the Doctor, taking cautious steps towards him with Avalon.

The ganger slowly stopped moving until he came to a complete stop. His hands fell from his head and came to adjust the bowtie around his neck. "Hello," he gave a wave with his hand.

"Hi!" the Sapling returned the gesture with a beam on his face.

"Cybermats," the Doctor crossed his arms and faced his ganger self. They really did look identical - it was really weird.

The ganger seemed to catch on and sighed, "Do we have time for this?"

"We make time. I'd like more proof that you're me. Cybermats?"

"Created by the kill by feeding off brainwaves."

Amy gave up trying to get the Doctor's attention and ran back to the door with the other factory workers. Avalon was a bit more awed by the situation but was nonetheless scared as well, so she hurried to the door.

"Don't you have guns somewhere?" was the first thing she asked the factory workers.

"Yeah, big guns would be good right now," Buzzer sucked some breath and nodded.

Jimmy was leaning against the door, a last resort to keep it shut against the gangers, "Why would we have guns? We're a factory. We mine."

"Get back!" Amy yelled as they heard a hissing sound along and saw smoke coming through the door.

"We are completely done for," Avalon declared as they all stepped back. She rolled her eyes at the conversation she was hearing from behind, "Are you two done yet?" she spun around to where the Doctors were, even Amy doing the same, "There's two of you yet still nothing gets done!"

"First of all," the Doctor headed for them and wagged a finger at Avalon. "Shut up!"

"Second of all," his ganger followed in suit with the same finger pointed at Avalon, "...still, shut up."

Avalon raised her eyebrows. Did they seriously think that because there were two of them they could win against her? Absolutely not. She folded her arms across her chest and smirked. "Two of you and you still can't come up with good comebacks. Truly sad. How many brains you got again?"

"Enough with the games," Amy sighed, "There's a problem that needs solving!"

"Breathe," was the Doctors' reply for her.

"What?"

"We have to get you off this island," the ganger Doctor looked at the not-so-well barricaded door.

"And the gangers too."

"Um, Doctor, I'm all for life, but the gangers are trying to kill us," Avalon pointed to the door where the acid could be clearly seen. She barred the Sapling from getting closer.

"They're scared, Ava, that's all," the Doctor assured.

"We're trapped in here," Amy also reminded.

"I don't think so. The Flesh Bowl is fed by cabling from above."

"But where are the earthing conduits?" the ganger Doctor asked.

"All this piping must go down into a tunnel or a shaft or something, yes? With us?" the Doctor headed for a large panel at the other end of the room, "Yowza!" he cheered as he removed the paneling to find a grate. "An escape rout."

Amy glanced at Avalon, mouthing 'Yowza' questioningly at her. Avalon made a face and shrugged, never understanding the Doctor most of the time.

"You know, I'm starting to get a sense of just how impressive it is to hang out with me," the Doctor smugly looked around the room.

"Do we tend to say "Yowza"?" his ganger genuinely wondered.

"Nope!" the Sapling turned around to answer. "Although you did used to say 'Allons-y' for some reason."

Avalon laughed and shot the two Doctors a look. "You did what!? Who did that?"

"I'd rather not answer," the Doctor turned his head away, intending on taking that secret to the grave. It was unfortunate that the Sapling did not agree.

"His last incarnation!"

"Sapling!" the Doctor frowned, feeling completely betrayed by the child.

"Ah, see, that's the one we need to meet!" Avalon sighed in true content, which did make the Doctor be a little less upset. It was better to have her laughing, even if it was at him, than to have her crying.

Just as the entire group managed to get inside, the gangers broke through the door. As they reached the grate, they saw the group at the grate where the Doctor sonicked the locks.

~ 0 ~

The group hurried down the tunnels after getting out of the grate. There was acid everywhere and it was making it difficult to get across without being touched.

"The army will send a recon team," Buzzer said to them.

"We need to contact the mainland," Cleaves reminded him.

"What about Rory and Jen? They are both out there," Amy stressed as she looked around in case they were somewhere nearby. Unfortunately, they weren't that lucky.

"This is a like a labyrinth," Avalon sighed, already having given up looking around their immediate areas. She held the Sapling's hand in hers, tightly, but she wasn't sure who was more afraid at this point.

"I bet you lot have got a computer map," the Doctor looked at Cleaves questioningly.

"If we can get power running, we can scan for them," the woman agreed but couldn't say more as they all started violently coughing.

"Doctor, you said earlier to breathe," Amy covered her mouth.

"Very important, Pond. Breathe," he stood by his statement.

"Yeah, I'm struggling to."

"Acid interacting with the stone," the Doctor managed to explain.

"Creating an asphyxiant miasma," his ganger finished thankfully.

"In English?" Avalon raised am eyebrow.

"Chokey gas. Extra heavy. If we can get above it..."

"The evac tower," Cleaves resolved and started leading the way, "This way!"

They entered a room full of machinery which was they assumed was the control room. As the Doctors got straight to work, the humans took a moment to end their cough.

"Ohh! I think I coughed so hard, I pulled a muscle or something," Amy remarked as she struggled to stand straight.

A bell chimed in the distance which made Jimmy sober up rather quick, "It's midnight. It's Adam's birthday. My son's five. Happy birthday, bud."

"Best present for him would be getting home," Avalon sighed and put a hand on her back as she stood correctly, "How we doing over there?" she called to the working aliens.

"Trying to get the power back," the original Doctor replied, "There's always some power floating around."

"Sticking to the wires, like bits of lint," the ganger Doctor popped up from behind the console.

Amy frowned, "Can you stop finishing each other's..."

"Sentences?" the Doctor finished, "No probs."

"Yes," the ganger nodded and both ducked down behind the console again.

"Confused as hell," Avalon commented with a resigned sigh, "You - well, one of you - said that the TARDIS was stuck in acid, so won't she be damaged?"

One of the Doctors stood up again, but neither Avalon nor Amy (nor the Sapling for that matter) knew who was who. "Nah. She's a tough old thing. Tough, old, sexy."

"No," the other Doctor stood up, "Tough, dependable, sexy."

"Come on. OK, how can...how can you both be real?" Amy felt like her head would spin if they continued to do that. She glanced at Avalon and saw the latte was more or less feeling the same. Only the Sapling seemed to be enjoying the situation.

"Well, because...we are. I'm the Doctor," went one of the pair.

"So am I," went the other, "We contain the knowledge of over 900 years of experience. We both wear the same bowtie, which is cool."

"Because bowties are..."

"And always will be."

"Stop it!" Avalon cut in with exasperation, "You weren't linked up to the Flesh so how did that work, exactly?"

"It must've been after I examined it," the original Doctor answered, "Thus, a new, genuine Doctor was created."

"Ta-da!" the ganger exclaimed.

"You mean I could've had a ganger too!?" the Sapling gasped at the idea as he recalled how close he'd been to the Flesh as well.

"No," Avalon shot him a look.

"Quite right," the Doctor agreed. "You were behind me, Sapling. I think it's better like that, though. Who knows what kind of ganger you would've gotten."

"It would've been cool," the Sapling mumbled, quite disappointed.

"But one of you was here first," Amy's pointed finger moved from one alien to the other.

"After the Flesh scanned me, I had an accident with a puddle of acid. Now new shoes, a situation which did not confront me learned self here."

"That satisfy you, Pond?" the ganger raised an eyebrow, "Ava?"

"Don't call me Pond, please," Amy said quietly as she moved around. She stepped beside Avalon when both Doctors looked at her. They were examining her as if she were some new experiment. "What?"

"Interesting," the ganger Doctor said, "You definitely feel more affection for him than me."

"No, I..." Amy could see why they would think that and felt uncomfortable having to explain. It should be obvious that she wasn't doing it to be mean. It was just natural. "Look, you're fine and everything, but he is the Doctor. No offence. Being almost the Doctor is pretty damn impressive."

"Being almost the Doctor's like being no Doctor at all," the ganger snapped.

"Don't overreact," Amy frowned.

"Well you are being rude," Avalon mumbled to her and received an elbow jabbed on her side, "Ow!"

"And what about you?" the ganger looked at the pained ginger.

"What about me?" she rubbed her side and glared at Amy.

"Do you think I'm real?"

"Being real is not the problem I have with you," blurted Avalon who then quickly covered her mouth, "Sorry."

"Ava," even the original Doctor was mildly surprised.

"Wha...she's the one who said you weren't real," Avalon pointed at Amy in a quick attempt to distract him.

"Yeah, thanks Avalon," Amy muttered, shooting her a glare.

"Oh shut up, you dug your own hole," Avalon snapped then sighed, dropping her hand from her side. "Look, I didn't mean for it to come out like that..."

"What were you trying to say, then?" the ganger was still snappy, which only made her frown.

"Listen, if you're really the same then you know exactly what my problem is. And just so we're clear, it's with both of you."

"Sounds like Father is in trouble," the Sapling announced. Avalon nodded her head, humming in agreement.

"I'm going to pull the 'I literally just came to life' card right now," the ganger Doctor happily said as it did free him of any problems. And even more, it made Avalon chuckle.

The Doctor watched with a frown as his ganger practically yanked Avalon's hand, bringing her far too close to him. What did he think he was doing? Avalon was smiling like she wasn't angry with them two seconds ago.

"Well, I guess I can't be that mad with you," Avalon bobbed her head while she pretended to think. "But you can't use that line all the time."

"I'll come up with better ones," the ganger promised her then winked. Avalon might have blushed.

The original Doctor wasn't very pleased with the interaction and did the only thing he could do, "Communication a go-go!" he slammed his hand on the console repeatedly to break them up, succeeding easily.

"Can it find Rory?" Avalon quickly forgot the situation as she and Amy ran for the computer screen, though the ganger Doctor shot his original a look for his obvious attempt. The Doctor ducked his head with the controls. He needed to work, after all.

Cleaves was already maneuvering the screen by the time the gingers got to her, "There's no sign of him anywhere."

"Come on, baby, show yourself," Amy insisted.

~ 0 ~

After a while of checking the scans for Rory and Jennifer, Cleaves decided to activate a transmission for the mainland, "St John's calling. Emergency Alpha. St John's calling the mainland. Are you receiving me, Captain? Come in'," but there wasn't an answer back, "We'll never get a signal through this storm. St John's calling the mainland. Come in, this is urgent."

"'We're just about reading you, St John's. How are you doing? We've had all kinds of trouble here'."

"'Request immediate evacuation. We're under attack. The storm's affected our gangers. They're running amok."

"'Your gangers?'"

"Yes, our gangers are attacking us. We need you to take us off the island immediately and wipe them out."

The two Doctors looked at each other with concern, that wasn't part of the plan and Cleaves knew it.

"'Copy that, St John's. Shuttle's dispatched. Hang on'."

"You'll need to airlift us off the roof of the evac tower. And Captain, any further transmission sent by me must come with the following code word. I'm typing it, in case they're listening in.'

'"Got it. We'll swing in, get you out and decommission the Flesh'.

"We've got to get out of here," Buzzer said immediately after the transmission had been cut off.

"But we can't leave without Rory nor Jennifer," Avalon reminded him.

"We're not leaving without them," Amy firmly said.

"I want 'em found too, but it's about casualties, innit?" he raised an eyebrow at the two gingers, "Can't be helped."

"Well you're going to have to cope because we're not going anywhere without them," Avalon declared.

"What are you doing?" Amy had noticed the Doctor sitting in one of the chairs at the console typing away. She moved closer and observed the screen.

"Making a phone call," the Doctor answered distractedly.

"Who to?"

"No-one yet. It's on delay."

"Right, not getting it. Why exactly are you making a phone call?"

"Because, Amy, I am and always will be the optimist, the hoper of far-flung hopes and the dreamer of improbable dreams. The wheels are in motion. Done."

"I dream of getting out of here," Avalon sighed, "And as quick as possible."

"Will be taken care of," the Doctor pointed at her assuredly.

The Sapling had noticed Amy staring at something across the room. He came to stand beside her and tried to catch whatever it was she was looking at, but he couldn't find anything. He then realized that Amy hadn't even noticed he was standing right there. "Aunt Amy?" he tapped her arm and watched her jump in place. "What's wrong? What were you looking at?"

Amy rubbed her eyes and gazed at the wall she'd been staring at. Nope, no eye-patch woman there. Why did she keep seeing that woman? Was it some effect from the TARDIS?

"Amy?" the Doctor called now once he saw how pale she was. "What happened?"

Amy didn't know if she would sound crazy but she had to get it off her chest. She'd been carrying the secret with her for a while now and for some reason, she felt like now it was getting worse. She kept seeing the woman by the hour. "I can't take it anymore!" she exclaimed. "It's her! I keep seeing her!"

"What is she talking about?" Avalon inched behind the Doctor. Like the Sapling, Avalon gazed at the wall but found nothing.

"There's a woman I keep seeing, a woman with an eye-patch, and she has this habit of sliding walls open and staring at me," Amy frantically explained and missed the reactions of both Doctors.

"Is that like a movie?" the Sapling glanced at his Mother for the answer.

"Not one I've seen," the ginger promptly responded. She checked to see what the Doctor thought but noticed how unsurprised he was. "Doctor?"

"It's nothing," the original tried to wave off.

"Yeah, judging by Amy's face it doesn't look like it's 'nothing'," Avalon tilted her head, "What are-"

"It's a time memory. Like a mirage," he cut her off, "It's nothing to worry about."

"Liar," Avalon whispered then looked at the ganger beside her, ready to question him too.

However, he had his eyes closed and looked like he was in some type of pain, "It's in my head..." he hurried out the room.

"Hey, hold on!" Avalon called after him.

"Don't let him go," Cleaves warned.

"Leave it to me," Amy hurried out the room, hoping to fix some the things she'd said to him.

Unfortunately, that didn't seem the case for when she returned to the room, it was in a hurried run and heavy breath, "Keep him away from me!" she ordered and ran over to where the other Doctor was.

"Amy?" Avalon frowned at the attitude of her friend, "What's wrong?"

"Did you sense it?" the ganger Doctor came into the room and questioned his other self.

"Briefly. Not as strong as you."

"Sensed what?" Avalon walked over to Amy and hoped to calm her.

"Is there pictures we're missing?" the Sapling looked between the two Doctors, just as puzzled as everyone else.

"Not quite," went one of the Doctors.

"Amy, I'm sorry," the ganger Doctor apologized honestly.

"No, you keep away!" Amy snapped, pulling Avalon closer. Rory would definitely not want Avalon to be around the ganger who had radical, horrific emotions, "We can't trust you!"

"It would appear I can connect to the Flesh," the Doctor wasn't particularly paying attention to her at the moment.

"Well, you are Flesh," the ginger continued to say.

"I'm beginning to understand what it needs."

"What you want. You are it."

"Amy," Avalon put a hand on Amy's arm, disliking the tone and attitude she was taking with the ganger. If he was connected to the Flesh, then he didn't exactly have a choice in what he saw.

"It's much more powerful than we thought," the Doctor continued on without notice, "The Flesh can grow, correct?"

Cleaves was another that wasn't very interested in the topic, "Its cells can divide."

"Well, now it wants to do that at will. It wants revenge," the Doctor approached her, "It's in pain, angry. It wants revenge."

"Hm, thing got a mind of its own now? Where did I hear that one...?" Avalon sarcastically looked around, "...mm, oh right," she crossed her arms as she finally stepped around Amy, "Me."

"Mother was right," the Sapling agreed with a nod of his head.

"Doctor, I told you that we couldn't trust him," Amy went up to the Doctor herself. "I was right. He can't be the Doctor. He can't ever be, he's just a copy."

"That's not very nice," the Sapling pointed.

"Yeah, I'm gonna have to go with the Sapling this time," Avalon folded her arms.

"Be quiet, Avalon," Amy snapped, nearly sounding like a mother and looking like it when she pulled Avalon back with her.

"Hey!"

"Doctor, it might be best if you stayed over there for now, hmm?" Cleaves resolved as she stepped towards the ganger, prompting the other Doctor to move up as well.

"Hold on a minute. Hold your horses," he cut in between the woman and the ganger, "I thought I'd explained this. I'm him, he's me."

"Doctor, we have no issue with you. But when it comes to your ganger..." Cleaves looked around to the other people for their opinions, though their faces were more than clear, except for one person of course.

"I think you're all overreacting a bit," Avalon tried to input but no one listened.

"Be quiet!" snapped Amy again, though this time Avalon sent her a deep glare.

"Tell me to shut up one more time, I dare you," she gritted her teeth. It was completely outrageous that they forced the ganger Doctor on a barrel like he was some criminal.

Amy would not take the dare; she'd seen the fights Avalon had in the past and she wasn't interested in getting a black eye in the midst of all the trouble. "I just think it would be safer," she said, though her tone was still strained.

"Safer? They're the same!" Avalon gestured to the ganger and then to Doctor. "Down to the same stupid bow-tie! No two people can make that same mistake!"

The Sapling covered his mouth to giggle when both Doctors gave Avalon the same deadpanning look.

Amy, though, wouldn't listen as she shook her head. "You're too blinded by them."

A new type of anger flourished across Avalon's face when Amy made that accusation. Making that accusation basically told Avalon that Amy believed she couldn't separate reality from her stories, from the all the stories she'd heard about the Doctor. It was an outright offence, honestly. "I am not blinded, Amelia Pond! I'm not seven! I'm not a child!"

"Avalon," the ganger Doctor stepped in when her face began to match the shade of her hair. He grabbed her arm and gently pulled her away from the mini-stare down she was having with Amy. "It's fine, really."

"No, it's not," Avalon continued shooting Amy glares. "I hate when they say that. Like...like I'm too engulfed in my stories to realize that I'm in the real world." She turned to him, expression akin to a beg. "I know I have my stories and I love them but I'm not blinded by them. I know you're real and that you have flaws and...this is the real world. It's not my fairy tale world."

"I know that," he assured her with a soft smile. "You don't have to prove it to me."

"...just like you don't have to prove to anyone that you're real," she said and shot the others another glare. "You're a ganger but you're the Doctor. I know you are."

"And that counts for a lot, trust me," he rubbed her arms comfortingly. "My Ava."

She smiled back but when he moved to sit on the barrel the others ordered him to, she yanked him to his side. "Absolutely not. They can all suck it." She stuck her tongue out at anyone who saw.

From his spot, the original Doctor struggled hard not to laugh right there and then. That's my Ava.

After a couple minutes, the group got word from the mainland they were trying to land when the signal was cut off.

"I can't find Rory. I'm going out there," Amy had had enough of waiting around.

"We could use the sonic to track him," the Doctor offered as he pulled out his screwdriver, "Humans and gangers give off slightly different signals. The sonic can tell the difference."

"Oh, so the sonic knows gangers are different, so the other Doctor is different."

The Doctor rolled his eyes, "He is the Doctor."

"Not to me," Amy assured, "I can tell."

"Sure you're not prejudiced?"

"Nice try, but I know, OK? We've been through too much. You're my Doctor. End of."

"Amy, instead of making things worse come over here," Avalon was with Buzzer in front of the visual screens, "We've got Rory and Jennifer," everyone quickly gathered to see the screen.

"They're heading for the thermostatic room," Cleaves seemed confused and with great reason.

"Let's go get them," Amy declared but saw the screwdriver being tossed over to the Doctor on the barrel, "Hang on!"

"We can't let him go," Cleaves moved over to the Doctor, "Are you crazy?"

"Am I crazy, Doctor?" the Doctor turned to his other self.

"Well, you did once plumb your brain into the core of an entire planet just to halt its orbit and win a bet."

"I remember that!" the Sapling laughed as he watched the images in his head.

Avalon was not amused in the least. "That's not being crazy, that's being utterly stupid. And that's coming from me. Mels used to dare me to do the stupidest things."

"Enough!" Amy snapped. "Now he's not going-" she pointed to the ganger, "-I am!"

"Do you know, I want him to go," the Doctor stepped closer to her, serious, "And I'm rather adamant."

"Well, then, he'll need company, right, boss? It's fine. I'll handle it," Buzzer offered and stepped forwards.

"Thank you, Buzzer. It'll be all right. I'll find him," the ganger waved and left with Buzzer to follow.

"I can't explain it to you now, but I need you to trust him," the Doctor looked at Amy and even Avalon, "Can you do that for me?"

"Course," Avalon nodded but Amy seemed to have more trouble accepting it.

"What if you're wrong?" were her final words.

~ 0 ~

"These temperature gauges are rising," Cleaves read from the screen. They'd been monitoring the visuals for a while and was growing concerned, "Jennifer and Rory must have shut off the underground cooling vents."

"Why do that? They'll kill us," Dickens frowned.

"There's a million gallons of boiling acid under our feet..." Cleaves slowly looked down at the floor.

"And now it's heating up the whole island," the Doctor understood, "How long till it blows?" his answer was the explosion that rocked them entirely.

"Gangers or no gangers, we need to get the hell out of here," Dickens urgently said.

"Shuttle! We need evac," Cleaves started a transmission again, "Where are you? Can you hear me? Can you...?" she stopped when she felt a jab at her forehead.

"Cleaves? Cleaves, sit down," the Doctor helped her away the console and sat her on a chair.

"I'm fine," Cleaves assured as she put a hand on her forehead, I'm waiting for results, so let it go."

The Doctor had used the sonic on her and got results instantaneous, "It's a very deep parietal clot."

"Inoperable?"

"On Earth, yes."

"Well, seeing as Earth is all that's on... offer...hm," Cleaves slumped in her chair, "I'm no healthy spring chicken, and you're no weatherman. Right?"

Another quake struck and shook the room, "Something just cracked. I heard it," Avalon frantically looked around for anything that was breaking.

"Yeah, we can't stay here, let's go," the Doctor agreed and headed for the doors.

Cleaves moved to the console again and did another transmission, "Cleaves to Shuttle. We need to move, and we can't be collected from the evac tower."

'Give us the codeword'.

"The codeword is..." but her voice was cut off with another quake that struck that console and cut off the transmission.

"Cleaves? Cleaves, it's dead, it's dead," the Doctor called to them, "We need to get out of here. We need to get back downstairs and get those vents back on, come on."

They ran into a new room where the Doctor and Cleaves hurried to change the settings on the machine, "It's a chemical chain reaction now. I can't stop it. This place is going to blow sky high," the Doctor sighed.

"Exactly how long have we got?" Cleaves asked.

"An hour? Five seconds? Er, somewhere in between."

The klaxon sounded along with a series of explosions, "Out!" the Doctor ordered and ran out the room with the group.

They ran a couple feet until they found Rory on a turn. Amy was the first to hug him as she was the closest one.

"All right?" Rory pulled back and studied her followed by Avalon.

"Us? What about you?" Avalon hugged him, "Don't you dare do that again!"

"Yeah, aunt Amy and Mother were very worried," the Sapling informed as if Rory hadn't already known that.

"There's a way out. Jennifer found it. A secret tunnel under the crypt," Rory pulled away and looked at the group.

"From the crypt? It's not on the schematics," Cleaves shook her head.

"It runs right out of the monastery. Maybe even under the TARDIS, Doctor. Follow me."

As everyone ran after Rory, the Doctor seemed slightly hesitant to do so.

"We can't leave without Buzzer," Jimmy said as they entered the new room.

"I'll go back for him," Cleaves called.

Rory was with the Doctor and was looking nervous for some reason, "Doctor, look...I'd better tell you, I haven't been quite straight with you..." but ganger Jennifer pulled him out the room before he could finish and locked the group inside.

"Rory!" the Doctor pounded on the door, "Rory Pond, Roranicus Pondicus!"

"Rory! What the hell are you playing at?" Avalon shouted but caught sight of Jennifer on the other side and knew it had to be that woman's fault.

"Rory, there is no time. This factory's about to explode!" Amy called frantically.

"I'm sorry!" Rory was able to say before he was dragged away by the Jennifer.

"Can we hurt her?" the Sapling made a deep scowl appear on his face. They were just trying to get home and that woman was about to kill them off.

With no other alternatives, the Doctor hurried back to the acid with the sonic, "This is going to overheat and fill the room with acid, just as a point of interest."

"Please, stop talking," Avalon sighed, she'd rather not hear about their looming death.

Dicken started lowering the cap over the vat as an effort against it. Jimmy moved closer to the vat and shook his head, "It'll never hold her.'

"If you have a better plan, I'm all ears," the Doctor pointed, "In fact, if you have a better plan, I'll take you to a planet where everyone is all ears."

"I've also seen that one!" the Sapling tapped the side of his head. "Can I go there afterwards?"

Even through the now shut cap, the acid was far stronger. Cleaves observed it from a distance, "The acid's eating through."

"This is it, huh? This is where we're going to die," Avalon shuddered a breath as she stared at the weak vat with soon-to-be overflowing acid. She felt her breathing pick up. That was new. She never really considered that one of their trips might be the last one.

The Doctor came over to her and hugged her. He didn't care if she would push him away; he needed for her know that he wouldn't leave her side. "No, it's not," he quietly said.

"Oh you don't have to lie," Avalon sighed. She allowed him to hug her for a few seconds, letting herself enjoy his hold just for a bit.

Jimmy had moved to keep the vat's lid down but some of the acid managed to splash on his chest, knocking him to the floor. At that moment, ganger Jimmy ran into the room and went straight for his other self. The Doctor had gone to check the original but found bad results, "There's nothing we can do. The acid's reached his heart."

"Hang in there, mate," ganger Jimmy sighed.

"I'm quite handsome from this angle," Jimmy managed to humor.

"I'm...sorry. I'm the fake. Adam deserves his real dad."

"Shut up," Jimmy playfully rolled his eyes.

"What do you want me to do? Anything, just say."

"The way things are, mate... it's up to you now," Jimmy pulled on the cord around his neck and gave it to his ganger, "Be a dad. You remember how."

A stunned ganger Jimmy held up a wedding band in his hand.

"Jimmy Wicks...you're a dad," the Doctor clapped him on the shoulder.

"Right then, everyone, it's time to go!" ganger Cleaves called to the group and ran out the room first.

The Doctor stood by the door as everyone ran out but noticed Avalon staring at the corner of the room. "Ava! Let's go!"

"Amy said that woman appeared there again," she pointed at the wall. "How can that be? There's nothing there."

"Avalon, it doesn't matter!" the Doctor ran back to bring her out of the room. "We have to go!"

"But it does!" Avalon snapped, yanking her arm out of his hold after they'd gotten into the corridor. "Because you know what it means and don't want to tell us! And when you do that, it means something's happening."

"No, it's not," the Doctor tried his best to smile like nothing was going on around them, like neither of them were in danger. "You know me, I've got so many things in my head that I don't even know what's going on half the time."

"Nice try," Avalon rolled her eyes. "You know what's going on, more than you're letting on. But I shouldn't be surprised. It's what you do. Keep everything to yourself."

"This...isn't about Amy anymore, is it?"

Avalon once again rolled her eyes and when she attempted to leave, the Doctor grabbed her arm. "Look if you're not going to tell me anything, then just leave me alone."

"Now a wait minute, 10 minutes ago you were dandy with the other Doctor but now I'm the one you're mad at?"

"Are you seriously telling me that you're jealous?" Avalon didn't know whether to laugh or scream in frustration. "Why are you like this?" she air-strangled him instead.

"Like what?" the Doctor frowned.

Avalon groaned, her hands dangerously close to actually strangling him by the neck. "I hate you, you know that!? Do you enjoy being self-righteous with me? Especially with me?"

"I would never-"

"-then why don't you just tell me the truth already?"

"What truth?"

"I'm going to kill you, after," Avalon muttered and stepped towards him. She grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket and pulled him close to her so he would definitely listen to her words. "If I'm really going to die here, then I refuse to go without hearing you tell me the truth about us."

The Doctor's eyes widened. "Oh..."

"Yeah, 'oh'," Avalon could be pretty scary when she wanted to, and of course she'd choose to be the scariest when she wanted a confession from him about their feelings. She sure knew how to pick them.

"I don't think this is really the time. I mean, we have got some killer acid and actual killers after us-"

"-I don't bloody care," Avalon snapped. "I deserve for somebody to tell me the truth for once in my life." Her face suddenly softened, as did the grip of her hands on his jacket. She tilted her head slightly, eyes glimmering with tears. "And I would really like for that 'somebody' to be you."

"Ava...I can't..."

"Why not?" she asked through gritted teeth. "And don't tell me it's because there's nothing. Fantasy Fest. That's all the proof I need. You were about to kiss me and don't deny it."

"I stopped for a reason..."

"Because you nearly got caught."

"No, because...it was the right thing to do," the Doctor put his hands over hers and gently pulled them off his jacket. "Because I can't do that to you. You have me falling in temptation, Ava. Being who I am, it's a dangerous thing."

"And I told you plenty of times that I like dangerous. Literally. I love the adrenaline," Avalon said with the most honest smirk on her face. She raised her head as if daring him to challenge her.

He honest to God loved that look on her. He could kiss her to death right now. He brought one of his hands to touch her face, very soon grazing her lips. "My Ava. You have no idea what goes through my head whenever you're around me."

"I would if you just told me," Avalon whispered.

"Thing is, Avalon, I've done this before and it never ended well," the Doctor's gaze lowered a bit.

Avalon could see the pain etching across his face, as if it were still raw because it happened yesterday. She didn't have to hear each individual story to know that the Doctor blamed himself for every ending. "You're 909, I believe you."

"I don't want you to be the next one. Because sometimes it's not the fact that they've left me, it's how they ended up leaving. You won't be the next one, not on my watch."

Avalon's eyes watered up. "Can you just say it, though? Say it once, please."

But the Doctor wasn't brave enough. If he said it out loud, then it would finally become real. And when it became real, the pain that came with it would also be real. He couldn't do it. "I can't...I'm sorry..."

The ground suddenly rumbled underneath them, nearly knocking them both to the wall. The Doctor grabbed ahold of Avalon's arm - even if she wanted to murder him for his inability to speak the truth - and searched the hallway for a good route.

"We have to go!"

"I hate you!" Avalon didn't hesitate to start and he would be smart enough to know that this wasn't the end of their conversation. Just because they were about to die was no excuse! Not for them!

~ 0 ~

The rest of the group had entered a new room after being chased down by ganger Jennifer (who was now the only one bent on war). They'd met up with Rory and the other Doctor again and were now trying to keep Jennifer away from them. As Dicken came to shut the door that would keep Jennifer out, he crashed into a running Avalon and Doctor.

"Where the hell have you two been?" called Rory from the end of the room, frankly offended they'd left them to their luck.

"Yeah, ganger Jennifer is still after us!" the Sapling waved his arms frantically. Of course then he dropped them when he noticed how angry his mother looked. "Why are you upset, Mother?"

"Ask your father," Avalon shoved the Doctor with her to the side.

A scream carried down the hallway and made everyone look out to see Dickens shut the door with himself on the other side. Jennifer had killed him and was making her way towards the group now. Ganger Dickens shut the door in front of them with the help of ganger Cleaves and the Doctor that had come in with Avalon.

There was a creaking sound from the ceiling and the other Doctor looked up to see a familiar blue square coming through. "Here she comes!" The TARDIS fell down and added an extra rumble to the ground. "Oh, she does like to make an entrance! Move!" he ordered as he went up to the doors and opened them up for the group, "Go, go, go, go!"

Ganger Dickens left the door and ran into the TARDIS. Cleaves was going to do the same but looked back at her ganger, "Get on board! Go!" the ganger shooed he off.

"I'm not leaving," Cleaves tried to argue but the loud bang Jennifer gave on the other side of the door cut her off.

"Go!" the ganger yelled at her and so went Cleaves into the TARDIS.

"Sapling!" the Doctor called from the TARDIS. "GO!" The Sapling nodded his head quickly and made a dash for the blue box.

"Now's our chance," Amy hurried to the TARDIS and looked back at the others, specifically the Doctor at the door.

"I have to stay. Hold this door closed. Give you time to dematerialize."

"What are you doing?" Avalon frowned, "What happens if you stay here?"

"Well, this place is just about to explode. But I can stop her."

"Both of you can survive this, OK?" Amy looked between the two aliens.

"Or perhaps you think I should stay instead... Mr Smith?"

"No, of course not. But look, this man, I've flown with him, you know? And you are amazing and yeah, I misjudged you, but you're not him. I'm sorry."

"Amy, we swapped shoes. I'm the Doctor," the Doctor by the TARDIS informed.

"And I'm...the Flesh," the Doctor at the door said rather nervously as he looked at Avalon.

"You're what now?" her eyes widened.

"I, uh, I...probably should've mentioned that before-"

"-right, because telling the truth is so easy for you clearly," she rolled her eyes.

"No, hold on!" Amy shook her head fervently as if that would make things more clear. "How's this even possible!?"

"Well, they switched places, didn't they?" Rory wasn't that surprised the Doctor would pull something like that. In fact, they should've just seen it coming.

"Well I'm not the original, I haven't been all along," the ganger Doctor shrugged, not able to explain much further.

"I don't know which one of you to kill right now," Avalon looked between both aliens, though the reactions from each were different. The one at the door looked heavily frightened while the one at the TARDIS was trying to understand what was going on.

"Ava? What happened?" the Doctor, the real one, asked her.

"Is there a way you both can survive?" Amy's hair kept flinging from side to side as she asked the two Doctors.

"Yeah, so I can kill both of them," mumbled Avalon.

"You okay?" Rory touched Avalon's arm, the only one who wouldn't die at the moment. She shook her head in response. "What happened?"

"Nothing!" she quickly exclaimed, shooting the ganger a sharp look, "Nothing happened," though her face was upset and sad, "Just, um, just tell us, is there a way of survival for you?" she genuinely wondered.

"Get to safety, Ava," was the answer of the ganger, a soft smile on his face.

"Well we can't just let him die!" Amy exclaimed, frantically shaking as no one seemed very worried about that detail.

"It's fine, Pond," the ganger Doctor smiled just like his other version would. "We got what we needed from this place, didn't we?" he shared a knowing look with the other Doctor, both nodding in agreement.

"What?" Avalon caught on and frowned even deeper. "Oh! I am so done with you two!"

"No Avalon, wait!" the ganger grabbed her arm and gently tugged her to his side. "You were right...about everything." She still shook her head, more ready to kill him before ganger Jennifer did. "Hey, I mean it," he tugged her arm again, forcing her to look at him. "You were absolutely right, but then again...when aren't you right?"

She wanted to roll her eyes again but he had that stupid grin she liked a lot. While she was lost in her thoughts - deciding whether to keep pretending to want to kill him or just leave - she didn't notice that the ganger Doctor had leaned to her side until he whispered something in her ear. When he drew away, she had her wide-eyed stare locked on him and she had a deep blush across her face.

"What he say?" Amy scrunched, wondering if it was some other secret the two aliens had kept from them.

Even the Doctor by the TARDIS was puzzled. "Ava?"

Avalon shared a small smile with his ganger. "You finally said it," she leaned closer to him, letting her nose rest against his cheek. "Thank you. And you know that I feel the same," she told him in a whisper. She pulled away and looked at the door he and Cleaves were desperately trying to keep locked, but ganger Jennifer was using all her monstrous strength to pound against it.

"You need to go," the ganger ordered her. "Please."

"But..."

"I'll be fine," he assured.

"You lie," she said sadly. He didn't say anything except give her another smile. She nodded, indicating she understood, but before she left she surprised him with a kiss on the cheek. She went right into the TARDIS without looking at anyone else, much less the other Doctor who couldn't be more confused in his life! What had that ganger of him said to her and why did she react like that? They were so close too...

Of course he soon turned an accusing look on his ganger, demanding questions with a silent glare.

"Oh shut up," went the ganger in return. "Maybe she's the one who can change things. Because if you don't, and I survive this, I'm coming back for her. You got that?"

"I'm interested," Amy remarked to Rory, both of them looking at each of the Doctors at the same time. "But I'm so confused at the same time."

"I'm not," Rory frowned. It was what he specifically wanted nothing of for the sake of Avalon. "Let's go!" he yanked his wife towards the TARDIS, leaving the two Doctors to work out whatever they needed to.

Avalon was inside with the Sapling but while the tree child was ecstatic to be safe inside the TARDIS, Avalon was lost in thoughts. Rory took a quick stride towards the woman, dreading what was going on through her head.

"Hey Ava," his voice, though gentle, managed to startle her, "Are you okay?"

"Uh...yeah, I think I am," Avalon answered but she still seemed like she was figuring it out. "I just..." she laughed humorlessly, "Why is he so...like that!?"

"Ava," Rory deeply sighed and brought a hand to her curly hair. "I really wish you hadn't..." he couldn't finish it out loud, for her sake, but she just smiled sadly.

"I couldn't help it Rory," she said with the tone of a child. She always did that whenever they had a serious talk. He was like the grown up because God knew she could never be an adult.

"Told you," Amy was smirking, completely the opposite of her husband.

"I don't get it," the Sapling suddenly said, his lips curled into a pout. "What's going on? What are we talking about?"

Avalon just laughed, wholeheartedly for the first time that day. "Oh Sapling, nothing. Nothing except your Mother is a true idiot."

~ 0 ~

After making sure the gangers were stable and dropping ganger Jimmy back to his son, the Doctor brought Cleaves and ganger Dickens back to the headquarters of their factory.

"You really want us to do this?" Cleaves sighed as they approached the conference room.

"Your company's telling the world that the situation is over. You need to get in there and tell them that the situation's only just begun," the Doctor pointed to the door, "Make them understand what they're doing to the Flesh. Make them stop. Dickens, remember, people are good. In their bones, truly good. Don't hate them, will you?"

"How can I hate them? I'm one of them now," he gestured to Cleaves beside her.

"Yeah, and just remember, people died. Don't let that be in vain. Make what you say in that room count."

"Ready? Side by side," Cleaves said as they'd stopped in front of the conference door.

"You got it, boss."

Together, the two co-workers entered the conference room. Amy moved closer to the Doctor and nudged him, "You okay?"

"I said breathe, Pond, remember? Well, breathe," the Doctor sighed as he knew what was coming next. He started making his way back for the TARDIS where Avalon had preferred to stay. Now, on top of a ganger Amy, he had to decipher what secret Avalon was refusing to tell him. And more importantly, what the hell his ganger had whispered in her ear.

"Why?" Amy called but couldn't say more when she doubled over in pain. "Ooh! Woah! Oh!"

"What's wrong with her?" Rory quickly tried checking her for any injury, but he didn't remember seeing anything earlier.

"Get her into the TARDIS," the Doctor ordered and entered the box.

"What's wrong with aunt Amy!?" the Sapling's cry pulled Avalon away from her journal. She looked up to see the Doctor and Rory helping Amy get into the TARDIS.

"Contractions," the Doctor bitterly answered as he went around the console, setting the TARDIS in motion.

"Excuse me?" Avalon hopped off her seat and hurried to help Rory.

"She's going into labor."

The Sapling gasped. "Aunt Amy's having a baby!? I thought it was Mother!"

"Would you stop saying that!?" snapped Avalon. This was no time to remind her that she needed to change diets.

"Doctor, what are you talking about!?" Amy asked in-between groans. She literally felt like she was being stabbed in her stomach. "Rory, I don't like this - OW!"

"You'll have to start explaining this to me, Doctor," Rory practically ordered. He could handle the secrets the Doctor kept from them when it wasn't about Amy. Something was happening to his wife and he wanted answers now.

"What, the birds and the bees? She's having a baby," the Doctor moved away from the console. The Sapling gasped again, in delight until someone would tell him it wasn't all that great when the person in labor didn't even know she was in labor. "I needed to see the Flesh in its early days. That's why I scanned it. That's why we were there in the first place. I was going to drop you off for fish and chips first, but things happened and there was stuff and shenanigans. Beautiful word, shenanigans."

"You're getting off topic," Avalon snapped. "Not to mention the fact I knew you were keeping something from us!"

"It hurts!" cried the second ginger.

"Breathe," the Doctor pointed at Amy, "I needed enough information to block the signal to the Flesh."

"What signal?" Amy didn't understand and quite frankly didn't have the head to decipher it with all the pain she was feeling.

"The signal to you."

"Doctor?"

"Stand away from her," the Doctor sternly looked at Avalon and Rory. He expected the simultaneous refusal from them, but it didn't mean he would be patient about it. Time was literally of the essence now. From here on out, they were at war.

"You need to start explaining now," Avalon's eyes narrowed on the Doctor, and with good reason.

"Given what we've learned, I'll be as humane as I can, but I need to do this and you two-" his voice suddenly rose in volume, "-need to STAND AWAY!"

Avalon flinched when he started yelling. She didn't say anything back, she didn't dare to. Instead, she looked at Rory and the two slowly backed away from Amy. Why were they leaving her!? Why was the Doctor shouting at them!? And why did her stomach hurt so much!?

"No, no, Doctor, I am frightened. I'm properly, properly scared!"

Even the Sapling had the good sense to be afraid now that he was looking at everyone. He slowly inched closer to Avalon who, once she felt him nearby, slowly took him into a hug.

"Don't be. Hold on. We're coming for you, I swear it," the Doctor stepped closer to Amy, putting a hand on her cheek. He felt terrible for taking this long to finally do something about her situation. "Whatever happens, however hard, however far, we will find you."

"I'm right here!" Amy clung to his arm, shaking him to get him to listen to her. But despite her insistence, she could see in his eyes that he'd already made up his decision about her.

"No, you're not. You haven't been here for a long, long time," he stepped back and held his sonic at her. The mere act froze Avalon and Rory in their respective spots. It looked like Amy was suddenly the enemy trespassing.

Amy whimpered in her spot, one hand still wrapped around her stomach. "No..."

With one click of the sonic, she turned into a Flesh puddle.

Rory gasped at the sight of what used to be his wife.

Avalon's eyes wide to the brim. Her grip around the Sapling tightened as if they were next on the list.

The Doctor slowly lowered his sonic but he couldn't look at Rory nor Avalon. What would he tell them? That he'd known for a while Amy wasn't really there with them but he didn't have the tools nor the knowledge to find her?

"Doctor," Rory suddenly spoke up. "Hey?" he had to call twice before the Time Lord would finally glance at him, but only then it was a slight glance. "I don't understand what just happened, nor what is happening but I bet my life that you knew about this."

"Rory-"

"-NO," Rory's voice sharpened quick, shutting the Doctor down in that moment, "You knew about it for God knows how long so right now, you owe me."

"Rory, stop," Avalon's voice was a frail whisper. She was truly afraid of what was coming next, but Rory was already thinking ahead and it included her.

"Avalon, be quiet," Rory snapped. It was so uncharacteristic of him but it was another testament of how furious he was. He walked straight up to the Doctor, and showcased his deepest glare. "You owe me and I'm gonna use that to save the other person I just know is in danger." The Doctor blinked at him, unsure of where Rory was taking this until Rory's eyes flickered to Avalon. "I've felt this for a while and nobody would listen to me, not even Amy."

"Rory, what are you talking about?" Avalon asked, about to walk towards them when the Sapling hugged her tighter. He was mighty afraid and the fact everyone looked so angry and upset didn't help ease his nerves.

"The letter, Avalon," the Doctor said, side-glancing her with sorrow eyes. Now it was Rory's turn to be confused. Neither he nor Amy had heard about the letter. "What did the letter say?"

Avalon's eyes would blink several times before she answered and when she did, she still wasn't sure what it had to do with their conversation. "Dear Avalon, I know this is strange and probably confusing but it is imperious that you listen to me. You must remain with the Doctor for your own safety. Bad things are coming, and they will be coming for you and all your friends." She swallowed hard, attempting to keep calm but her body was visibly shaking. "But it-it's not about me right now. It's about Amy-"

"-but they could be the same people that letter was talking about," the Doctor sighed. "I should have known from the start. I should have been more careful."

"Doctor, they got to Amy but we can still keep Avalon safe," Rory said, now more urgent since they finally figured out what he was trying to say.

"Yes, you're right," the Doctor nodded, turning towards Avalon. The woman took an instinctive step backwards, bringing the Sapling with her in the process. "Avalon, you might be next."

"No, stop it!" she snapped. "We need to focus on Amy and-"

"-you," Rory said. "I'm not losing you too."

"What...what are you going to do?" Avalon asked, her tone laced with a clear fear.

"Whatever it takes," the Doctor promised her.

#ocappreciation #doctor who #11th doctor #doctor who fics #11th doctor fics #dw imagine #11th doctor imagines #dw fics #doctor who ocs #oc: Avalon Reynolds #fic: falling in temptation

[bleached-d-soul]

Team ALAB: Night Lifemare

Part 1 of Team ALAB commissions for @the-hapless-ace

ALAB

Adam was a proud faunus.

He learnt way back that one of the main things that humans like Schnees and Winchesters wanted to take their pride first and then whatever else they had. Because the moment faunus lost the pride in thier blood, they would take any abuse thrown at them and think it was alright. That it was natural. Which is exactly why Adam always reminded any and all faunus around him that feeling shameful of their heritage was not an option.

Being proud didn't mean being arrogant, however. And he was not above admitting it when he messed up. As a former terrorist leader, he had a lot of mistakes under his belt. And for each and every one of them, he was ready to atone.

"Oh yeah, baby, shake that ass for me! Wohoooo!"

This time. however, the fault was not his. He didn't blow anything up or gut anyone that led to this mess. No, not by a long shot.

The mess he found himself in was the work of his idiot teammates and he would make sure they paid for it. With interest.

"Oh my, careful with him, Violet! He might bite you!"

"Or maybe he will show you why faunus men are beasts in bed!"

"Show it, bull boy! Show it all!"

He was grateful that the club allowed him to keep his mask on. He was even more grateful to whoever was up there that these ladies thought he was just a cosplayer and not an actual Adam Taurus, the former leader of the White Fang branch.

"Hey there, big bull boy! Sorry but I am afraid we bought you for the rest of the night!"

That gratitude evaporated the moment one of the women slapped a collar on him and took him for some private party.

Whatever remained of that gratitude turned into spite at the fucked up Gods who decided said party being for none other than Willow Schnee of all people. He reached for his sword... And remembered far too late that his was replaced with a plastic prop. The women - many of which he recognized as the wives of Atlas wealthiest businessmen - cheered him on, no doubt mistaking his murderous intent for some roleplaying stuff.

He had half a mind to leave.

He made a step towards the exit.

His collar was pulled with the strength of an Ursa and he found himself in a lap of none other than Willow Schnee.

"You look a lot like Adam Taurus," she said with a drunk gaze and light frown. Then it melted into a hungry smile. "My husband would hate it if I did this."

Did what?

She planted her lips on his. The cheers grew loud and wild as the Schnee matriarch explored his mouth in drunk and needy fever. Her hands roamed over the body that survived countless battles - many of which he led against her family. Her eyes gazed into his, conveying the message of anger and despair. He realized that she knew. She knew who he really was.

And so she buried her tongue even deeper in his mouth, her passion and desperation growing three times stronger. What life could she possibly have that she would be making out with the man who threatened her family and delivered on his promises more than once? Whatever life it was, it certainly was not a good one.

Great, now he was starting to feel sorry for a Schnee of all people.

He blamed Ren for all of this.

ALAB

Ren was a calm and flexible man.

Be it a classroom or a battlefield, he always remained the same. Sharp mind and nimble body. In order to maintain those, it was important to always eat healthy food and get enough sleep and exercise. His smooth skin and silky hair were merely a well-deserved bonus for all the effort and time he put in.

'Maybe I should tone down on it though.'

Such was the thought that ran through the young man's mind as he found himself surrounded by the women of Atlas. Much like the few flowers that survived the harsh winters, the women here were strong and strict most of the day. The current situation in the world demanded nothing less from the military officers situated in the city. But even the coldest of hearts needed to find some warmth. And while Ren was more than happy to provide it, he found these women not simply seeking heat but starving for it.

He had finished his dance routine around ten minutes ago. Mercury's dancing was cocky and full of hip movements aimed to excite and entrail. Adam always moved with the same air of danger as he did on the battlefield, his mere stance screaming for everyone to come near if only brave enough. Jaune was... Well, he was Jaune so he mostly appealed to women with the enthusiastic and energetic brightness.

And Ren? Well, he never liked to move beyond what was necessary. He moved slow and steady, sensual and serene. His dance was not to excite the crowd but to lull them into tranquil state of mind. Like a serpent, he would soothe their minds with elegent and soft approach.

He realized all too late that though he was a serpent, these women were hawks. And before he knew it, he was lying on the table, his kimono long-forgotten on the floor. A living sushi platter... He used to think that, were he not a Huntsman, the job where all he needed to do was relax and rest was a dream job. But with each piece of bite-sized treat leaving his naked flesh, the women eating seemed to grow only hungrier.

And not for more fish and rice.

'I am in danger!'

With a heavy sigh, Ren wondered why Mercury dragged him into this.

ALAB

Mercury was an alpha of the group.

He loved to think that much, at least. He liked his teammates alright and all but come on! Even though he was the son of the hitman, he was surprisingly the most stable one in the group. An ex-terrorist, an emotionally-suppressed ninja and a blonde idiot who tried his luck against Grimm without even knowing what Aura was. Was it any shock that he was the one who had the most luck among the ladies?

Even if right now he wished he was just as bad with them as his teammates.

"Bad boy! Yes, you are the bad boy and you need to be punished!"

The whip whistled through the air, its leather tip mercilessly finding its target. Any other day, he would simply shrug it off. With his Aura, he could tank a freaking nut-punch from Yang and be no worse for the wear. Unfortunately, his Aura ran out five minutes ago after the freaking bitch shattered it with her Semblance. Seriously, this club had some serious security problems.

"You remind me one of my students," she whispered, her hot breath tickling his ear. Slowly, she dragged her silky tongue across his cheek. "The disobedient, destructive degenerate... Nghh, how I wish you were him."

Thing is, he was. Fucking hell, he was pretty sure she was even talking about him. If only Goodwitch was the only person who ever called him that. He knew Goodwitch was a fucking sadist! He told the guys she didn't have the crop for nothing! 'Use it as her weapon'. Fucking bullshit!

"Now tell me, who am I?"

Psychotic sexually-repressed bitch of a teacher! That was what he wanted to say. That was what he did say.

"Wrong answer."

And that was what got him another ten whippings across his back.

Mercury used to wonder what it would be like to sleep with Goodwitch. And honestly, who could blame him? The girls back in Beacon were sweet and all, but their prof was a straight-up MILF, for Gods' sake. Well, now he knew what kind of woman hid behind those glasses and air of professionalism. And he knew that she was too crazy to stick his dick in.

"Aaaagh!"

"That's right, you disobedient little brat! Moan for mercy! Cry for help! Beg your Mistress for relief and love! If you act like the worm you are, she may even show you some benevolence!"

Whipping after whipping, Mercury made sure to burn the memory into his brain.

Jaune was so going to pay for this.

ALAB

Jaune had only himself to blame.

He knew that. And he was one hundred percent sure his team wouldn't let him forget that. In his defense, none of what happened today was his plan.

He just wanted to help out a friend in Atlas while they had some time to themselves. Azure has been his friend since they were ten until her family moved to Mantle and they lost all contact. And then, through the same coincidence, they met again just when she needed help. And sure, why wouldn't he help out an old friend in need? She had a club and said that some of her employees got food poisoning. So of course he volunteered himself and his team to help out. Plus, they could use some extra cash after their last stunt.

What was some dishwashing, waitering or working in the kitchen just for one night?

How could he know that his dear childhood friend was the owner of the host/strip club? She was so innocent when they were ten! Regardless of that, he already gave his word. And an Arc never went on his word.

Which is how he found himself here, giving both female members of the Ace Ops team the full-body massage. Oil and all.

"Hmmm, right there..." Harriet moaned as he started to massage her feet. He was eternally thankful for the masks. Gods know what would done to him if they found out he was the one giving them their message. "I might become a frequent customer of yours."

She let out another loud sensual moan.

'And I might never look her straight in the eyes now.'

"You said it, Harr," Elm whispered, the usually loud and booming lady speaking in serene tone. As he thought back the thorough massage he give to the amazonian beauty, Jaune couldn't help but wish for looser pair of pants. Suddenly, her muscled hand smacked across his ass, drawing out a cry from Jaune. "Are you up for another one? I think I might enjoy a do-over!"

"Hey, no fair, Elm," Harriet moaned as he moved up to her thighs. "He has to do me first! And you know I love my massages done slowly. Then again..."

In a flash, Jaune found himself on the table. The blushing and very naked Harriet on the top of him.

"I think I might enjoy a quickie right now!"

He wondered if his teammates were doing any better.

ALAB

"Okay, so we all agree that this is Jaune's fault, right?"

Mercury was sore. Not the good kind of sore either. After Mistre- After Goodwitch was done whipping him and left, he wasted no time in getting back into the dressing room and drinking the strongest alcohol he could find. Unfortunately, the closest source of much needed haziness was a glasss of peach martini so he was whipped, pissed off and all too painfully sober.

And his situation was absolutely - fucking utterly - not helped by his two remaining temmates complaining about their own 'hard' times.

"So you banged a Schnee MILF?"

Adam choked on his coffee briefly before putting on his mask. "We didn't do anything of that sort. Well, a little bit. But it was mostly a pity sex on my part."

"I don't think I am eating sushi any time soon. Or anything for that matter," Ren shuddered as he stepped out of the shower. When they met him, he was covered in bite marks and lipstick, smelling like the weird mixture of perfume and raw fish. "Remind me to never agree to Jaune's ideas every again."

"You two shouldn't complaing!" Mercury growled in frustration. So Adam made out and banged a MILF. Ren found himself in the middle of hot orgy. And what did he get? A bunch of whip marks across his back and very confused boner! "At least you didn't get stuck with Mistress Goodwitch of all people whipping you for being a bad boy!"

"Mistress?" Adam raised an amused eyebrow. "Never took you for a submissive type, Black."

"Oh fuck off, hornhead," Mercury scoffed. "Fuck, where is Jaune? I swear to Gods if he got lucky too, I am joining Salem."

"You do know you would have to work with your dad again, right?"

Shit, Red did have a point there.

"Eh, I would just kill him."

"I don't think you could do it."

"You think I would go easy on that bastard?"

"No," Adam said. Right before giving him that arrogant smirk of his. "I simply doubt your ability to do it. Last time you fought, you lost your legs."

"Well, your ex is banging the monkey boy so there's that."

Before the two former criminals began turning the place into another bloodbath, their bickering was interrupted by the weak knock on their door. Immediately, all three took defensive positions. Willow promised Adam to see him after the show, something he wasn't looking forward to. Ren had little doubt some of the women he entertained would come back for more.

And Mercury?

"Open the door, Ren. If it's Goodwitch, I am killing her right where she stands."

Fortunately for all of the people present, behind the door stood none other than Jaune. Who managed to look both deathly exhausted and one step away from dying from happiness.

"Jaune? Are you alright?" When Ren received no answer from their team leader, he got worried. "Jaune, are you in there? Tell me what happened?"

"T... T-Thighs..." he managed to whisper. "S-So... So soft yet strong..."

Gods, Elm's and Harriet's thighs would keep him awake for so long now.

"Great," Mercury scoffed. "Now that all of you got some and I got whipped, can we just get the money and go? I really wanna forget this night ever happened?"

"SA-!"

Wait, what was that?

"-LU-!"

Oh Gods, no...

"-TATIONS!"

The door was blasted open. the smoke and ash obscuring their vision. But not enough to mistake the android girl behind the explosion. Not with her bright neon lights glowing. What the hell was she doing here?

"Penny? Why are you here and... naked?"

As the smoke left the room. the entire team bore witness to Penny's form in a lingerie. Though why an android needed that, Mercury didn't understand.

"I have come here to better understand my peers!" She said, cheerful as ever. "And I found all of them supremely satisfied with your services! I want to feel that too!"

Without saying another word, the girl slammed a stack of Lien cards into Mercury's face. Okay, getting slapped in the face with cash while half-naked made him dirty. Very very dirty.

"Ahem, Penny? Our shift is over and I don't think any of us need the money right now," Ren approached diplomatically. "So how about we-"

Before he could finish, Penny stopped him. Hand over his mouth, the sweetest smile on her lips, the redheaded android looked at all of them with the eyes so full of life yet devoid at the same time.

"If you don't do as I say, I will leak the video of you four onto the Atlas network," she gave Ren an especially hard look. "Along with your location and daily routes. I bet all these women would love to meet you outside the club."

"A-Are you blackmailing us?"

Penny nodded eagerly.

"And this is my first time too! What do you think? Am I convincing enough?"

Very. Scarily so.

"Good! Now then... Slave Ren, lie down on the table! I want to try eating some desserts off those toned chest and stomach!" her finger went to Jaune. "My body may be made of hard Atlesian steel but with your ability to insert and manipulate Aura, you should be able to provide me with satisfactory massage, Slave Jaune!" her bright eyes went to Adam. "One sensual dance from you, please, Slave Adam."

Finally, him.

"Slave Mercury... Go sit in the corner."

Okay, not good feeling.

"I will try out some of Miss Goodwitch's things after I am done!"

Fucking hell!

"Hmm, I wonder if this is what Harem should feel like," Penny mused as she took another frosted cupcake off Ren's chest and took a bite. "No matter, I am truly enjoying myself!"

And so with that said, a simple favor asked by Jaune's friend resulted in the entire team ALAB becoming Penny's official if unwilling Harem.

#jaune arc #mercury black #adam taurus #lie ren #team alab #alab au

[a-mentally-ill-nerd]

Amusing this my family has said, taken out of context:

“Enslave the moisture”

“Real live raptors?”

“Dad, please don’t sue me! I’m a stripper!”

“Trust me, I’m medicated”

“I want nothing more than to remove his head from his buttocks and shove a grenadine up there instead”

“If I bought 76 heads of lettuce, would you help me hide them?”

“So basically, “Mickey Mouse club house” is a distopian world and Phineas and Ferb caused the end of the world”

“Sure, just picked up and the dude asked them “would you line a like or a needle?””

“I’d run to Cris Pratt.”

“We need to get this velociraptor! He’s my cousin!”

“Aaaagh! Civilization!”

“I need his middle name!” “Why?” “It’ll be easier to find the skeletons in his closet.”

“She won’t admit it, but she’s a cannibal! I’ve seen the bodies in the closet!!!”

“Oh my gosh, I’M the bean body in the closet!”

“Hey, Satan”

“My eye bags are larger than my will to live”

“I am going to be an old hermit! But I’m going to have snakes and dogs, and they’ll live in harmony!!”

“If I wrote a paper explaining to you why you’re wrong,,,, would you read it?”

“If I don’t have abs by the end of the semester, I will cry.”

“Ah, yes. Past the tall man with the unimpressive genitalia.”

“That’s because I stick my toes in your ear while you sleep.”

“The squirrels need me!”

“Oh gosh, the people here are so friendly, what did we do to ourselves??”

“I don’t have an umbilical cord at my disposal, so just pretend.”

“Stop biting my butt!”

“She bit my foot through my boot!!! AND I HAVE A SCAR FROM IT!!!”

“I’m entree intolerant, so polite pass.”

“I wish to save the pluckings from my eyebrows and eventually glue a mustache.”

“It’s a bathroom, what else am I supposed to do; cook up some soup???”

“If all else fails, we’ve got my dirty underwear.”

“The individuals who show up at night haven’t been super malevolent.”

“I’m already tortured enough, why must you do this to me??”

“If we’re all possessed, it’s your job to exorcise us!” “I’m trying!” “Them why are we still here???”

“I’ve had worse dreams involving yo-yos!”

“I wish I had a nice nemesis. All of my nemesies are wenches.”

“Oooo, we have marshmallow jelly!!!”

“Yeah, just go to ‘umbilical cord’s R us’”

“I watched several families...”

“She’s lying, she said she’d call the police if I killed someone!”

“Stop eating the vomit!”

“I never thought I’d compliment the way someone cleaned up poop.”

“78 year old Taylor swift was just staring at the mallet people.”

“I shake my spinach at you!”

“Dinosaur chicken nuggets MEAN something to me, you don’t anymore”

“Two things that I am highly invested in: murder and makeup.”

“I’m an excellent panda, frick you!”

“For someone who has a lot of skin,,,,,, crafts,,, the nipple belt isn’t too impressive.”

“I may have bloodlust, but I’m not sadistic!”

“Come on, don’t be weak! Suffer!”

“That there is one fancy chest cavity.”

“I ordered some new things to kill.”

“You make me laugh just by being you.”

“No, we are churros!”

“Always pick the volcano.”

“Wild boars. They have the power.”

“That’s the Piglet salute, you traitor!”

“You are quite bug like.”

“The flavor. The only one.”

I will add more as I remember them and as they happen.

#big mood #quotes #taken from my family

[yourdeepestfathoms]

Olly Olly Oxenfree (part four)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

TW: Victim blaming, mentions of drowning, another weed brownie

———————

all the outs in free

The mud sloshes loudly as Cathy and Joan trudge away from Fort Milner. They try not to look at the stew of muck beneath their feet, for they fear that they may see tints of red glistening in the slop.

Neither of them spoke as they walked across the field. Cathy was lost in thought, coming up with entire spider webs of theories in her head, while Joan was just in a state of shock. Her face was pale, aside from her eyes, which are still puffy and rimmed with red from crying. She had tried to wipe away the tears, but scrubbing her face with her sleeve only inflamed the skin further. She gave up after a while.

Dark mist rolled in the distance, near Main Street. Cathy watched the black fog. Sometimes she thought she could hear other footsteps stamping in the mud somewhere off in the distance. Other times it’s right behind her. She can’t be too sure.

She and Joan get to the fence that wrapped around the Comm Tower. When they looked at the metal chainlink, they didn’t feel safe, rather trapped.

It was there to keep them in.

“Hey! Hey!” Anne is running down from the ladder. “I saw you coming up from the tower!”

“How are you doing?” Joan asked.

“Umm- better.” Anne said. “No luck with the radio. It’s been what my therapist would call a ‘negative reinforcer.’ I’m just glad I took that second brownie.”

“What?” Cathy snapped.

“When did you take a second one?” Joan asked.

“Just before you came. Don’t worry about it!” Anne said as she climbs back up the ladder. If she sees the way Cathy is fuming, she ignores it.

“If that’s what you need- fine.” Joan said. It was clear she didn’t want anyone fighting at the moment.

The three of them climb up to the top of the tower where Kitty is waiting. The girl looks slightly better from when Joan and Cathy last saw her, but definitely still wry and jittery.

“Hey, Kit,” Joan waved halfheartedly. “Night’s still goin’, huh?”

“Yeah.” Kitty replied dryly. “I couldn’t get anything to work beside the speaker.”

“More than we could do,” Cathy said.

They all went into the tower cabin to get out of the cold. The wind was a lot crueler all the way up there, like it was adamant on knocking one of the teenagers off with its powerful gales. Joan shoved her next-to-numb hands into her jacket pocket, which didn’t help much since the coat was still wet from the rain at Fort Milner.

“Oh!” Anne suddenly said. “I got it! It’s Maggie Lee?”

“Maggie Lee?” Kitty echoes curiously.

“Yeah! She has a boat!” Anne went on. “Something good finally hatred loose from all this hysteria, eh? Anyway, my sister, Mary, used to work at the Park’s office. She had to deliver mail to that lady almost every day. I know there’s a key down there.”

“So, we’re gonna—”

“No!” Cathy barked. Kitty snaps her mouth shut with a small lurch of her shoulders. “No no no! We are not going to go with the first plan from the group’s resident burnout.” She wheeled around to glare at Anne when she said that.

Anne narrows her eyes and ruffled herself up. With her brown hair frizzing from her unruly, half-undone spacebuns and smaller stature than the dark-skinned girl, she looked about as intimidating as a raccoon trying to defend its piece of garbage it just stole from the rubbish bin. Her voice, however, was biting, like the chilled gales just outside the cabin.

“I am not a burnout!” She snapped.

“What other plan do we have, Cathy?” Joan said, trying to step in again.

“Oh, I don’t know! Fix the radio, find Catalina, set fire to the mug shop!” Cathy began to rattle off, “And those are just at the top of my head!”

“Those won’t do us any good.”

Cathy clenched her jaw and began stalking up to Anne. She easily towered over to paler girl, riling herself up like a smoking volcano about to blow or a mother owl who just had one of her chicks threatened- her talons are open and primed for blood.

“Anne,” She laughed harshly. Her voice is as cold and hard as a glacier. “don’t forget that this is entirely your fault to begin with.”

She seemed to forget about Joan taking all the blame at the cable car. Or, perhaps, she just didn’t want to throw her step-sister under the bus like that.

“Excuse me?”

“And now,” Cathy went on, overpowering Anne with her barbed tone. The gritting of her teeth quickly replaced the image of an owl with a timber wolf. “now you want us to trust you when things are really bad? YOU made Joan bring the radio- over twenty messages in all caps if I remember being told correctly. YOU brought us here!”

“Come on, guys, calm down!” Joan attempted to step in. “This is nobody’s fault! And if it is going to be someone’s fault, let it be mine. I already owned up to it! So...there! Blame is on me! Blood is on my hands!” Saying that last part made a sick feeling of fear coil deep in her stomach.

“Yeah, this isn’t very, uh,” Kitty tries to help cool things down, too. “Productive.”

But their efforts were in vain. Anne was pissed off, now. And Joan knew better than anyone that her anger was a deep, dark, long-running thing. The blonde steps back and pulled Kitty with her, as if she thought her friend may actually explode.

“It should be obvious that you’re the only weirdo here,” She said, going after Cathy with words laced in sickly green venom. “You are throwing all of this out of whack! We,” She gestures for her, Kitty, and Joan, “all grew up together!”

“Guys, please calm down.” Joan spoke up again. Her presence is finally reminded to the fuming pair, but not in the way she had wanted.

“Joan, I am not putting my life in this freak’s hands!” Cathy spat. She wasn’t going after Joan, in fact her eyes softened when she began talking to her step-sister, but her voice remained spiky and wrapped in shards of glass. “This entire night has been nothing but a joke to her! I mean, did you hear the first thing she said to us back up at that way station?” She does a terrible impressions of Anne’s voice, “‘I thought you were a werewolf’- like, what the fuck is up with that?! How are you even defending this bimbo?”

“Cathy!” Kitty yelped. Her eyes are wide in alarm and she glances nervously over at her cousin. She took another step back, this time being to one to pull Joan with her. It was as if she saw smoke wreathing out of Anne’s nostrils or something.

“I know you said Anne was ‘harmless’ or whatever, but the bitch ate two fucking weed brownies! In a crisis situation!” Cathy was working herself up to a proper temper. Her face was flaming red with rage, which was impressive given her darken skin color. “I’m done giving her passes. And you should, too.”

“I don’t need a pass from you.” Anne growled. “Joan is my best friend.”

That comment cut Joan deep in the heart. She had been mentally siding with Cathy, the girl did have a point, plus she was her new sister and she feared not going along with her would completely shatter their relationship, but Anne was right. They were best friends. They had been together since Joan was fostered by her mum and moved to the girl’s city.

God, she wished she didn’t have to be there right now. The ghosts were one thing, but this? She did not sign up for her relationships breaking into pieces right before her eyes.

“Oh yeah? Well, Joan is MY best friend!” Cathy barked back.

“Guys, please!” Joan shouted. “Stop it! Stop fighting!”

“Yes. Please.” Kitty agreed softly.

“Listen, I don’t care what Cavewoman Cathy says—”

“What is that?!”

“—there is a boat at Maggie Lee’s house. And the key is back on Main Street.” Anne went on, ignoring Cathy’s stupid, flabbergasted expression.

“And when your plan fails spectacularly, two of us are going to have to stay here with the semi-functioning walkie talkie.” Cathy said, crossing her arms.

“Well, Joan has the radio.” Anne also crossed her arms. If she was trying to make herself seem more mature or maybe was just trying to mimic and mock Cathy, neither Joan nor Kitty knew. “Are you okay to go to town?” She looks around Cathy’s hulking figure to look at her friend.

“Yeah,” Joan said. Sure, her throat sort of stung from yelling and the start of a panic attack was boiling up in her chest a welting sore, and there was also the whole being-wet-in-the-freezing-cold-night and persistent, never ending headache thing, but she chose to keep that to herself. “I’m fine. Ready whenever.”

“She shouldn’t go alone.” Kitty jumped back in. “Three of us don’t need to stay up here.”

“Right. I’ll go!” Anne volunteered quickly. “It was my brilliant idea in the first place.”

“Are you serious? Your food is going to kick in at any second and then you really will be a completely unreliable bimbo.” Cathy said.

“I am not a bimbo!” Anne snarled.

“Aaaagh! Stop it!” Joan growled. Her own anger was starting to bubble inside of her.

After her plea, Cathy rounds on her.

“Keeping in mind who has been with you this entire night—”

“Keeping in mind who you’re tired of!” Anne cut in.

“Keeping in mind who’s taller!” Cathy said louder. “Who do you want going with you?”

It was all so overwhelming. Joan wished they could all just go as a group, surely that was safer, anyway, but it was also just wishful thinking. If Cathy and Anne tried to get down from the tower together, Joan was sure somebody was gonna get pushed off.

She feels that coil in her stomach tighten and tighten and tighten. It becomes a painful sensation in her gut that she has no other choice but to-

“Cathy, let’s go.”

Cathy sighed in relief. “Thank you.”

“What?!” Anne cried. It was clear she hadn’t been planning for Joan to not pick her. “Why?! Why her?”

“We’re still doing your plan,” Joan said gently, hoping to cool her friend down. “Who cares about who’s on the Home and Away team?”

“But I wanna be on the Joan team.” Anne said. Her eyes looked genuinely hurt. Joan’s heart pinches painfully in her chest. “I wanna feel like— like— needed.”

The pinch gets tighter until it feels like two slim claws are trying to pull her aorta right out of her chest.

Joan tried to speak, tried to make her friend feel better, but Anne just sighed and shook her head.

“Just— just, fine, whatever. Go have fun, you two.” She said.

“It’s not supposed to be fun. That’s the point.” Cathy rolled her eyes.

“Oh god, will you just shut up?” Anne hissed.

“Okay, before things get stupid again,” Kitty said. “Good luck with the whole key thing. We’ll be waiting, guys.”

“Thanks, Kit. You’re the best.” Joan smiled at Kitty, who manages to give her one back. “But...are you gonna be okay with...the girl?”

Kitty actually laughed. “I’ll be fine. She’s just cranky.”

“I’m not cranky!” Anne grumbled from where she was very obviously sulking.

“I’ll take care of her!” Kitty assured Joan, who nodded and made her way out of the cabin with Cathy on her heels.

The trek down from the tower was silent. In fact, neither sister spoke until they were past the gate and back into the field.

“Look,” Cathy sighed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to go that far back there.”

“Mmm.” Joan merely replied. She wasn’t ignoring Cathy per se, rather putting more attention on the darkness that lurked on the path to Main Street. She shivered.

“Okay, I’m just going to clear the air, alright? Just so Anne or whoever can’t say I was hiding it.” Cathy said. Joan glances back at her momentarily. “You may have heard that I was, uh, in jail?”

Joan says nothing. She just keeps walking. It very clearly makes Cathy uneasy.

“Well,” She went on. “I never went to jail. But I did beat up a guy and go to juvenile detention for it.”

“Why’d you, uhh...why’d you do it?” Joan asked softly. The thought that her younger sister was now scared of her sent cold vines of fear creeping up through Cathy’s insides.

“My mum got sick.” She said, “And then she got really sick and this kid threw a baseball at my head, and yes he was joking, but I just kinda-“ She sighed. “I popped.”

“We all break sometimes.” Joan said. “I understand.”

“You do?” Cathy perked up a little.

“Yeah.” Joan nodded. “Trust me, I do.”

Cathy smiled a little.

“I’m glad.”

She and Joan continue their trek until they got to Main Street. Cathy was just about to ask if Joan was religious, and if she wasn’t if she was going to reconsider after that night, when she noticed a human shadow cast across the pavement.

“Oh my god, is that—”

Someone was sitting on one of the light posts, their legs swinging back and forth.

“Catalina!”

Cathy and Joan rush up to the light, their eyes wide.

“She’s alive!” Joan said. “Man, I’ve never been so happy to see you in my l-”

Static.

Joan let out a short cry of pain as static filled her mind and vision seemed to glitch out like an old TV. When she looks up, Catalina’s eyes are glowing red.

“Oh no,” Cathy muttered, stepping back. “She’s doing- she’s doing the eye thing!”

“Come on, Catalina, snap out of it! Look alive!” Joan tried. “Umm...hang in there, baby?”

“Good try.” Cathy pat her shoulder.

Joan grit her teeth. She could feel the cold metal of the radio weigh heavily in her pocket. She has no choice but to slip it out and tune in.

102.3

The first triangle forms.

95.1

The second-

“NO!!”

Joan is falling, everything is upside down and she can’t see at all, but then she’s upright again and tottering in her spot like a newborn lamb. She winces.

“You think you can control me?” Catalina asked, tilting her head slowly. Her voice is like it had been back at Fort Milner, distorted and dark.

Cathy and Joan exchange nervous looks.

“What? No! We’re not trying—“

“No, you’re not trying!” Not-Catalina said. “You’re not trying at all!”

“¥ðµ håvêñ’† ¢håñgêÐ,” Said The Sunken. Their voices appear out of nowhere, origination from an unknown source. “ñð† å ßï†. ßµ† ¥ðµ’rê å £ïñê gïrl.”

“What— what more can we do?” Joan said desperately. “We’re barely holding onto our—“

“‘What more can you do?’” Not-Catalina echoed mockingly. “You can do your job, that’s for starters. You can be what you signed up for.”

“𝕎𝕙𝕖𝕟 𝕪𝕠𝕦’𝕣𝕖 𝕠𝕗𝕗,” Crackles the radio. “𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕝𝕖 𝕞𝕒𝕔𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕖 𝕙𝕒𝕤 𝕟𝕠 𝕞𝕠𝕣𝕖 𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕒 𝕓𝕣𝕒𝕚𝕟.”

It just had to go and pipe in, didn’t it? What with Catalina- or Not-Catalina, Whatever the fuck she may be now, and those ghosts talking and all, the radio now chipping in only added to the intensity, and the terrible pressure pressing down on Joan’s skull.

“No more heart than a...” Not-Catalina’s voice trailed off and died. Her body fell like a rag doll from the lamppost.

“Is she-?” Joan swallowed thickly. “Is she, um, alive?”

“I-I don’t-”

Not-Catalina, or Catalina, now, stirs, then sat up. She blinked her normal brown eyes at the duo standing above her.

“Are you okay?” Cathy asked. “Can you remember anything that just happened?”

“I’m fine. I can— I’m fine.” Catalina stood up, brushing away the hands reaching down to her for help. “And I... I remember Fort Milner...and you two.”

“That’s it?”

“Well... I also remember that radio.” Catalina turns on Joan. “And I remember this being all your fault.”

-.-. --- ..- .-. .- --. . / .. ... / -. --- - / .- .-.. .-- .- -.-- ... / - .... . / .-- .- -.-- --..-- / -.. . .- .-. .-.-.-

The bonfire in front of the Main Street tunnel blazes slightly when Anne throws a few sticks into the flames. They get eaten away in seconds before Joan’s eyes, which are edged with a black blur. She blinked, smoke stinging them slightly, and looked up at the others.

“Wait, it’s Catalina’s turn already?” Anne asked.

“Yes, it’s my turn.” Catalina said. “I’ve been waiting this whole time!”

“Hold on-“ Joan looked around. The ocean licking against the rocky edge to the street is but a black void behind her. She snaps her head forward again, preferring to look into the foggy abyss that was the closed down tunnel behind Catalina. “What’s going on again?”

“It’s Catalina’s turn.” Kitty said.

“Yeah, it’s Catalina’s turn.” Cathy nodded.

“And you of all people should know what I’m not going at ask because I’m not going to waste it.” Catalina turned to Joan. “Joan. What did you do.”

Joan’s mouth hangs open like a fish out of water. Catalina’s judgmental stare does not pity her stunned expression.

“Tell me why my best friend, and your idiot best friend, and your new step-sister are all screwed.”

“This isn’t her fault.” Cathy stepped in quickly, already knowing things were going to get riled up.

“Cathy, I’m sorry, but you don’t know who you speak of, dear.” Catalina said.

“Catalina, seriously, I can vouch for this,” Anne said. “This isn’t her fault.”

“It has to be her fault, of course it’s her fault.”

Joan clenched her fists. The numbness in her fingers dissipates for a moment. Bubbling anger feels hot in her belly.

“Why?” Joan snapped. “Why does it have to be my fault?”

“Why does it have to be your fault? Are you serious?”

Joan clenches her jaw, glaring daggers at Catalina.

“You’re gonna learn, Cathy, I swear to god. The whole town looks at her like she’s got a fucking Scarlet Letter tattooed on her forehead, and the giant, lit up, Christmas tree reason why is that Maria is dead because of her!”

A near subzero sensation spreads through Joan’s entire body, and not because of the temperature outside. Then, the chill is overcome by molten lava-like fury that bubbles up like pus from an abscess.

“It would take a really sick person to see it that way, and I would love to hear your explanation!”

“Maria was going to be free! She was going to be out of here until this one convinced her to go swimming one last time.” Catalina stopped her pacing. Her eyes are cold and hard. “And she drowned. Maria drowned, while this one could barely flap her arms.”

All eyes turned to stare.

“That doesn’t make it my fault!” Joan cried. “Anyone could have been there— anyone— and then they would’ve watched her die, you unbelievable cunt!”

“‘Anyone’ wouldn’t have watched her die, Joan. Anyone else would have done something!” Catalina snapped back.

“Okay, enough!” Cathy steps in between the two. “Seriously. I can’t even believe we’re talking about this right now.”

“Cathy,” Joan scampered up to Cathy like a lost lamb would to its mother. She grips tightly to her step-sister’s sleeve. “Cathy, it was awful- it’s still awful... I-”

Cathy set a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I know. It’s okay, I know. But right now we’re going to break into that office, find that key, an we’re going to go home.”

“No.” Catalina said.

Cathy snapped her head around to the older girl. Her teeth are gritted. She’s clearly had enough.

“No?” She echoed, anger lacing her voice. “What do you mean, no?”

“Aagh!!” Pain lances through Joan’s head. Then Cathy’s head. Then Anne and Kitty’s. Catalina began to float into the air.

“All the outs in free.....”

What happens next is nothing short of a whirlwind. Cathy and Joan get jarred out of the time loop and, like the many times before, Cathy only has vague memory of being in it. However, by the pale, shaken expression on her step-sister’s face, she knew it couldn’t have been good.

When she asks, Joan says she doesn’t want to talk about it.

They break into the park building and find the key in the form of another pocket radio, this one with more stations.

It does not feel right in her hands.

As they’re walking back to meet up with the others, Cathy reads off a letter written by Maggie Lee, which talks about how the history of Edward’s Island was a lie and how she buried these secrets all over the area. The letter ends and, after the sister discussing the news, Cathy began to say something else as they passed the path that led down to the beach.

“Joey, why are you wearing that jacket? It’s, like, seventy-five degrees and the sun’s out!”

“What? It’s cold—”

Soft, fuzziness floods her mind. Her vision distorts, but her body doesn’t seem to react. Her muscles are calm...relaxed. She’s at peace for the first time that night.

“—and the sun is only kinda out.”

“No, see! Look! Sunlight!”

A voice ahead laughs. “Maria, we didn’t bring drinks.”

Joan was giggling, too, but then the noise catches painfully in her throat.

“Wait— Maria?!”

Her older sister grins at her. Her curly hair is done back in a rare ponytail- she usually prefers to have it down and frame her face in a way that makes her look like a lion. The smile painted on her pink lips would make even the sun jealous of its perfect glow.

“The one and only!” She chirped. At her side, Catalina chuckles lovingly.

“Where- where’s Cathy?!” Joan looked around frantically. That panic attack from before starts to rise up again, desperate to overcome her.

“Cathy? Who’s Cathy?” Catalina asked curiously. Her voice is so sweet when she talks to Joan, not laced with hidden poison or barbed with vision sarcasm, but genuinely loving towards the younger girl. “Is someone else coming?”

“Yeah, is that a friend of yours?” Maria added.

“You wanna know who Cathy is?” Joan grits. She’s tired of losing her every single hour. “She’s my new step-sister.”

She sees Catalina and Maria’s eyes widen.

“Now do you know what’s happening?”

She thinks they get it, but then Catalina and Maria began to laugh. They continued their trek down to the beach and Joan’s legs follow them without her command.

“Okay, can you call your new friend your ‘best friend’ or something?” Maria asked, giggling. “‘Step-sister’ is kinda approaching into my territory.”

“Yeah, it’s like when my mum calls her cat her ‘special little lady.’ I mean, I’m standing right there!” Catalina put in. She looked so happy...and not evil.

“Wh— why— why am I here?” Joan squeaked. She’s getting weak in the knees. She thinks she was going to be sick.

“You said you wanted to go to the beach.” Maria said.

“Good choice, too,” Catalina said. “Today turned out to be a flawless day.”

The nausea seems to melt away as they got down to the beach and stepped onto the sand. When Joan looked at the ocean, she felt no fear, no anxiety, no trauma-induced pain. Just...serenity and curiosity for the sparkling blue body of water.

Her mind feels like it was melting, but the sensation sends a ripple of peace through her body, almost like morphine. She calms by degrees in a matter of seconds. To be honest, she can barely remember what she had been freaking out about moments earlier... Even when Maria proclaims she forget her phone on the ferry and Joan and Catalina left alone on the beach when she ran up to go get it, she felt no nervousness.

She sat down across from Catalina.

“I’m glad we could do this today.” The older girl said. “I know you two are close and all I know it can be annoying to have the girlfriend around, but...”

Joan smiled slightly. “Yeah, I- I would love to. Really.”

Catalina beams. “I’m glad! And, hey, Mars loves you a lot. I mean, I’m sure you already know that, but seriously. She talks about you all the time.”

Joan giggled, blushing slightly. “Thank you for telling me.”

“Yeah, of course!”

“Had to fight the skipper for it, but he didn’t expect many squats I could do,” Maria said as she walked back over.

All three girls laughed.

Catalina excuses herself after Maria got settled to go but some drinks up at the shop, leaving Maria and Joan alone.

“I’ve missed you,” Joan whispered. “I-I know we live in the same house and everything, but- I missed you, Mars.”

“Aww,” Maria cooed. “I missed you, too, JoJo. Also, hey, I know this was supposed to be our day, but I completely forget that I promised Catalina that I would do something with her. Thanks for chaperoning.”

“No problem.” Joan said.

“It’s really important to me that you like her, so tell me the truth. What do you really think of us being together?”

Joan didn’t even have to process the question.

“Stick with it. Stay with her.” She said. “If she makes you laugh, if she makes you smile...who am I to think otherwise?”

Maria lit up brightly. “Thank you! Good blessings and good tidings!” She and Joan laugh. “Hey, I’ve never noticed that that’s a good jacket. I should ask for it back. My new one sucks. Feels like I got...shoes on my arms or something.”

Joan pulled the soft grey jacket closer around her. “No way, bucko!”

“Bucko?” Maria laughed. “You haven’t called me that in years! Come here- let me at least see if it still fits.”

“Fine!” Joan groaned. “But even if it does, I’m not giving it back!”

Maria scoots over and reaches to grab the jacket when Joan takes it off. When their hands brush each other, everything cuts to static.

#olly olly oxenfree #six fanfic #six the musical fanfiction #six the musical fanfic #six the musical au #six the musical #joan on the keys #katherine howard #catherine parr #anne boleyn #maria on the drums #catherine of aragon #tw: drowning #tw: victim blaming

[matriarchofthehhc]

Heather Arroyo

A Prodigal Son mpreg fic by Charlotte Crema

It was a nice, balmy, night and a cool breeze was sweeping through the treetops.  It was still fairly warm outside, but Gil decided to leave the windows open anyway to let the breeze blow through his bedroom as he slept. It’d been a particularly long day for him at the office. It was his last day of work before he went on maternity leave and everybody decided to throw him a mini baby shower in the meeting room. His coworkers were all so supportive. His dresser was cluttered with all the cards they had given him. However, the best gift of all was not among the many gifts in his living room, oh no. This gift was on his nightstand in a small white box with a sheer pink ribbon tied around it. It was from Malcolm and Gil was specifically instructed not to open it until the baby was born. He had talked with Malcolm earlier that week about helping him find a name for the baby. He knew it was a girl…but he was stuck between two very good names for her. Heather or Dorothy? Heather or Dorothy? The question spun in his brain like a washing machine. He finally gave up and decided that Malcolm would get to pick what the baby’s name was since he was to be her godfather. It was a relief when Malcolm agreed to help...but when he handed the box to Gil only a day or so after Gil had asked him for help...well...needless to say it was confusing. But since Malcolm was his friend, he was not about to break the rules that were given to him and open the box.

Gil was sleeping peacefully, gently cradling his belly and relishing how the cool breeze coming in from the bedroom window caressed his skin. He hadn’t been sleeping so well for the past week or so because the baby had been kicking like crazy in the middle of the night which kept him awake. Earlier that day, he’d felt the baby drop so he knew it wouldn’t be long before he’d get to meet his little girl. Sure, he was nervous. He was a little bit older than what is considered safe to have a baby. But even so he couldn’t help but feel excited too. He smiled, chuckling softly to himself as he caressed his belly. “Hey there, sweetie.” he murmured, “I dunno if you can hear me in there when I’m talking so low...but...I just want you to know I love you no matter what. Ok? You’re MY baby girl and I promise I’ll protect you. Whatever it takes.” The baby, as if to respond, pressed her tiny foot against Gil’s hand. He chuckled, using the tip of his finger to trace her foot. “I love you so much, darling.” He chuckled as he felt the baby kick and squirm in response.

He had just drifted off to sleep when all of a sudden he felt a little zip of pain run through his lower back. He brushed it off, thinking it was just another cramp, but then he felt a teeny trickle of fluid down his leg. He immediately jumped up and headed to the bathroom, but by the time he got there to grab a towel, it had stopped. He sighed and went back to is room, muttering under his breath about a stupid false alarm when all of a sudden there was a HUGE gush of fluid that rushed out and hit the floor with a smack. “OH COME ON!” he cried, “YOU WAITED TIL I WAS OUT OF THE BATHROOM TO DO THIS?!” He groaned and headed back to the bathroom, grabbing a large towel to mop up the puddle of water with. Things didn’t really get much easier for him once his water broke. The tiny zip soon turned into a dull ache that he usually felt with braxton hicks contractions, and then to a slightly more intense cramping sensation. He paced about his bedroom, working on his breathing exercises and rubbing his belly. It seemed to help take the edge off, but it was still uncomfortable nonetheless. He tried to stay as calm as possible, but he couldn’t help but worry that something may go wrong. The whole time he was pacing he debated whether he should call a doctor or not. He sighed and rubbed his belly as another contraction took hold of him. “We’ll be ok. Right, kiddo?” he said softly, “We can do this.”

Gil had been pacing for about an hour and a half when he felt a strong contraction wrack his body. He stopped to lean against a wall, breathing through the pain. “You know something?” he said, “These past- ooooh…..these past nine months were the best months of my life.” He chuckled and rubbed his belly. “And the one I have to thank for all that is you, baby. You’re the best thing I’ve ever had in my life.” As if to respond, the baby gave a little kick against Gil’s palm. He chuckled and traced the outline of her teeny foot pressing against his belly, playfully tapping the sole of her foot to make her squirm. Gil smiled and began to hum softly as he rubbed his belly, resuming his pacing.

Another hour and forty five minutes of pacing and the contractions were only getting worse. It had gotten to the point where he would let out involuntary whimpers and grunts. It also certainly didn’t help that his nervous tic of chewing on his lip had flared up. His lips were gonna be raw and possibly bleeding by the time he was 10 centimeters dilated.

Two hours later Gil was slammed with the most powerful contraction he’d ever felt. It was powerful enough that he couldn’t stay standing, letting out a yelp as he crumpled to the floor, clutching his belly. He whimpered, curling into a ball and trembling as he tried to breathe through the pain. “C’mon, baby...take it easy…” he murmured, “Don’t wanna kill me, do you?” Suddenly, another contraction hit, making him cry out again. As soon as the contraction ended he let out a sob of pain, his shaking getting worse as he tried to get up, only to crumple back to the floor. “Oooowwww…”

Half an hour later and poor Gil was breaking out in a cold sweat. His entire body was shaking from the pain and there were tears forming in his eyes. He’d managed to pull himself onto the bed, but the pain wasn’t getting any better. All he could do was toss and turn as he tried to find a comfortable position. After a good ten minutes of squirming about like this, he felt the telltale urge to start pushing. He quickly stripped himself of his boxers and propped himself up against the pile of pillows on his bed. Taking a slow, deep breath, Gil spread his legs, hooking his hands under his knees before bearing down as hard as he could, letting out a blood curdling scream. He could feel the baby’s head pushing it’s way past his cervix and beginning to crown at an agonizingly slow pace. Tears were beginning to trickle down his cheeks as he pushed, his body beginning to shake from the strain. He stopped for a minute, letting out a sob as he tried to take deep, shaky breaths. He started panicking when he felt the head slip back in, letting out a frantic yelp before bearing down once again, whimpering as he bit down hard on his lip, his teeth digging deep enough into the skin to draw blood. “Come out, come out, come out, please…” he whimpered as he continued to push. To his relief the head came out rather quickly, the widest part rushing out with a pop. He let out a gasp, falling back on the pillow. His body was still shaking violently as he breathed heavily. He slipped his hand between his legs and let his fingertips gently caress the top of the baby’s head. He shakily cradled the slippery head in his hand, the pad of his thumb softly stroking the temple. “H-hi sweetie…..” he whispered, “Daddy’s here….I- aaaagh…….I got you, baby girl…”

Pushing out the shoulders was an agonizing ordeal. He’d heard from so many women that the head was supposed to be the most painful part. Ha! What a bunch of bullshit. Pushing out the baby’s shoulders made him scream in agony because they were so broad. Luckily, it didn’t take long to get them out and the rest of the baby girl followed seconds later. As soon as he felt the baby’s body slip out he let out a loud sob and fell back onto the pillows, his whole body shaking like a leaf.

It was only a few seconds later when a loud wail ripped through the room. It was loud enough it made Gil jump. He shakily sat up and picked up his little girl, hugging her to his chest. “Hi baby girl…hi…” he whispered, tears falling down his face, “Daddy’s here, sweetie. It’s ok.” He kissed her on the forehead and gently rocked her in his arms, softly humming a sweet lullaby.

A few minutes later, after delivering the placenta, cutting the cord, and cleaning his daughter, he remembered something. The box! He quickly grabbed it off the nightstand, babe still in arms, and opened the box with one hand while holding his daughter. Once the box was opened he lifted out a gorgeous onyx bracelet with the name Heather engraved in gold on one of the beads. He smiled. Inside was a note from Malcolm. “Gil. This is a present for your daughter for her 16th birthday. Attached is the story of the bracelet for her to read when she opens this box. Keep it safe until then. Malcolm Bright.” Gil smiled and put the bracelet back in the box. He hugged Heather close and kissed her gently on the forehead. “I love you my darling. Always and forever.” he murmured, gently caressing her head. Heather cooed and Nuzzled against her mother before falling asleep in Gil’s arms.

#mpreg #prodigal son #gil arroyo