Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/11434515.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Fullmetal_Alchemist_-_All_Media_Types
  Relationship:
      Cain/Rosé_Thomas, Father_Cornello/Rosé_Thomas
  Character:
      Rosé_Thomas, Father_Cornello
  Additional Tags:
      Rape, Consent_Issues, Dubious_Consent, Gross, Unhealthy_Relationships,
      toxic, REALLY_GROSS, it's_not_supposed_to_be_sexy, Underage_Sex, This_is
      pretty_much_rape, Sexual_Harassment, Emotional_Manipulation, Clerical
      Sexual_Abuse, you_can't_convince_me_Cornello_didn't_do_this_to_someone,
      One_Shot, Sex, Heterosexual_Sex, Underage_just_in_case, IDK_how_old_she
      is
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-07-08 Words: 1208
****** Mystery Cult ******
by Boethiah
Summary
     Rosé feels sick.
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
When Father Cornello shows up at her doorstep, it’s with a soaked cassock and a
downcast face. Outside, the rain blows – Rose beckons him in, placing the
umbrella outside.
She scurries into the kitchen to prepare some tea. He appreciates how she
remembered his favorite – earl grey, from the picnic the two once hosted
together. Taking off his cassock, he sits on the worn couch, clad only in an
undershirt and shorts.
“I came here to ask you a favor.” he says. When he speaks, it’s not in the
deep, booming voice she’s accustomed to; it’s the gentle tone he takes whenever
he’s speaking to someone one-on-one. Rose hasn’t even sipped her own cup of tea
and already she feels soothed by his voice.
Rose nods. “Sure, Father. Anything.”
She comes to regret her choice of words later.
Father Cornello has a look of shame on his face. Rose has seen him sullen and
grave before, yes, but never ashamed. He opens his mouth halfway as if to say
something before casting his eyes downward again.
“What’s the matter, Father?”
“Have a seat next to me.” he says, patting the adjacent space on the couch. She
complies without saying a word.
It’s when she sits down that she notices the way Father Cornello’s been gazing
at her. Usually, his stare is a source of comfort; a reprieve from a
frightening, cold world. This time it’s different. This time, his eyes gleam
with passion, with an unspoken want. A hunger.
To reassure her, he places his hand on her shoulder.
“My child, I…” He looks into her eyes for a moment before trailing back. “…I’ve
been thinking lately. About you. About Cain.”
Rose pinches her eyes shut at the memory. Father Cornello toys with a strand of
her hair.
“I know how lonely you’ve been after his d – his passing. I reassure you that
the time will come when you meet him again.” His hand trails downward to feel
the smoothness of her arm – she pretends she doesn’t notice. “But before that,
I’ve been thinking about him. About the urges he satisfied.”
She blushes scarlet at the mention. Rose’s no innocent child; there were times
when the two had snuck out after one of Father Cornello’s sermons, hand in
hand, for the sake of some “independent reflection.” Rose pushes his hand away
in faux-surprise; Cornello merely reasserts it, gripping onto her arm.
Was he…
“There’s no need to be ashamed, Rose. Physical love is one of Leto’s many gifts
to us.” He snakes his arm up to cup her chin slightly. “And that’s the reason I
came here.”
Father Cornello sighs. “I don’t have anyone of my own, as you know. I’ve never
married or even romanced anyone. I’m too old for that.” he says, looking
forlorn. “I was wondering if you could…perhaps…”
Rose decides to voice her dissent. “Father, are you asking – are you asking me
to…”
“Come now, child. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” His smile is as
gentle as ever, but under the lamplight and leaning towards her it’s warped
into a menacing grin. “Nobody has to know.”
She considers her options for a moment. No-one would believe her if she told
them – the police are as ardent listeners to his sermons as she is. And what
would he say if he found out she tried to tell them? How would she be…
No. Rose pushes the thoughts to the back of her mind. She should be ashamed of
herself for thinking such things about Father Cornello.
“And after all, aren’t you lonely too?” He puts his hands on her shoulders,
more forcefully this time. “Don’t you feel those same passions, those animal
desires?”
Rose rubs her legs. He’s correct as always. Lonely, shameful nights spent
toying with herself, missing the touch only he could give – only a man could
give. She nods.
“Give yourself to me, my child.” He massages her shoulders. “Let me…ease your
burden. Nobody has to know.”
She squelches the tiny voice of protest inside of her. This was wrong. This was
Father Cornello, the heart and soul of this town, and he – and he –
He cups her cheek again and looks into her eyes, his face fixed in a solemn
expression. “Say yes.” he says, and she doesn’t know whether it’s a request or
a demand. Rose’s head spins.
“…yes.” It isn’t said, barely whispered, but he can hear it. But it isn’t
enough.
“Say it again, Rose. I need to know that you want this.”
“Yes, Father. I want this.”
She can’t look him in the eye. “I want you.”
The first thing she remembers happening after that is his hands hoisting her up
from the sofa and dragging her into her one-woman bedroom, followed by the
creaking of her mattress against the weight of her body.
He tears off her nightdress by the straps, kneading the soft flesh beneath.
Whatever resistance her legs put up isn’t enough to stop him from prying them
open and gripping them. He kisses her and it’s a smother, a choking grip that
leaves her gasping for air. Then his mouth’s at her neck, lips nipping at the
flesh of her neck, tongue slobbering on her breasts and trailing down her
stomach…
Father Cornello is nothing like Cain. Cain was at his worst an inattentive
lover; Father Cornello is nothing but intent, nothing but a need to slake.
As he dives between her legs, Rose winces. He thrusts hard inside of her,
shaking her against the mattress – what little pleasure she feels from the act
is overwhelmed by the pain and disgust that overcomes her. He’s grunting now,
his flabby body pushed to its limits by lust and ecstasy and –
Rose screams as he yanksher by the hair and at that moment, his release spills
inside of her. His cock pulls out and dribbles fluid on her stomach. Fingers
open and loose strands fall onto the bedsheets, followed by his body collapsing
upon her.
They lay there for a while as the sputtering noises from his throat die down.
Rose breathes in relief – his weight against her is as heavy as ever, but at
least he isn’t hurting her anymore.
Cornello rolls off her body and lies still for a bit. Rose’s eyes wander up to
stare at the ceiling – nothing else occupies her thoughts.
He tosses about and she turns to look at him. This is the time he’s visited
her, but he’s lying on the bed like it’s his own. Like he knows exactly where
he is and why he’s there.
Was he…planning this?
No. It was a moment of weakness.
“Father, I…” she says, in a small voice.
“Shut up.” His voice is low, guttural. Authoritarian. Rose complies.
Cornello heaves himself off the bed. “Goodbye, Rose.” he says, in the kind
voice she’s more comfortable with. “And thank you.”
She stares back at the wall. He said he’d sate her, ease her burden…then why
did she hurt more instead of less? He’d given her so much…then why did she feel
like he’d taken something from her tonight? Was she really so ungrateful for
his help?
Outside, the umbrella lies in a puddle of rainwater.
End Notes
     I do not intend to write more of this. Do not ask me to write more.
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!