#chosen is on the verge of a panic attack at any given moment i think
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more human sticks âď¸
alan sometimes tries to resolve disputes between the CG and Chosen i think (such as all the snacks Mysteriously Disappearing while everyone in the CG insists they didn't take them all) but I don't think he'd be a huge fan of trying to negotiate with Chosen; which is partially due to them getting a little violent when he tries to get them to stop doing something but moreso due to him still feeling terrible about everything still
#pitch posts#the cg get a little huffy initially about him letting chosen get away with so much though#red gets scolded for biting green while chosen gets away with stealing snacks#SC is more understanding of it though i think. they don't fully know what happened to chosen but they. uh. Have a Feeling#the others are more understanding when they see chosen finally come out of their room#and they realize Chosen is terrified of just about everything going on#tommy's stickmen tag#pitch's art#tommy's aus#chosen is on the verge of a panic attack at any given moment i think#human sticks au
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Mominette: Changes
Conner got a message from Marinette.
As soon as he saw the words "Something happened", he didnât even wait for the rest.
He immediately got to Paris and burst into the Bakery. Tom and Sabine looked confused and worried, but let him go upstairs to where Mari and Adrien were.
The normal thrum of his siblings was weak, almost muted.
He rushed up to Marinetteâs room, his mind racing the entire way. Was everyone safe? Are they okay? What happened?
He burst into the room.
He saw Marinette and Adrien. They're fine, but worried and Marinette looked almost on the verge of a panic attack. Adrien was comforting Marinette and getting her to breathe.
He saw Plagg and Tikki. They're fine. But similarly looked worried.
He glanced around again, growing more agitated.
He seaw Adrien and Mari. He seaw Plagg and Tikki. He did not see his siblings.
He was about to askâmore like demand what happened.
But was interrupted by a voice heâd never heard before.
"Conny?"
He turned to the chaise where there are three children wrapped in a blanket.
Three human children.
He could barely feel it, but the magic was still there, in them.
âWhatâŚhappened?â He asked the duo. Because this was definitely not normal.
âItâs an akuma.â Adrien explained, being the calmer of the two at the moment. âShe has the power to bring toys to life, butâŚtheyâre already alive.â He shrugged, helplessly.
âMy magic inside of them mixed with the akumaâs.â Marinette said, looking extremely worried. âIf we defeat the akuma and return everything to normal, who knows what will happen to them?â
Tikki nuzzled Marinette, mournfully. âIâm sorry, Marinette. This has never happened before.â
Connerâs attention had turned back to the three. All of whom somehow looked smaller despite being bigger than before.
The boyâblond hair and green eyedâChatonâreached out a hand for him. And Conner couldnât stop himself from reaching back in turn.
The boy smiled.
âConny.â
The girlsâone with dark blue hair, the other fully blackâLittlebug and Minimouseâlooked up at him. One curled in on herself and shivered. The other moved the blanket and patted the chaise, a clear invitation for him to join them.
HeâŚreally wanted to.
They look all of four years old. Bigger than they had been as dolls, but oh so much more fragile. Chatonâs hand in his own was so tiny and he couldnât help but worry he would hurt him.
âMâcold.â Minimouse murmured, shivering.
And that pretty much settled it.
Within seconds, Conner was sitting on the chaise with all three siblings wrapped up in the blanket and curled into him.
âIâll watch them.â He assured his parents.
The two paused, looking back to him in concern.
âConnerâŚâ
âYou both need to defeat the akuma, right? Iâll protect them.â He promised. And he meant it.
âIt may help.â Plagg rationalized. âHeâs got your magic, Spots.â
âPlagg?â
âThereâs conflicting magic in your kids right now.â He explained. âThe longer it stays, the more trouble it can cause. So the sooner you take out the akuma, the better. And he can keep them stable in the meantime.â
âButâŚwhat about after?â Marinette asked, still very much worried.
Tikki hung her head. âPlaggâs right. We wonât know until itâs over. But it would be best to resolve this quickly.â
Marinette looked over to her children, biting her lip in worry.
Conner nodded to her. âIâll keep them safe.â
Adrien rested a hand on her shoulder. âCâmon. LetâsâŚletâs be quick.â
Both of them were clearly holding back tears as they kissed each of their kids on the head just in case. With whispered words, they transformed and were gone, leaving Conner alone with his siblings.
Conner did have magic from Marinette. It was weak due to the conflict with his Kryptonian DNA, but it was there. It was the link that let him bond with his family. It allowed him to sense where they were and how they were doing. And now, it let him help with the maelstrom inside the three tiny bodies clutching to him.
But there was only so much he could do. Due to his limited magic and limited experience in using it, he was only able to mostly serve as a rock to try and keep the three grounded.
âConnyâŚhurtsâŚâ
Perhaps for the first time, he actually cursed his Kryptonian side.
âI know.â He said softly, trying to soothe them.
All he could do was try to hold them together while waiting for the akuma to be defeated and hope that there would still be four of them when Ladybug and Chat Noir returned.
âItâll be okay.â
__________________________
By the time the akuma was defeated, the three had passed out and Conner was exhausted. He barely responded to the two thuds on the balcony above them or the sound of the door springing open.
âConner?! CONNER!â
âMomâŚ?â
She knelt in front of him, tired and worried. He didnât like that expression. He wanted to reassure her, but apparently he didnât feel any better than she looked.
âHey!â
Oops. Sorry, Mom.
âMarinette. You need to cast the Cure.â Dad told her, firmly.
âButâŚwhat ifâŚ?â
âDonât overthink it.â He said, taking her hand in his and resting his forehead against her own. âTrust your magic.â
âYou cân do it, Mom.â Conner whispered.
She clenched her eyes shut, but nodded.
Would there be any permanent effect of this?
Would they go back to being normal non-magical dolls?
Would they be okay?
PleaseâŚplease let them be okay.
âMiraculous Ladybug!â
The Cure swept through the room and then throughout Paris. But all three only had eyes for the children and the effect the Cure would have.
Conner felt rejuvenated by the effects of the loveliness. His energy and focus restored, he looked down to the three children clinging to him.
To find three still very human children clinging to him. Asleep. But oh so alive.
âTheyâre alive.â Conner reported, awed.
âTheyâreâŚbut theyâre human?â Adrien asked in astonishment. He separated from Plagg before moving forward and touching Chaton, ruffling his hairâand yeah, that was real, all right. He looked up to Plagg and Tikki as she also reformed. âTheyâre justâŚtheyâre human now?â
Marinette gaped. âBut how? I meanâis this okay? Are they okay? Did it not work?â She was almost on the verge of panicking again.
Minimouse didnât like the noise, apparently, as she frowned in discomfort and curled more into Connerâs side. Conner placed a hand on her head, soothing her.
Tikki floated down to her as well and kissed her head for a moment. She appeared to be sensing somethingâanalyzing, maybe? A minute passed before she parted from Minimouse and looked up at the three.
âItâs settled. The akumaâs magic is gone.â
âButâŚwhy are they like this then?!â Marinette asked.
âThe Cure restored everything to how it should be.â Tikki explained.
âShouldnât they be dolls then?â Adrien asked. âNot that Iâm complaining.â Because he certainly preferred his kids alive regardless. But this wasâŚa surprise to say the least.
Tikki nodded to her chosen. âConner received magic from you, Marinette. But as a result of the process made to make him, his magic is naturally rooted in stability and grounding.â
Conner blinked in surprise at that. âIs that how Iâm able to have Kryptonian powers and magic?â
âIn a way, yes. Your magic has focus in boosting your abilities and stabilization. When you used it to deal with the warring magic in your siblings, you did help stabilize them, but youâŚumâŚapparently convinced them that this is how they should be.â
Connerâs eyes widened. He looked up at the gaping Marinette and Adrien in shock. As well as growing horror as the full extent of what heâd seemingly done hit him.
âIâŚI didnât mean to.â
Well, he did, apparently. But he didnât know this would happen. He hadnât meant to change themâor keep them changed. Heâd justâŚwanted to anchor them. To keep them alive and safe. He hadnât wanted to force anything on them.
In an instant, arms enveloped him and he was in the comforting and reassuring hold of his mother.
âYou did everything you could for them and more.â
He felt his eyes watering.
âIâm so proud of you, Conner.â
Okay, yeah. Definitely watering.
Another hand rested on his shoulder. He glanced to the side and saw a smiling Adrien.
âItâs a surprise. And itâll be different. But we can make this work.â
âButâŚbut I changed them.â Conner murmured, uncertain.
âThey were already changed.â Plagg replied in a blasĂŠ manner, floating lazily nearby. âYou just held them together so the warring magics wouldnât rip them apart. And given that theyâre each more magical than youâno offense, kidâyou arenât capable of forcing them into a form if they didnât want it.â
Conner froze. âWaitâŚwhat?â
Plagg rolled his eyes. âIf they wanted to be dolls again, they would be. Keep up, kid.â
Tikki gave a giggle. âI think they wanted to be like you, Conner.â
He blushed. âTheyâŚwhat?â
But she had a point, didnât she? The Dolls didnât get to move about as openly as he did. They werenât understood easily by anyone outside of himself, their parents, or the kwamis. They struggled to do things he could accomplish with ease. And though they liked that he would carry and hug themâŚthey sometimes looked like they wanted to return the favor.
Conner had been jealous of them. Wishing in some ways he had been more like them. Heâd never considered they could have felt the same towards him.
Even in their sleep, the three clung to him.
They were like thisâŚbecause theyâd wanted it. And heâd helped them keep it.
He drew them a little closer. And in turn allowed himself to be drawn closer as well when Marinette and Adrien also joined them in the growing cuddle pile.
All six of them stayed together for a while after that.
There would be things to do because of this. Arrangements would need to be made. Explanations given. History and paperwork and legalities.
But for now, they were together and safe.
#ml fic#mominette#dolls au#ml crossover#dc crossover#conner kent#superboy#marinette dupain cheng#ladybug#adrien agreste#chat noir#plagg#Tikki#chaton noir#littlebug#minimouse#young justice#dolls to children au
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Kitten Love
Hello! This fic was written for @anotherblog1234, who youâll find more on instagram or deviantart than on tumblr! Psyclopathe, I hope you enjoy this fluffy one shot! :D
@mlsecretsanta
Marinette isn't complaining when Adrien suddenly asked her out, although she *is* very worried about their first date... Meanwhile, Adrien - who hadn't thought this through - is struggling to come up with a good first date idea.
Enjoy!
Read on
Ao3
.
Adrien paced back and forth in front of the windows in his rooms. His face was a mask of determination and his hands were folded behind his back as he put all his focus into the task at hand. He suddenly stopped and stood straight, turning on his heels to face Plagg as he put his fist in his hand. Naturally, the cat kwami was simply watching him, bored out of his mind.
âOkay, Iâve got it - Imagine this,â Adrien began, âA candlelit dinner at the most prestigious restaurant in all of Paris. I hire a violinist to accompany us. The perfect, classic romantic date.â Adrien put his hands on his hips and grinned.
To his annoyance, Plagg just yawned and scratched behind his ears. After a few moments he looked back at Adrien. âOh? Was that all? I assumed there was something more than that.â
Crossing his arms, Adrien pouted and asked, âWhatâs wrong with a classic candlelit dinner?â
ââClassicâ, huh? Unoriginal, overdone, cliche.â Plagg shrugged. âI mean, I donât care either way, but if youâre gonna bother me about this, at least make it something new.â
âYeah, okay, fine.â Adrien rolled his eyes and got back to pacing, ignoring the gross eating noises Plagg was making. If two years wasnât enough to help him tune it out, nothing would be. His eyes widened and he snapped his fingers. âWhat about a theater production? Or maybe an opera!â A grin spread across his face. âSheâs gone to plays before, so Iâm sure sheâd love this one!â
Frustratingly, Plagg remained unmoved. In a deadpan voice, he said, âRight, staying quiet for hours at a time in the dark, surrounded by strangers. Ideal stuff for talking and getting to know each other.â
âWe know plenty about each other!â
âKid, look me in the eye and tell me you donât want to spend the whole date learning about her.â
Adrien struggled to meet his kwamiâs face and folded immediately, his shoulders hunching forward in a sad slouch.
âBesides,â Plagg continued, ignoring his chosenâs distress, âI know you and youâd probably take her somewhere way too high class.â
âIt is what she deserves,â Adrien said, glaring at Plagg.
âBut isnât not what sheâs used to. For someone like Marinette, it would all be too overwhelming. Think something simpler, more down to earth.â Plagg pulled out his second cheese wheel. Adrien was running out of time with Plagg being even moderately invested in helping plan this date.
âDown to earth⌠What about a trip to our cabin at the Alps? Thatâs pretty earthy, right? And itâd be just the two of us for a weekend. Well,â Adrien conceded, âand maybe the Gorilla stopping by to check up on us.â
Plagg stared at him. âThis is a first date, young man. Not a honeymoon. Youâll give her a heart attack if you do something like that.â
âPlagg!â Adrien whined. âWhat should I do! Youâve shot down all of my ideas.â
âJeez, kid, just go somewhere that youâre both together and having fun.â The kwami gulped down the last of his cheese and zoomed into the air. âNow leave me out of this!â
The last thing Adrien saw of Plagg as he vanished under the bedsheets was his ears and long tail. He put a hand to his chin.
âTogether⌠having funâŚâ
Adrienâs face brightened. This idea was bound to be a winner!
--------------
âMarinette, you look fine. You can stop that now.â
She paused in the middle of another brush stroke and shot her kwami a desperate look. âI canât just look âfineâ, Tikki! I have to look perfect!â
âSomehow, I donât think Adrien will be able to tell the difference between your tenth and your fiftieth time brushing your hair.â Tikki glanced toward the pile of clothes on her bed. âOr, for that matter, your second or tenth outfit.â
âBut I need to-â
Tikki zoomed in front of her face. âRelax, Marinette. He already cares about you. The fact that he asked you out is already proof of that. And besides,â she added, landing on her shoulder, âdidnât he say to dress casually? Surely you wonât need to worry too much about your hair if thatâs the case.â
âI⌠guess,â Marinette said, biting her lower lip. She stood up and started pacing her room. âBut this could be my one and only chance to make sure he falls for me. I have to really nail it. Otherwise, I might lose him for good.â
âMarinette⌠I know for sure that he thinks the world of you. There isnât anything you can do to scare him off now.â
âYou canât know that! I donât even know what Iâm going to say when he gets here!â
Tikki seemed like she was about to respond when her antennae twitched and she glanced toward the trapdoor. She smiled and said, âYouâd better figure it out fast,â before phasing into Marinetteâs purse.
There wasnât any time to puzzle out what she meant before there was a knock on her door.
âHello?â Came a very familiar voice. âYour parents said you were up here. Can I come in?â
A surge of panic filled her as she glanced around her room at the many Adrien posters and she dove for the door, blocking it with her body. Her drastic measures werenât necessary as Adrien didnât even try to open it.
âAre you okay? I thought I heard something fall.â
âY-yes! Iâm fine! Just, um, just finishing getting ready. I- Iâll meet you in the living room?â
There was a pause from just below her. âOkay. Take your time!â
She listened to him trudge downstairs before letting out a sigh of relief. Tikki emerged from her purse and crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes at her chosen.
âWhat? I canât have him see all this!â She gestured to the pictures of Adrien modeling and the pile of discarded clothes. âNow I just⌠sit here for a minute and go into the living room.â
âYou know,â Tikki replied while looking at one of the larger posters, âyou probably can take them down soon.â A smile warmed her tiny face as she turned her attention to Marinette. âThen you can start replacing them with pictures you take on your future dates.â
Her heart raced and her head felt light as she stood up. âFuture⌠datesâŚ?â
âMhm. The ones I know you two will have.â Tikki returned to her purse, poking her head out as she added, âNow go get that boy!â
Marinette nodded resolutely and marched down the stairs. She could do this! All this time, sheâd been getting better talking to Adrien. Getting to understand him as a friend. They knew each other, they had a great foundation to build a relationship off of. Adrien wasnât anyone to be scared of.
Thatâs what she was telling herself as she turned the corner and entered the room. Adrien was seated on the couch facing away from her, but he must have heard her enter since his head whirled around to look at her. When she saw how his face lit up when his eyes landed on her, saw the bouquet of tulips (her favorites!) that heâd brought her, she realized she was right, even as her heart jumped to her throat.
Adrien wasnât scary.
He was just very, very painfully cute.
...Marinette wasnât sure if this was any better.
--------------------
The walk to their destination was meandering and filled with light conversation. Questions about her latest designs, his photoshoots, classwork, everything to pass the time. Once she got into the groove of it, past her own nerves, it was almost like talking with an old friend. Which, she realized with a start, he was. Two years of friendship and now it was turning into something more. She couldnât be happier.
...At least, that was what she thought until they finally arrived. She glanced at Adrien in confusion.
â...An animal shelter?â
Adrien rubbed the back of his neck nervously. âI know itâs not the usual first date, but⌠theyâre having a special meet and greet with kittens today,â he cleared this throat and added, âamong other things.â He looked back at her bashfully. â...Is that okay?â
She clapped excitedly and hugged him. âI love it!â Her eyes flew open and she was gripped with panic for a moment. Was this too much too quickly? Was she invading his space? But those doubts melted away when he returned the hug.
âIâm glad,â he whispered. âNow come on! Weâve got baby kitties to pet!â
As he grabbed her hand and pulled her along, Marinette felt herself loosen up. Adrien spoke with the receptionist and was given directions to a room in the back. When they entered the room, they were immediately greeted by the sounds of over a dozen tiny kittens meowing at everything they could find. Including each other. The door opening attracted the attention of some of them, who immediately began trying to climb their way up the smooth waist-high wall blocking them from the only exit.
Marinette glanced over at Adrien, who almost looked on the verge of tears from happiness. She could understand the feeling as she stepped over the barrier and was immediately mobbed by kittens trying to climb their way up her dress. The kitten who had climbed the furthest found itself snatched up by Marinette and given kisses to the top of its head. It mewed in protest as she sat down.
After a few moments she noticed the one she was holding was the only one that was still near her. She looked up and immediately covered her mouth with her hand when she saw where they had all gone.
Just like her, Adrien had sat down and immediately began drowning in baby kitties. Almost all the kittens in the pen were drawn to him, clambering awkwardly over her date. A few were sitting in front of him, mewing as if to attract his attention. Others were making good use of his Agreste-brand jacket to get a good foothold as they climbed. Four sat all in a heap in his lap, purring contently as his hands briefly darted between them. One particularly intrepid kitten sat on top of his head and meowed in triumph⌠at least until Adrien picked him up and set him back on the ground.
Remembering what Tikki had said, she pulled out her phone and took a few pictures of the ridiculously adorable scene. Her giggling drew his attention and her breath caught when she saw just how happy he was. She was well acquainted with his model smile - it stared down at her everyday - but this was one that she had only seen drawn from him a few times before. She reflexively took another photo before setting down her phone.
His eyes trailed downward and his head tilted curiously when he saw what was in her lap.
There was amusement in his voice as he asked, âIs that the only black cat you like?â
She glanced down at the same time that the kitten looked up at her with big, green eyes. With her index finger she scratched it between the ears, coaxing a purr from the little guy.
âWell, at least this one doesnât tell cat puns all the time.â
Adrien smirked. âFurreal? But cat puns are clawesome!â
âSometimes, but there are other kinds of puns out there.â
âHmâŚâ Adrien tapped his chin. âSo youâre saying Chat Noir should expand his act.â The black kitten meowed loudly, making Adrien laugh. âNot you, kitten noir.â
Marinette giggled despite herself. The time passed by quickly after that and eventually Adrien emerged from the pile of kittens, stretching his legs as he did so. They still tried to cling onto him and Marinette had to check him to make sure no determined stragglers were still hitching a ride.
âAre you sure we canât play with the kittens some more?â
âWe can come back later if you really want,â Adrien replied as they reached another door. âI just thought youâd want to see whatâs in here.â
Curious, Marinette gently pushed open the door⌠only to see a glass maze filled with-
âHamsters?â Suspicion bloomed in her gut.
âYeah! I heard you wanted one when- umâŚâ
âAdrien⌠When what?â
âWhen we⌠have a family together?â
A pit of dread opened up in her gut. In a small voice she said, â...What? How did you-â
Adrien was rubbing the back of his neck nervously. âSo you know like two weeks ago when you left behind your sketchbook and Alya found it and gave it back to you?â
Her jaw dropped. âNoâŚâ
âI was the one who found it.â He wrung his hands in front of himself, unable to meet her eyes.
âDid you-â
âRead it? Yeah.â He looked as embarrassed as she felt and she buried her face in her hands. How was she ever going to look him in the eye again? âI didnât mean to! But it was already open and I immediately got dragged off to a photoshoot and the designs were so goodâŚâ He looked at her apologetically. âI couldnât help myself. Iâm sorry.â
âButâŚâ The word was said with such sly confidence that it made Marinette look up at him again. âFor what itâs worth, I think Marinette Agreste doesnât sound half as nice as Adrien Dupain-Cheng.â
#Miraculous Ladybug#Adrien Agreste#Marinette Dupain-Cheng#Adrienette#Plagg#Tikki#ml fanfiction#fluff#such fluff#ml sugar#my writing#Kitten Love#ml secret santa exchange#mlsecretsanta2019#anotherblog1234
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All I Wanted
So...I did a thing. @sapphicvalhallas maybe I wasnât as innocent as I claimed. Anyway, so Iâm gonna be honest, I just wrote this out because I got inspired by a few songs. Mainly Misguided Ghosts and All I Wanted by Paramore. Hence the name. But...yeah.
âDo you think heâll be happy?â I whispered, glancing up at Rowan as insecurity ate at my insides. She met me with a glowing smile as she stuffed the little booties in the gift bag with the paper.
âI know he will be. Having a miniature version of himself running around? Heâs going to be ecstatic.â
I smiled, feeling reassured as I finished tying the bow around the plastic stick and setting in the bag. I was about two months, or at least, thatâs what one of the doctors in the Project had said. Luckily, she still stuck with the doctor/patient confidentiality. The idea that the family was growing elated them, and I was curious if she had been more excited than I was. But that was what led us here, Rowan and I, away from her cabin in the woods with Jacob, and getting out of the ranch from Johnâs watchful eye.
If I was being honest, deep down I was terrified. So fucking terrified. The absolute joy the woman expressed, forced me to put a smile on my face, but I didnât feel it. I went home, vomited up all the anxieties, fears, and trauma that went along with news like this for someone like me. Not that I was alone. No, many women have had to deal with stuff like I had, and I reminded myself of that. But to me? That defining moment haunted me enough that even the bliss twisted my nightmares into reality. Something that was supposed to be uplifting, showed me just how much my heart still bled.
But this was a new beginning, the real fresh start of my life, unlike what had happened when I first moved here. The blotched arrest, the constant fightingâŚfalling in love with the enemy, and the ultimate betrayal. It was like I had free fallen into absolute chaos and it wasnât until I realized what made me happy, that I was able to breathe.
âWren?â
My eyes snapped back up to Rowanâs dark brown ones, a bit startled. âHmm?â
Rowan frowned, leaning forward to squeeze my hand. âHey, are you doing alright?â
âIâm fine! I was just deep in thought. Did you say something?â
She opened herself, but there was a sharp knock on the door, drawing both of our attention. Without waiting to be called in, Jane burst through the door. I smiled at the presence of my favorite redhead, something smart on the tip of my tongue, but I stop as her frantic eyes meet mine.
âSister Wren, we need to leave. Now.â
Rowan glanced at me as my frown deepened. âWhatâs wrong? What happened?â
She swallowed, closing her eyes briefly. âThe ranch. It was attacked. The alarm had been triggered.â
âWhen?â Rowan demanded. I couldnât move, let alone speak, as I went cold.
âAbout 20-30 minutes agoââ
âThat long?!â I shriek, shooting up. âHow the hell am I just now hearing about this?â I stormed out of the room, heading outside with both women on my heel.
âI just found outââ
I yanked open the driver side door and climbed in. Jane looked at me in shock, but I didnât care. I didnât need my Chosen driving me around, I only relented sometimes for Johnâs sake. I didnât trust Jane to throw caution to the wind. I glared at her through the window. âGet in the fucking car.â
She pursed her lips before climbing into the passenger side, Rowan climbing in the back. I didnât think about seatbelts, I had barely given Rowan enough time to close the door. Gravel flies as I slaw on the gas, Jane looking at me like a crazed woman, and in this moment, I was.
âJohn is still at the bunker, right? Has he been informed?â I asked. âFuck, Randy is at the house. Was he the one that called? I hope heâs okay.â Jane hesitated, not saying a word. I looked at her, but the second our eyes met, she looked away. âIs he at the bunker, Jane?â I breathed out, panic rising in my chest from her silence.
âWrenââ
âDamn it, Jane, where the hell is my husband?â I snapped. âHe went to the bunker like he had planned, right? He told me this morning that thatâs whatââ
âHe never left.â She whispered, but it was as if she screamed it straight in my ear, a ring beginning to sound. âHe stayed home, he wanted to make sure he was home so he would have time to surprise you with a date night. HeâŚhe insisted that he wouldnât beat you home from the bunker.â
The sound that escapes my throat is strangled as I grip the steering wheel tighter, my foot pressing down a little more. Rowan clutches my shoulder. âJohn is surrounded by Chosen all the time, there are guards stationed at your home 24/7, Wren. Iâm sure heâs fine.â
I tried the best I could, but I began to panic, on the verge of hyperventilating as my mind ran wild with the possibilities. Finally, I turned on our drive with Jane insisting I slowed down. I paid her no mind as I left a trail of dust behind us. My heart sank as we passed the YES sign, bullet holes and blood stains tainting the white paint. Jane squeezed the door handle as we came around the corner, slamming on the brakes and coming to a skid.
Jumping out, the breath escaped from my lungs completely. Blood, bodies, and chaos covered the lawn of my very home. I staggered, my hand over my mouth as I saw faces of my own loyal followers and people I had once helped, lifeless. A few more of our people milled around, trying to do what they could to clean up the devastation, but their faces were grim, heartbroken and mournful for the family members they had lost. I looked crazed as some newer members spoke to our Chosen, shaken and a bit hysterical, as they eyed me.
âIs that--â
âThe Judge, his wife. You know Sister Wren, donât you?â
âDoes she know?â
There words barely register, and I rushed to the house, not caring for a second if Rowan and Jane were with me. The hairs on the back of my neck had stood on end as I ran. Randy was with John, John was safe. I repeated it tom myself over and over as I made it through the threshold. My legs push harder to get me up the stairs faster, and I stumble to a stop as I come to the top.
The door is barely open, just ajar enough for me to see the sunlight coming through. My heart hammers against my chest as I take a step forward. Normally, he would either keep it shut or decide to keep it open wide. I shouldnât be this scared of a door, but Iâm shaking. Suddenly Iâm a heroine in one of those horror movies I force John to watch. Weâll both laugh at my comparison to Laurie from Halloween, and thatâs the only comfort I can cling to in this moment.
âJohn?â I called, taking another step. âBaby, are you okay?â Nothing, but silence. My breath quickens even more. âThis isnât funny, you stubborn ass. Just please tell me youâre okay.â
I picked up the pace when I got no reply, a panicked sob choking me. âPlease be okay. For the love of God, baby, be okay.â I shove the door open, looking and seeing nothing at first. But then I take it in, the messy desk, papers scattered, his laptop on the floor, and thatâs when I finally find him.
Iâm on my knees in seconds, my hands on his chest, as the tears pour. His eyes are closed, a tint to his cool skin that doesnât settle well with me. Heâs blue. Heâs too fucking blue. âBaby, Iâm here. I got you.â I cry harder when he doesnât move. I barely notice the blood soaking through my jeans. Iâm too busy shaking him. âJohn, wake up, Iâm here. Itâs okay.â I pull at his hand to place it against my face, but its cold and it wonât stay. My eyes squeeze shut as a painful wail finally escapes, all my feelings refusing to be bottled any longer.
I grab him, pulling him on my lap as I cradle his head, my lips pressed against his forehead as I cry. I rock back and forth, because I donât know what else to do. The movement disturbed something in his other hand, drawing my attention. The frame was broken and the glass shattered, but our wedding picture was still in decent condition. My rocking increases as I sob harder. âNo. No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no!â
I squeeze him harder, willing him to open his eyes. To cough, and scoff, only to make a stupid remark that would only make me smack him on the arm. To snap at me to stop because Iâm making him dizzy. But none of that comes and I hear a distant shrieking as my hand fists his hair, placing my forehead awkwardly against his. I hadnât had the chance to tell him, he would never know that I was carrying our child. And I was alone. I would have to do this all alone, without my partner, my anchor. It was crushing, I could barely breathe. As the soreness in my throat builds, I realize that I had been the one shrieking. âYou promised! You swore to me that you would never leave me!â
Strong arms wrapped around me, pulling me back, but I only held on to my husband tighter. I couldnât, wouldnât, let go. But the person was stronger. And I turned as they ripped me away and swung blindly. Jacob dodged it with ease as I tried to pull away, only to slam my fists against his chest. He pulled me forward, engulfing me in a hug as I collapsed against him. âHeâs gone, Jacob. Heâs gone.â
âI know.â Jacob replied, his voice gruff. He didnât say anything else, didnât offer condolences, just stood there as I fell apart. I pulled away, glancing to see Rowan and Joseph there in the doorway, both silently crying. âGet her out of here, Ro.â
Rowan nodded, gently pulling on my arm. I followed, allowing her to pull me along. I was too numb, too out of it to protest. This wasnât real. This didnât feel real. I wanted nothing more than to just go back to this morning, laying in bed with him laying on top of me and snoring lightly. I would give anything to go back to two nights ago, to relive the fight we had. The way that he had slipped down the stairs to carry me up from the stairs because I was too stubborn to sleep in our room. I wanted his arms around me.
âIâll get you some tea.â Rowan whispered as she helped me to couch. I say nothing in response, and she leaves.
I had been sitting there what felt like hours, a mug full of cold tea in my hands. I had only been sipping it here and there. They had already carried him out, plans on what to do next being thrown around. I couldnât believe it, even as I sat covered in his blood. The sound of someone clearing their throat drew my attention to see Joseph standing next to the now lit fireplace. I couldnât remember when that had happened.
âMay I join you?â he asked softly. I just nodded aboundingly in response, still struggling with finding words. So, itâs silent for a while, until he decides to break the silence. âIâm sorry for your loss, Wren. This is hard on all of us.â
I sniffed, glancing down at my cup. âI wasnât expecting this. I didnât think for a second that they would attack here, becauseâŚâ
âBecause of you?â
I looked at him, his soft eyes meeting mine. âI still have some friendsâŚthey didnât exactly understand, but they love me. I thought that they wouldnât attack either of us because of me. It was so stupid, because I lived in my own world where I believed that we were untouchable because I was an ally at one point. But I was wrong. I was so wrong. And John paid the price for my pride.â My voice broke as my shoulders sagged.
âThat wasnât pride, Wren. You wanted, and wished, for a happy future for the both of you. There is nothing wrong with that.â
âI canât do this without him, Joseph. I just canât.â I sobbed.
He placed his hand on my shoulder. âIt will hurt for a long time, I know. But you canâ"
âIâm pregnantâŚIâm pregnant and Johnâs dead, Joseph. Heâs gone, and I donât know what Iâm going to do.â
Joseph hesitated, a bit shocked at the reveal, but brushed it off. âHe left you everything, Wren. You and the child are well taken care of. Itâs in his willââ
âI donât give a fuck about his will or his money!â I shrieked, my eyes squeezed shut as a broken sob wracked my body. I want my husband!â I began to shake, my breath quick. âWho am I without him? What am I if I donât have him? How the hell am I supposed to do this without my other half? I canât do this alone!â
âYou are not alone.â He replied softly with passion. âI know youâre not religious, and you donât believe in what I preach. But you hold a pivotal role in our community, an example of strong faith and leadership that people follow. This community is your family, Wren. We are your family.â Joseph whispered, his voice softly giving way to that Georgia drawl he could sometimes hide.
âFalse faith? Iâm pretty sure thatâs a sin, Joseph.â I sound hollow, a shell of myself as the words tumble out. Words that was meant to be something like a joke coming across robotically and empty. All I could do was stare at my blood covered hands numbly.
âYou had faith in John.â His name cuts deeply and its enough for my eyes to meet Josephâs. Despite the fact that they were technically the same color, they were so different than Johnâs. A serene calm vs the playful mischief that my husband always portrayed. âThe trust you had in him, the love you had for him, created a loyalty that spread and touched those he was loyal to, bringing you into a family that welcomed you with open arms, that still accepts and loves you. Your faith in him was enough for that. And heâŚhe loved you more than he loved himself.â My face contorted, fresh tears following the trails of old ones as the pain throbbed. âThat was something John struggled with every day. He would take, because he loved himself more than he loved others. And you saw that, didnât you? The night you first met him.â
âThe Cleansing.â I replied lowly and Joseph gave a single nod.
âThatâs right. And it was your fear of him not being able to love you in return, not as you did him, that drove you two apart before. My brother John was loved by few and feared by many. He wasnât always like that. When we were young, he was full of joy, easily preyed upon. He wanted to watch the world burn. And after he met you, after this started, John would have done it all for you if he had to. Because he finally understood what I meant. He loved you more than he loved anything.â
âExcept you.â
Joseph hummed, closing his eyes momentarily. âDo you have any siblings, Wren?â
I knew he already knew the answer, but I appreciated that he was giving me the courtesy and respect to offer me the chance to tell him myself. âNo.â
âWell, when you have siblings, thereâs thisâŚfeeling. This bond that is interwoven in your very nature to protect and love them. Jacob knows that better than all of us. But it isnât a bond or a love you choose.â Joseph placed his hand on my shoulder and squeezed. âYou are the bond, the love, he had chosen. Youâre what kept him in the light. At the end, it wasnât Edenâs Gate that gave him the redemption he longed forâŚit was you.â
My face contorted as my heart twisted painfully. âHe didnât always do good, but he loved me. He loved this family and his people. He learned to love, Joseph. And for this to happen to himâŚ?â
âWe canât explain the bad that happens. Only fight it with love and faith.â
I scoff lightly, but Joseph doesnât say anything. âHow did it happen?â I whispered. âNobody has told me.â
Joseph shifted, removing his hand as he looked down at his book. âJacob believes it was a sniper. Someone came in, and John fought, but it was a sniper thatâŚâ
I swallowed, clenching my teeth as I glared tearfully at the flames. âGrace.â I hissed. He glanced back at me as I dug my nails into the meat of my thigh.
âWhat do you plan to do?â
I looked at him, the fire in my eyes burning as my mouth twisted in a sneer. âWhat Iâm meant to do. Iâm the Judge, Joseph. So thatâs what I will do. I will Judge their actions accordingly. All their sins, their transgressions.â
âAnd then?â
âAnd then I will release every once of Wrath that I have left for what theyâve taken from me.â My voice is icy and dark, but I donât care. âThey will not be given forgiveness. They arenât worthy of it. And theyâre going to realize just what Johnâs death has cost them. And I will show no amount of mercy.â
#deputy wren blake#the judge#john seed#rowan palmer#jane williams#jacob seed#joseph seed#Far Cry 5#far cry oc#far cry fic#my writing
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Leaving you
A/N: This is bullshit... I really should stop writing forever... But you decide so here we go... sorry for any kinds of mistakes...
Summary: Harryâs public life becomes to much for Y/N
All my life I had been the one whoâs heart got broken every damn time, but never had I imagined that one day I would be the one to break someone elseâs heart. Especially if that person didnât do anything severe.
Especially if that person was Harry Styles; the kindest, loveliest and the most amazing person Iâve ever met and had been with.
When I chose to date him, but I hadnât expected to feel miserable as I was doing now.
Iâve really thought I was capable of enduring all the hardships that our relation and Harryâs public life brought along, however, I came to conclusion that I had been terribly mistaken and had totally underestimated myself. The constant hate plus cyberbullying, the paparazzi being hot on my heels for 24/7 straight and thousands of cheating rumors circling around on tabloids about my boyfriend apparently meeting another hot super model behind my back- all of these incidents just overweighed my mental capacity and added even more fuel to the fire, namely; my fucked up insecurities. This heavy burden was more than I could ever handle or carry on my shoulders.
Unfortunately, I had to choose. It was either my mental health, which was far more important to me than anything else at the moment because I was almost at the verge of going insane, or my relationship with Harry that would keep me unhappy. Itâs not that I didnât love him; Iâve given my heart to him bits by bits, sacrificing everything that I had left only to receive his love and to hold his heart in my hands. Now, I realized how badly the consequences influenced me.
It had never occurred to me that I would suffer so severely under our relationship.
I had been always someone with major insecurities and after starting to date Harry, they didnât get any better. I thought perhaps he could help me to defeat them so I could change into the strong young woman that I had dreamed of being. A young woman who loved herself the way she was. I was still far away from that destination.
Additionally, to my fucked up self, I started to develop paranoia thanks to damn paparazzi. There had been no moment in which I could step out of my house-somebody found where I lived unfortunately- without being bombarded with thousands of questions. I wasnât even the famous one, so why following me around?
Also, the rumors about Harry added some trust issues and who would ever want a girlfriend who thought you would cheat on her whenever you went out with your female friends? Harry didnât deserve such a girlfriend like me.
I tried to explain my problem, hoping he would comprehend the issue and why I had chosen to break up.
But Harry didnât take it positively at all.
We were standing in the middle of my living room, his tall frame hovering over mine, making me feel small.
âYouâre leaving me? Why?â
I articulate with the correct words so he wouldnât be offended at the end. It wasnât his fault anyway. âEverything is getting too much recently, Harry. I donât think I can handle it. Iâm not feeling well at all.â
âIf thatâs so we can get you professional help, how about that? I can arrange a meeting with the best therapist in London?â He tried to compromise. I could see panic being reflected in his green orbs. The fear of losing me.
âI donât think it will help. Harry, itâs not that what I want.â
He looked at me confused.
âWhat is it then?â
I sighed, âI need a break from your public life. I know weâve been together for a long while, but I still havenât got used to it and Iâm sorry that it took me so long to tell you. I thought could get accustomed to everything, but I didnât. I want my private life back. I want to live in peace.â
âIâm sorry you feel that way, love. Maybe we could leave until you feel better then?â
âMental health conditions do not change overnight, Harry.â
âWhat do you want me to do, then?â
âNothing,â I said, although it was quite obvious what I intended with this conversation.
âYouâre very eager to get rid of me, arenât ya?â His voice, which once held a soft undertone whenever he would speak, sounded so poisonous and unfamiliar in a sudden, I couldnât recognize it at all. For a moment, it felt like as if a stranger that Iâve never met or heard before was talking to me and not my loving boyfriend. When I dared to look into his eyes with the last ounce of courage I had, a shudder went through my body from head to toe because I could clearly see the anger fuming behind his usually gentle green orbs. They were emitting complete darkness, making me feel little under his piercing gaze. Not being able to withstand the eye contact any longer, my glance fell down to his hands which he had so tightly fisted into two balls, I practically saw his knuckles turning very white. He flared his nostrils. His chest heaved strongly with every intake of breath. I knew he tried to stay calm, but despite his attempts, he was going to explode soon and if that happened, oh lord, you had to run as far as you could and search for a hiding place.
Harry was unrecognizable when he was mad. Dangerous even. But he would never raise his hand against me. At least thatâs what I was hoping.
âYou canât wait to leave me.â
I shook my head unbelievingly, gaping at him. Although I was freaking scared, I still tried to hold my ground. âThatâs not true, Harry. You know that. Stop twisting my words so you have a reason to be angered.â
He snorted. âI have a fucking reason to be mad. Youâre leaving me and act like as if it wasnât a big deal to you. So, excuse me miss if Iâm getting upset at you for making me feel unworthy to your standards.â
âStandards? What in godâs name are you talking about?! I gave you a fucking valid reason why I chose to end things with you and all you gathered from what Iâve said is this? I never claimed you were being unworthy, I just stated that I donât think I can keep up with your life anymore. It is affecting my mental health, donât you get it? I canât eat, I canât sleep, and I have no privacy, for fucks sake. There is no day in which Iâm not followed around by rude people showing their cameras into my face because they need some new headlines to gossip about. The majority of your fandom hates me, and I canât even walk on the streets without fearing of being attacked. People call me ugly, they call me fat and unfitting for you. So, for the love of god, show some understanding! Stop making everything about you!â Another wave of tears was brimming my eyes. I was so tired of crying.
I really hoped I had spoken some sense into his stubborn mind, but unfortunately my speech had achieved the exact opposite reaction than I was expecting. Instead, things started to escalate.
âAbout me?!â
A loud bang echoed through the entire room. My wall had a dent.
âIâve told you before!â Harry yelled. I was sure the entire building was able to hear him by now. His outburst made me flinch and back away a few steps in fright.
âIâve told you exactly what youâd get yourself into if you chose to be with me and do you want me to remind you of what you answered back then?! You said you could handle it! It was you who said that as long as we have each other, our love would overcome everything! You fucking promised me my life was not a bother to you, you assured me that you wouldnât run away like the ones Iâve dated before you because there was no way that you were like them. You promised to stay!! Look at you now; you prove that you���re no different than anybody else I was with!â
He was right. He was completely in the right and I couldnât blame him for that.
âI knowâŚâ I whispered underneath my breath.
Harry groaned and went back and forth, his fingers grasping his chocolate curls so tightly, I feared he was going to rip them off his skull. Anguish was written all across his face.
âFuck!â he screamed. The next time I looked at him, he was on the ground.
âLove, please,â he begged on his knees, his glossy eyes staring into my soul, âIâm ready to give up anything for you if you stay. Ask me anything you want, and youâll have it, I promise. Youâre the reason why life is getting easier for me every day. You give me a little bit of normality at times where I feel so out of place, as if I didnât belong to anywhere in this world. Iâm so sick of people seeing me as the Harry Styles. Iâm sick of people putting me up on a pedestal or using me. I hate hiding a part of me in fear that I might get criticized. You, however, you see the real me. You donât judge me but embrace who I am. You accept me. Please, I need you or I will lose myself. Youâre my guardian angel that I need to keep.â
He slung his arms around my legs, hugging them so tightly that I couldnât move from my spot. His desperate cries rang through my ear drums and found their way down to my heart, cutting it into two halves. My lungs burned from the lack of air. I just noticed now that I had stopped breathing. I was incredibly conflicted. I knew leaving him would make things less complicated for me than staying.
As selfish as it sounded and no matter how much I loved him, I had to improve my mental condition and focus on myself before I invested anything into our relationship again. My well-being was what mattered the most. Call me a fucking bitch for breaking Harryâs heart but believe me when I tell you that dumping him was the hardest challenge Iâve ever been through.
âHarryâŚâ I sighed, trying to pry off his arms from my legs, âyou know I canât. Iâm wasnât made for this public life.â
I gazed down at him. Shoulders hanging low, his head pointing to the ground and his legs crossed, he sat there in a deafening silence. The tension between us made me a dizzy a lot. I took this short moment of quietness to gather my thoughts and to plan the next steps in my head.
And then, Harryâs voice reverberated through the room.
âIf I leave through that door, this is it,â he said without any emotion behind his words. His dull and tired eyes met mine. Raising his arm, he pointed at the front door. âIf I leave through that door, I wonât come back, and you will never see me again. Iâll cut you out of my heart. So, choose wisely, Y/N because there are no second chances.â
I tried to swallow the big fat lump that had developed in my throat, blinking away the tears in my eyes. My voice wavered as I answered, âMaybe thatâs the best for us.â I avoided looking at him in the eyes, but I knew I had destroyed the last remains of hope that was left in them.
Why did my heart feel so heavy? It was better for him if he dated someone who was in his league, wasnât it? Someone who didnât mind changing their private life for a public one. Someone who was stronger than me.
Harry choked out a few heavy sobs before he raised up from his spot and faced me. The image of this broken man in front of me would haunt me forever.
We shared no words, no physical affection, no âI love youâs, nor did we bid each other farewell. We were just staring at each other. Maybe this was the perfect final opportunity to memorize every single detail of him. To engrave how he looked like up close. To imprint the shape of his lips, the size of his nose, his dimple and the twinkle of his beautiful green irises. However, he gave me no time to do such because, before I could even blink, he was already headed to the front door.
He turned to me for the very last time. His hand searched for something in his pocket, and suddenly something landed in front of my feet with a loud thud.
My eyes widened as I caught a glimpse of the foreign object. The world around me was spinning, and it gave me the terrible urge to throw up. It couldnât be! With trembly fingers, I picked up the dark velvet box.
âYou know, when I came here, I really thought I would leave this apartment with a smile on my face, knowing that youâd become my future wife,â Harry commented, the bitter tone of his voice couldnât be overheard. âInstead, Iâm leaving with a broken heart and shattered hopes. Congratulations, you have what you wanted.â
The door fell shut and he was gone.
I was frozen like a statue, couldnât do anything but to stare at the velvet box in my hand. My insides were churning as I opened the lid and discovered a gorgeous diamond ring hiding underneath that took my breath away. It sparkled wonderfully in the light.
I saw the effort behind it, knowing exactly that Harry had trudged from one jewelerâs shop to the next because he was a very picky person who just wanted to find the perfect ring he could propose with. I saw the disappointment attached on his face every time when he found none but also excitement when he finally did. I saw the large smile decorating his lips when he admired the ring and when he said, âThatâs the one.â
Placing the ring in the middle of my palm, I could feel how it burned and pierced through my skin. I couldnât even look at it properly, not only because my vision was completely blurred by my tears, no, also because the ring was mocking me. I had been so determined to end my relationship with the man I couldâve called mine for the rest of my life, but now I was ashamed. Guilt swarmed through my body. My heart was under fire, paining, aching, bleeding. I landed on my knees and cried and cried and cried.
I could only hope that my decision was worth crushing the unique heart that I once held in between my hands.
 Harry
The small metal object felt incredibly heavy in my hand. My head couldnât really process that I was going to do what I had planned the moment I had exited her apartment. Y/Nâs and Iâs breakup had left severe injuries that hurt and tore me apart. All this time I had strongly believed she was the one. I was so sure that she was different, that she would stay by my side regardless of who I was. I had told her the obstacles our relationship had to deal with, but she just waved it off, telling me she would fight against those if she had to. She had lied. I felt so betrayed.
I had trust issues, anyway, resulting from former unsuccessful relationships. So, when I had met Y/N, it took me a long while to regain my trust towards love for fear of being let down again. She broke my walls that should protect me from pain and now I had nothing to keep me safe anymore.
I shook my head.
Previously, I had emptied a box full of memories into my fireplace. Now, I was looking at them and letting the past flash before my eyes. Every happy memory that we both had created together would not be existing anymore. I took a photo in between my thumb and pointer finger. When I saw her smiling face pictured on it while I was kissing her cheek, I broke. Why was she doing this to me? Why was she hurting me so much? Have I ever meant as much to her as she did to me?
I threw the photo back into the fireplace and ignited the lighter. I hesitated for a moment. Was I really going to destroy valuable memories?
A snort escaped my lips. She threw our relationship away as if it was a piece of garbage so why did I care if I erased everything out of my life that dealt with her? I had been serious when I told her I was going to cut her out of my life.
Suddenly, the fireplace lit up and filled my living room with soothing warmth. I watched as the flames swallowed the last remains of Y/Nâs and Iâs relationship. Another tear slips down my cheek as I let my memories or anything that reminded me of her burn down into a pile of ashes along with my heart.
#harry styles imagine#harry styles imagines#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fic#harry styles writing#harry styles one shot#harry styles fluff#harry styles blurb#harry styles prompt#harry styles prompts#harry styles angst#harry styles au#harry styles x reader#harry styles x you#one direction imagine
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Playing Dead - chapter 5
in which will and hannibal finally have a conversation
chapter 1: tumblr / ao3
chapter 2: tumblr / ao3
chapter 3: tumblr / ao3
chapter 4: tumblr / ao3
read chapter 5 of Playing Dead below or on ao3!
Will left Beverly and Miriam at the cafĂŠ, with instructions to meet him the following day at a nearby park. On the walk back to the house, he turned over in his mind the options he now had laid out before him. He could do just as he said he would, kill Hannibal and wipe him from memory and then take off somewhere new. It was an appealing thought, to be cut loose and on the road again; so much of his life he had spent solitary and transitory, and he liked it that way.
He could take Hannibal and disappear into the night, lead Beverly and Miriam on a wild chase across the continent. Maybe even take a foray into Asia, though it would be far more difficult for him to blend in. But what was life without a little danger? It had been too long since heâd had a real thrill. Moving Hannibal in his current state would be difficult, though. Would his body even hold together through the upheaval of a cross-continental race into oblivion?
Or he could attempt the change again tonight, one last time. There was a good chance that it would fail again, just as it had failed so many countless times already. It was the jagged friction between them, the months of bickering and sullen silences that made up the roadblock on their path to the future; Willâs blood could flow freely into Hannibalâs body, but the spark, the vital essence that would transform Hannibal from human to vampire, was not getting through.
Will could snap his fingers and make it all go away if he wanted to; it was a perk of his vampire nature that he could choose what bothered him and what didnât, fine-tune his feelings to be perfectly in line with whatever a given situation required, and to do so wouldnât bother Will in the slightest. It was an act as simple as choosing whether to sit or to stand, and the resultant feelings would be no less authentic for it. Every emotion would be deep and true, from the word go right up until the moment he decided to stop.
But Will was stubborn, sometimes to a fault. He didnât want to give it up so easy. They would go into it as equals or not at all, and Hannibal had to understand that Will was not a toy to be played with or thrown out of the pram as the whim took him.
Will arrived back at the house with no real decision made, and as he crossed the threshold from the hallway to the sitting room he could see Hannibal, entrenched on the sofa in his ostentatious silk robe and gearing up to greet Will with what was no doubt some terribly clever and cutting remark.
Will held up a weary hand, and to his faint disbelief Hannibal actually paused. âNo. Not tonight, Hannibal. No more of your barbs. Iâm sick to death of it all. We have more important things to think about right now. Weâve been found.â
âI see. Beverly and Miriam, I assume?â
âYes. They cornered me at the market.â
âAnd I suppose now youâre going whisk me off into the night again, leaving them another flimsy murder scene to discover? Your last one evidently didnât work out so well, if theyâve managed to find us.â
Will groaned and rubbed his hands over his face. âThis is why I donât want to fucking turn you, Hannibal. Everything is a problem for you these days. Youâre in the middle of the longest, shittiest tantrum Iâve ever seen. A vampireâs temperament is formed largely by the mood they were in when they were turned, and I do not want to turn you when youâre like this and then be saddled with your eternal bad mood.â
For a few seconds, Hannibal was perfectly still, his face blank while he tried and failed to select the appropriate emotion. When he did speak, it was careful to the point of hesitation. âI didnât realise you were having second thoughts about this.â
âIâm not having second thoughts,â Will sighed. âI just⌠You make it hard. As much as Iâve been able, Iâve always lived my life alone, and Iâve taken great pains to keep it that way. Right now youâre really making me regret ever trying to integrate into society. Itâs difficult, okay? Turning a human is difficult. If it wasnât, there would be a hell of a lot more vampires running around. Itâs not just your body that needs to accept the change, Hannibal. You need to be open to accepting it and I need to be open to giving it. If weâre out of sync then itâs not going to take, no matter how many times we try. Itâs mental as much as it is physical, and lately Iâve been struggling to remember why I liked you so much.â Will sat down heavily next to Hannibal and put his head in his hands, and then laughed bitterly. âWe shouldâve tried when you sucked my dick. It wouldâve worked then, I guarantee.â
âThis is the first time youâve acknowledged that encounter.â
âAnd thatâs the first time youâve acknowledged it.â
âI wouldâve done more, if youâd asked it of me. I expected⌠hoped⌠that you would,â Hannibal said slowly, a not insubstantial amount of old hurt underlining his words. âBut it seemed to mean little to you in the grand scheme of things.â
âIt was a mistake. I hadnât planned it. It shouldnât have happened.â
âThen why did it?â
âI donât know. I wanted it.â
âHave you wanted it since?â
Will looked sidelong at Hannibal, a beat of silence before he responded. âNot enough to do anything about it.â
âBut you have wanted it.â
âPlease stop poking at me and just say whatever it is you have to say.â
âYouâre falling into old patterns, pointlessly rebuilding walls between us that had already been torn down. It hurts us both, and makes us hurt each other in turn.â
âMaybe I like to hurt.â
âThen there are more mutually satisfying ways to hurt than this. Will, you said that for the change to take hold, you have to be open to giving it. Youâre sealing yourself back inside your forts. Come down from your high tower and understand that opening yourself fully to me is not the weakness that it would be with any other human. I am not one of them. I came into this life only so that you could take me beyond it. Perhaps waiting for the change has made me sour in these past months, but Iâll not apologise for it. All this time I have been waiting for you, Will. I would not have waited for any other.â
And there it was, the tiny admission that was Hannibalâs equivalent of rolling over and exposing his underbelly. It was the Hannibal that Will hadnât seen in months, the Hannibal who sat across from him in therapy, at dinner, late at night in front of the fireplace; the golden spiderweb cracks in the porcelain exterior, tiny glimpses of the tender flesh beneath. Will was Hannibalâs one weakness, and Hannibal had always wielded it as a weapon. His soft parts were quicksand, ready to swallow Will up at the first tentative touch.
âYou make me weak,â Will said, though there was no anger or resentment in his words.
âWe make each other weak,â Hannibal countered, âand drive each other to reckless and cruel actions. But together we are still stronger than any who could hope to stand against us.â
âYou would paint the world red, wouldnât you? Leave cities awash in blood.â
âOnly for you,â Hannibal said. And then, for the second time that evening, he was on the verge of hesitation when he asked: âDo you experience love?â
Will smiled. Hannibal might as well have torn his own heart out and laid it in Willâs lap. âI did when I was human. Or at least, I experienced something that felt like it. But the things I feel as a vampire donât really map neatly to the human range of emotion. Love is part of a feeling that I can experience, but itâs not a whole feeling by itself.â Will shifted in his seat to look at Hannibal fully, at the proud, aristocratic line of his nose and the pillow of his lips. He looked more like a vampire than Will ever had. âWhy do you ask?â
âA little apprehension, I suppose.â
âWorried that youâll fall madly in love with me after the change?â Will asked, half-joking.
âTo the point of foolishness, yes. It is a concern. Youâre already⌠important to me, Will. More than I can adequately convey. I wouldnât have let you anger me so if I didnât care about you. But Iâve no wish to be a slave.â
âOh.â
âIâve never experienced emotion as others do. I never wanted to. But when I knew you in Baltimore you were nothing but emotion, a restless sea of churning feelings that you couldnât, or wouldnât, control. You had a panic attack in the foyer of my house. I donât want to become a vampire only to discover that every emotion is a consuming tidal wave. I find the idea of being overwhelmed like that to be repulsive. If thatâs what life is like for you, I would rather remain human.â
âI wasnât sure if you remembered the panic attack thing,â Will said. âThose were extreme circumstances. Iâd been playing at being human for decades, and Iâd let human weakness creep in. When⌠when I donât fight what I am, all emotions are optional. I can view and dissect them from the outside, choose what to feel and exactly how much I want to feel it. Nothing is overwhelming. Everything is possible.â Will placed a cool hand against Hannibalâs chest, and felt the weak thud of his heart. In that moment, he was decided: Hannibal would die for the final time tonight. Will would bite over his heart, sink his teeth into the fluttering muscle and drink deep. And if their stars aligned and their blood was true, he would arise the next day burning brighter than the sun. âYou donât need to be concerned, Hannibal. Youâve never really been human. You can choose to love me or not.â
âJust as you have chosen?â
Will tilted his head and parted his lips, and let his fangs slide out on a purposeful exhale. âYes,â he said, all teeth and covetous eyes.
âI fear my choice is already made,â Hannibal said, and he sounded just like he had miles away and months ago, patching up a savage bite mark on his arm, staring at Willâs reflection in his bathroom mirror and promising never to stop him.
âI know youâre just telling me what I want to hear,â Will murmured, mouth suddenly very close to Hannibalâs ear, âbut itâs working. Maybe thereâs truth behind it. Maybe there isnât. I donât care either way. Youâre sly, and tricky. I like that about you. Base anger and pettiness was never very becoming of you.â
âWhat else do you like about me, Will?â
âI like your teeth. Fangs would look beautiful in your mouth. I like the way you walk. Your penchant for manipulation. The way you manoeuvred me back in Baltimore, serving me that fucking human steak, god⌠I donât think it was even a truly conscious decision on your part. You just couldnât help it. You slide people into these situations even when you have no reason to. Youâre a snake.â
âWould that make you Eve?â
Will ran his lips over the fine skin of Hannibalâs neck, tracing the pattern of veins and the dip of muscle. âIt was hardly Eden I was in, but you were my passage out into something new. Fuck, you smell so good. Take this off.â Will pulled at Hannibalâs sleeve, dragging it down to expose his shoulder and chest. His other hand still lay against Hannibalâs chest, and he began to move his fingers against Hannibalâs impossibly warm skin, desirous and possessive.
âKiss me,â Hannibal said, and Will was on his mouth almost before the words had left his lips. âBite me,â Hannibal said, and Will pulled Hannibalâs head back and sank his teeth into Hannibalâs shoulder. âFuck me,â Hannibal said, and Will moaned into Hannibalâs skin.
Will gathered up Hannibalâs trailing robe and slung his arm under his knees. âPut your arms around my neck.â
Hannibal did as requested, and Will picked him up as though he weighed nothing at all. âIâm not fucking you on that damn couch. Iâve half a mind to burn the thing. I donât ever want to see you sitting on it again,â Will said between kisses, the heat of Hannibalâs mouth too intoxicating to resist.
They made it to the bedroom, and Will threw Hannibal down on the bed with no great care for how he landed. He stripped quickly and inelegantly, and was back sprawling over Hannibal within seconds. He licked at the bite wound on Hannibalâs shoulder, a few sluggish drops of blood still leaking out, and then they were kissing again, Hannibal breathless and overheated.
Will was hard, harder than heâd been when Hannibal had sunk to his knees in Baltimore; harder than heâd been two hundred years ago in the middle of an orgy that still made him colour a little to think of it; harder than heâd been as a green boy in his first ever tumble in a haystack, feeling as though his whole body might explode.
Hannibal was half-hard at best. He doubted greatly his ability to maintain an erection, weak as he was after so many months of being drained of all his blood, and though Will kissed him thoroughly and rubbed his hard body luxuriously against him, Hannibalâs doubts proved correct.
âIt doesnât matter,â Will said, already working his way down Hannibalâs body. âIt means now I can do this.â He took Hannibalâs soft cock into his mouth, dragging it delicately between his fangs; if Hannibal had been fully hard, his cock wouldâve been too thick to safely fit and Willâs teeth wouldâve torn it to shreds. Will laved his tongue over the pliable flesh, wrapping the lushness of his lips around the faintly swollen head and then pulling back to open his mouth wantonly and let the dangerous points of his teeth peek out.
âI would let you,â Hannibal breathed, staring at Willâs teeth where they hovered over his tender flesh. âI would let you do anything.â
Will smiled savagely, and licked a long stripe up the length of Hannibalâs cock. âAsk me when youâre changed.â
Will sat up then, and pushed up Hannibalâs legs from where they were splayed about his hips. He gave his own cock a few long strokes, then rubbed the head against Hannibalâs body, smearing pre-come between his cheeks. âDo you like it to hurt?â Will asked, already breaching gently with a finger.
âSpit on me once. That will suffice.â
âIn all my years I donât think Iâve ever heard anything so filthy,â Will said, and then pushed Hannibalâs legs back further.
âIâm, ah, Iâm sure you ha--â Hannibalâs words were cut short as Will let a long trail of saliva fall from his lips and land hot on Hannibalâs hole.
âOh, I have heard plenty worse,â Will mused, pressing the head of his cock into Hannibalâs body and pushing in excruciatingly slow, âbut, fuck, itâs your mouth that makes it sound so, soâŚâ
Will fell forward onto his elbows and rolled his hips, and for the next few minutes words were put aside in favour of the fevered clutch of their hands, the crush of their lips, the push and pull of their bodies in tandem.
Will bent his head and bit gently into the flesh of Hannibalâs chest, directly over his heart. âWhat does that feel like?â he asked, his voice little more than a husky murmur.
âLike I want to die.â
âGood. Hold onto that.â Will sank his teeth further into the heaving muscle, sucking and licking at the blood that overflowed from the wound. Hannibal twined his fingers into Willâs hair, sighing and moaning at every swipe of his tongue and thrust of his hips. Truly, Hannibal couldnât think of anything so transcendent, so purely blissful as this. He had thought that being hauled over his butcher block and drained like a sacrifice at the altar of Willâs godhood was the peak of ecstasy, but the memory of that first draining now faded into nothing. This was his true arrival, the moment he had sought his whole life before ever he knew that such a thing existed.
Will pulled his mouth away briefly, and bit his own wrist to let a spill of bright blood come forth. He held it against Hannibalâs mouth, urging him to drink, and then bit down anew into the meat of Hannibalâs chest. The pull was harder this time, Will drawing out great mouthfuls of blood every second, and Hannibal knew that he must drink deeply of Will in turn. He released a hand from Willâs hair and used it to hold Willâs wrist more firmly in place, difficult though it was to coordinate his limbs. He felt light as air and just as insubstantial, as though Willâs blood would fall into his mouth and through the back of his skull.
Even as his life began slipping away, Hannibal could feel the heat rising within him, though he could no longer tell if it was the warmth of Willâs blood dripping messy over his face or if it was the rushing tidal wave of his orgasm. Will was biting him, and he was fucking him, and he was killing him, and he was filling him with new life so that he need never die again.
Keeping Willâs bleeding wrist clamped to his mouth was a struggle. Hannibal barely had strength left to hold himself together any more, so he let his arms drop to the bed and let the blood smear over his face and trusted that Will would do what needed to be done.
The last bright image that seared itself into Hannibalâs mind was of Will above him, mouth dark and bloody and hanging open in pleasure as he spilled himself inside. The terrible searing light of him expanded and blinded and burned Hannibal up where he lay, a great flare in the darkness of existence as his human life crumbled to ash and drifted away on the winds of oblivion.
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Worth Fighting For: Chapter 73- I Know Your Secrets
A/N: Sorry for the wait between chapters! Hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: 'Mother is the name for God on the lips and hearts of all children.' (James O'Barr, The Crow) V Roth is still Mother to this world and I am just one of the children singing my own tune into the night.
Rating M ( Language, Violence, There will be smut, Angst, Tragedy, Romance, Fluff)Â
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**I promise I have put the read more option in but it has been glitching.**
Chapter 73 - I Know Your Secrets
Kat
I can hear the whispers of the nurses as they move around my darkened room. Itâs late and I should be resting now that the flurry of activity, from the moment I was wheeled into the hospital, had died down completely. I looked much worse than I really had been but there had been no telling that to any of the three that had found Al and I locked in battle. If Raze hadnât been there I am pretty sure Eric would have hauled me off to his apartment first. The stab wound on my side had been enough of a motivator for them to take me to the cities hospital right along with Al.
I was so stupid holding back like I had but at the time I had the goal in mind. Get information from Al by baiting him while also stalling enough to let someone witness him attacking me. I knew there was a timer counting down until someone went after me after I didnât go back to the fear landscape room so I knew someone would come, I just couldnât guarantee who it was going to be. Really, it didnât matter to me who saw only that a witness was there to back me up. So I held out. I didnât even strike first, honestly. That was Al. Did I say something that I hoped he would get pissed about and lash out? Absolutely. But I could honestly say, physically, I did not attack the coward.
I hadnât even pulled my own knife at any time during the altercation, preferring to get in some really good damage to him with everything that Eric had taught me. I was being a combination of cautious and cocky and that was what got me the knife in my side. He pulled his own from his pants and I had hesitated, torn between taking my own out or removing the one he had and turning it on him. The hesitation had been enough to make the decision to remove the knife before he could use it useless. He was able to use his height and weight to stab me in my side during the struggle before I was able to break free and then retreated. I prevented him from getting me too bad but it had been bad enough.
I huff out a breath of anger and annoyance at myself that turns into a moan. The older nurse turns to look at me and her eyes narrow as I bite my lip. When she turns back to her co-nurse I can hear her whispering again about Eric. For what seems like the millionth time I hear the word sadistic. My fist clenches to my side as I grit my teeth together to keep in the scream I want to let loose.
Ericâs order that I am to receive no heavy pain medications has all the nurses in the area hissing his name under their breaths. One was even brave enough to say something along the lines of it being only logical considering he is one of Jeanineâs. Oh, that had me almost launching myself off the table in fury.
The person I am most angry at regarding what has the nurses all bent out of shape is myself. Because the only reason he gave that stupid order was that he knew it was what I wanted. It damn sure isnât what he wants, no matter how livid I know he is with me right now. I knew it killed him to leave me like he did know I was going to be in pain. There was nothing for it though. I knew the second I saw Jack in the corridor that both Al and I were going to be questioned and truth serum was going to be administered. I couldnât risk being doped up and trying to fight the serum if I needed to. I know Eric saw that too. I wish he had been able to stay in the room for the questions but he wasnât. He along with the others were on the other side of the glass listening in as Jack, Raze, Chase, and Zach all questioned me in regards to the events. I had been able to lie but I hardly needed to. Every question asked I was able to say with truth even if it wasnât the entire truth.
I am not sure what trouble I am in. Everyone was stoic and I think to wait until they could question Al. I had messed him up pretty badly even though I had tried to hold back. I had come close to losing it a few times and I can admit that when I did was when he got the better of me. I had been trying to taunt him into giving me something of why he did what he did. The only clear thing was he blamed me for everything and that he was obsessed with Tris, maybe even had always been.
Al had been on the verge of telling me before Raze jerked him off of me and knocked him out cold. Part of my goal was achieved, by all appearances he looked like the attacker. He was the one with the knife to my throat spitting down on me in his rage while he was trying to finish me off. Screaming his guilt about the first attempt on me. That alone was worth it.
They should have been done questioning him hours ago but I still havenât heard from or seen any of them. I know a guard is posted outside of my room. I hear the nurses grumbling when he checks everything and anything they bring in to give me.
I keep hoping that someone will come in and tell me something before the sleep medication I heard being ordered and approved is given to me. I know my time is up when the younger nurse turns to me with the syringe in her hand and a well-meaning smile on her face.
âThis will only take a few minutes to fully take effect and then that should help you sleep through most of the pain.â
I grumble out thanks even though I wish I could rip the IV out. I watch as the solution slowly gets plunged and makes its way through the short clear tubing where it will travel along the plastic inserted into my vein. I feel the rush of it marking its path until it joins with the blood flow and is lost to me. A part of my mind is analyzing everything occurring with my body, reasoning it out as I start to lose control, trying to keep myself from panicking at the loss of control. As my eyes become droopy and my body both feels heavy and relaxed; the panic that was building starts to fade and I have a hazy thought that they probably gave me some kind of calming serum or anxiety medicine because the panic fades until just peace invades me. I am out whether I want it or not and can only hope the god-awful dreams from the past few weeks donât visit me in an Erudite run facility of all places.
Luck or something seems to be with me because for once in I canât remember how long I donât dream at all. Or if I do I donât remember.
Candor Justice Complex
Uploading of classified materials. Authorization: Â Leaders Only with Level Five Clearance- Jack Kang, Max Cornell, Andrew Prior, Eric Coulter
Accused: Kat Prior
Administered Truth Serum via IV under the supervision of Jack Kang of Candor and Dauntless Leaders: Raze and Eric
Additional witnesses:
Candor: Jane Connor and Wesley Smith
Dauntless: Four Eaton and Chase Oldham
Jack Kang: Kat Prior, you are being administered truth serum so that your role in the incident that occurred today at approximately 1117 hours. I caution you not to fight the serum as it could further exacerbate your injuries and cause considerable pain. Do you understand what I have said?
Kat Prior: Yes, I do.
Jack Kang: State your full name, please.
Kat Prior: Kat is the name that I have chosen for Dauntless but my birth name is Mary Katherine Prior.
Jack Kang: Your faction of birth?
Kat Prior: Abnegation.
Jack Kang: You are currently in training to become a member of Dauntless, correct?
Kat Prior: Yes, I am.
Jack Kang: Thank you for helping us to establish that the serum is working. Now we will move on to the incident at Dauntless in the dorm room. You were found engaged in a struggle with Albert West. Did you initiate the altercation?
Kat Prior: No. I did not.
Jack Kang: There is a reason to believe that Albert was the one that had previously attacked you as well as your sister, did you have any prior knowledge of this?
Kat Prior: I had no reason to think, before today, that Al would have ever been involved in any kind of act of aggression, much less towards my sister. He was always very reluctant and vocal about his distaste and distress in regards to being violent at all. He also seemed to look up to or care for my sister greatly.
Jack Kang: You had never had any previous altercations with him or witnessed him being aggressive?
Kat Prior: No. The first time I saw Al behaving that way was today during the attack.
Jack Kang: The two of you were in the dorm alone at a time when you were supposed to be attending training. Witnesses say that you left to go to the bathroom. How is that you ended up in the dorm?
Kat Prior: I left the room where the fear landscapes were being held and intended to go to the restroom. I was feeling unsettled from the previous night and wanted to wash my face. I canât explain why I bypassed any other restrooms other than I just went to where I was most familiar with. The two places I most commonly use since my time coming to Dauntless are either the Transfer dorm room or the restroom near the Dauntless-born training room.
Jack Kang: Can you explain why there was a knife on your person at the time of the attack?
Kat Prior: After the attack on me in the dorm while I was sleeping I began to feel exposed. Shortly before the attack on my sister, I managed to sneak a knife away during our training exercises. I felt better when I had it on me. It was a bit like I felt prepared should anything or anyone else attack me. It was instinctual in a way. We have all been being trained day in and day out to be prepared to act. I wanted to be prepared.
Jack Kang: Yet when you were attacked, and you saw that Al had a knife and had used it, you did not draw your own?
Kat Prior: I honestly was surprised at his attack. I can freely admit I thought and still think he is a coward. By the time he had pulled his own knife, there was no point in me pulling mine, not to mention I didnât think of it. I was focused on trying to keep his from me and getting him down as quickly as I could.
Jack Kang: Did you have the intention to kill Albert West?
Kat Prior: No, I had no intention of killing him. When he attacked I was only thinking about stopping him. He had already admitted to me that he was behind both attacks and I knew that Leadership needed to handle this. Although I can admit now, that had it come down to it and there was no other way, I would have protected myself by any means.
Raze: It has been brought to our attention by an accusation that you were given the knife by a member. Is this true?
Kat Prior: Absolutely not. No one but me knew I had the knife and I wanted it to stay that way. That was what made me feel safer. That no one would expect me to have a knife to protect myself. That was the only purpose of my having the knife. For the feeling of safety and protection, it gave me and the knowledge that should anyone attack me I would have something to defend myself with. No one gave me the knife or had any knowledge of my having it.
Jack Kang: We are done with questioning. Thank you for your Candor.
Questioning concluded. Investigation pending and under the purview of the faction the subject belongs to. Candor has concluded that the subject was defending themselves and as such there was no criminal intent.
Dauntless will take the matter further as per their own factional laws.
Eric
I watched the ice blue eyes of Jeanine Matthews as she absorbed the document before her and made sure to keep my face clear of any emotion. It was too early to feel smug but I could already see her frustration and anger behind that icy exterior she likes to maintain.
There had been no keeping things from Jeanine now. Not with this last attack and the information that leaked it had to do with both Prior girls but also hints that somehow Marcus Eaton was involved. We had known this was going to happen and that she was going to want to be updated. There was also no way that it could be kept from the other leaders of all factions any longer. The investigation had gotten to that point.
We had the bastard. It had come at the cost of yet another goddamn attack on Kat, but it had gotten the job done. Al had spilled everything and under the truth serum had admitted, with no small amount of pain, that Marcus had been behind it all.
It was a good thing they hadnât let me in that room by myself and that Zach, as well as Chase, had been there with me. They had helped me keep my shit together when it all came out. I donât know how Four was able to manage it.
I frown as I look around at the others with me at the table when a thought hits me in regards to Four. Because for the life of me, I donât remember him being in the room when I stormed out after Al was done spilling his guts. In fact, I canât remember him heading back to the compound for the fucking meetings we have all been stuck in since leaving the MedCenter. It is early in the morning the day after Kat and Al fought but there have been several meetings already, having begun at dawn and I donât remember Four being in one of the ones he should have been in.
I would ask the others but now isnât the time. Right now, in this private meeting with Jeanine, Max, James and myself; it is all about the fact that Jeanine isnât liking what she is hearing in regards to Kat. She has been passing all markers and tests that are given to those that might be divergent. Right now it is about making sure that it is driven home that Kat has become counted as removed from the list and distract the bitch with someone else she has it out for.
Jeanine purses her lips together and lays the paper containing the transcript from Katâs questioning on the table. As soon as she heard about the attack she had sent out the demand for truth serum administration. It had worried the hell out me but it wasnât something that could be bypassed anyways. We already knew we were going to have to give it to Al and I couldnât rig it to make it look like I had given the serum to Kat without raising suspicion.
I had to stand by and hope that she would be able to resist. I had to hope that my telling the nurses not to give her any pain medication would help with that too. That had been the only reason I had given that order. To hell with knowing she wouldnât have wanted it, at that point, I didnât give a fuck about what she wanted. She sure as hell hadnât given a thought to me not wanting to have her laying in that goddamn bed.
Either way, she was able to bypass the serum while still looking and sounding exactly like someone under the influence of it. It probably helped that almost every bit of her answers were true. The only one that was a lie she worked in with the truth so seamlessly that it hadnât been noticeable to anyone. The only reason I knew it for the lie it was because I recognized my own damn knife.
Zach had pointed out to me as we were being forced to leave her at the MedCenter under guard that she had been truthful in everything else. I knew he was trying to calm me down and it worked somewhat but not fully. Because I knew what she wasnât saying. She hadnât gone there to kill him but she had sought him out purposely. She had meant to turn him over to us...to me...but not until she got her answers first. Not before she got her hands on him to get her own revenge and justice.
I know her too well and what she was going for. It was and is the exact same thing I would do. It still is leaving me feeling things that I am still struggled to handle fully.
Max clears his throat as Jeanine picks up a glass of water and takes a dainty sip. I know she is stalling for time to be able to come up with a plan to still keep Kat on the watch list.
âAs you can see, given the normal indicators for divergence have failed to present themselves, as well as this new development; it is safe to say that we can move forward and remove the candidate from the list.â Maxâs tone was unemotional and just matter of fact but he didnât stop there. âOf course we can and will continue to be vigilant for the remainder of training. There are still the fear landscapes as well as the final test, and given the intensity of those if there is any divergence it will present itself then as it has before.â
Jeanine sets the glass down and looks over to Max before letting her eyes fall on me. âI will expect to be kept up to date on all matters regarding those in question from here on.â
I didnât even bother giving any signs of agreement, having already decided to let Max handle this next little bit. It was this that had me itching with anticipation. All this time there has been this hold that Jeanine has had on Dauntless, on me, something dangling over our heads that has us making deals with the devil that she is. I donât know what Maxâs deal was or what his drive could be. What I do know is that after our meeting with Jack and Andrew, before the one we are having now, it felt like everything had changed.
I could almost see years worth of troubles, frustration, and burden, if not lifting from the older manâs shoulders at least that there was an end in sight after the final verdict.
Marcus Eaton was being removed from his position as a leader and then would stand trial for his numerous crimes.
We had done it. I knew that this would please Jeanine but I also saw the other side of that coin. With Marcus gone, there was a very strong chance that all the cards she had to get her way and have any kind of control over Dauntless, were going to disappear after his removal. There will have to be another leader elected and with all the deference and respect I saw from other leaders to Andrew Prior, I already knew who was likely to be chosen. If he was elected, there could be some real chance for change around here.
I was so wrapped up in my thoughts I missed the beginning of Max informing Jeanine of the new developments. By the time he is done, I can tell my guesses are correct. She is pleased but I also see in those eyes she is already calculating.
âI am assuming that the emergency council meeting that also included the request for all faction leaders or representatives present is to inform us of Marcusâ immediate removal?â Jeanine asks, knowing full well that is the case. That it is the protocol even if it has never had to be used before.
âYes. There will also be the call for the immediate election of a new leader.â Max agreed without looking at her.
Did he guess how she would react to the possibility of Andrew being elected? Would his knowing or at least suspecting her obsession with the Priorâs change how he might vote, for fear of rocking the boat with her?
âI see.â Is her simple reply with her lips thinned.
The loud sounding of my phone alerting me to code 240 possibly 217 pierces the strained quiet. The codes are both indicators of an assault but the second one notes that there might have been an intent to kill. The only time we use codes is if it would be a high profile or priority incident. Where details cannot be given over message but would need to be given in person.
Once again I am leaving a meeting, to the obvious and vocal displeasure of Jeanine, but this time I head with Chase to Control.
He beat me by seconds and is already barking out orders as soon as we reach the secured area. Zeke is in there furiously working on the monitors.
âReport.â Chase snaps out formally before I can get to it.
Zekeâs head snaps up and he takes us in, maybe looking for anyone else that might be behind us. It strikes me once again, that I am not seeing Four. He should be here already and especially right now.
For a second I forget why I am even in control as the thought that maybe he snuck back to the MedCenter strikes me, and suddenly I have rage flowing through me at the thought of him alone with Kat.
Then the report Zeke is giving Chase and I registers.
âThere was an attack, it looks like by some factionless, in Abnegation last night.â He gets out in a strained tone and I can see the worry in his eyes.
For a moment, time stands still and I all I can think is that Marcus got to Andrew and Natalie. All I can think is that I have failed Kat and how she is going to react to this news.
âDetails. Now.â Chase barks out and is already moving on his own to the monitors and computers.
âMarcus Eaton never turned up at the Hub this morning and all attempts by phone or messages to reach him failed. A member was sent to check on him and found him unresponsive and in critical condition in his home.â
âMarcus Eaton?â I choked out in disbelief. âMarcus Eaton was attacked?â
Zeke nods and looks up to me, then I see his eyes slide past me to look over my shoulder. I turn my head and catch sight of a familiar figure. Four is standing in the doorway, fists clenched at his sides but otherwise silent and expressionless.
âYou said that factionless are suspected?â I ask while my eyes are still locked onto Fourâs.
âThere was one person that came forward and said there had been some factionless men in the area earlier that day, just before dinner that had been confrontational to a few of the Abnegation women there. They did eventually leave but they were heard to be throwing back yelled threats as they left.â
Four looks surprised for a moment, relieved and pleased even before it is gone. Gone so quickly that if someone hadnât been looking for it or any kind of reaction they wouldnât have seen. But I did and I turned my head from Four to look at Chase.
âWeâll put together a team to go investigate. This will be classified just like the investigation into Marcus has been. Zeke, take Rob and head to the MedCenter to get more information on Marcusâ condition and post a guard there. Chase, you and I will head to the Abnegation sector and meet up with the group there.â I issue the orders and turn to face Four, who is still standing in the doorway. I debate for a second before I make a decision. âFour, take Wes and Cecil to the factionless sector and see what you can get on the group from the previous day. Also, pull any footage from that entire time until Marcus was found. See if we have anything that came up on our vid surveillance.â
Four gives me a tense nod but I am already moving on to the next step. My phone is out and I have updated Jack and Max. I will let Max handle if he wants to inform Jeanine or not and also contacting Andrew.
I am typing as I walk beside Chase. My thoughts are running a million miles a minute but there is one big question on my mind. Would Four actually have had the balls to pull something like that off?
Chase and I take a transport ourselves, with him driving. We arenât ten minutes out of the complex when he speaks up from beside me, his voice quiet but firm. âIt was Four.â
My head was buried in my phone, sifting through all the information and all the intel that is being fed to me via messages. Four did the surveillance portion of my orders, but as expected there isnât shit on the cameras that give us a clue to who might have pulled off the attack.
I pull my face away from the screen and look over to Chase. âIt if it was then that would be putting more weight to those peanuts he is passing off as his balls.â I scoff with a smirk. âThe more likely story, the one I know we are going to confirm when all is said and done,â I say meaningfully, â...is that it was factionless.â
Chase glances at me and a ghost of a smile lift the corners of his mouth. He knows what I am doing but he isnât going to say it. He better not say it anyways. Because fuck if I am doing this for goddamn Four. I just know it would kill Kat if fucking Tobias went to jail for doing what we all want to do.
What I wanted to do and would have...eventually. I can give him a pass for taking away the pleasure I would have had for that deed because in the end it just did me the favor of getting him out of the picture as a threat to Kat and her family. I refuse to let this make me like or respect him.
#divergent#divergent fanfiction#divergent au#eric x oc#eric coulter fanfic#romance#angst#tragedy#Smut#fluff#Eric Coulter#OC#tris#four#FOURTRIS#jai courtney#Michael Jai White#Chloe Grace Moretz#liam hemsworth#idris elba
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Operation: Voltron
Part 20
Lance
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Lance's breath is caught in his throat as he waits.
Sendak has his full attention as he looks Lance over. Lance likes to think that curious deja vu look has nothing to do with Lance himself. He prefers not thinking about the consequences if Sendak actually recognized him. Sendak takes his sweet time looking him over, or maybe time has just slowed for Lance. Like a cliche slow motion shot in a movie.
"You must be the man we talked to about a job earlier." Sendak says, looking away and turning back to the doorway Lance stands in. He gets the hint, and lets it swing shut behind him before stepping forward with a cocky smile, heart racing so loud in his ear he feels like the people can hear his fear from it.
"That's me, what are we looking at exactly?" Lance says, stepping forward more with all the cocky confidence he could muster. Leandro, his alias for the mission, was a cocky asshole who objectified women and had a penchant for irritating people. So like his normal self, but ten times worse.
"What's your name?" Someone asks harshly beside Sendak. A brute of a man stands beside Sendak, his arms crossed and a scowl on his face. Lance recognizes him, from a file he was given by Keith before this all started. Apparently they had been able to get some people on the inside of Zarkon's operations. This guy was called Antok, another alias. The bottom half of his face was covered in a mask.
Lance makes sure to wipe his expression of any recognition.
"The name's Blue Lion, but you can call me Leandro." Lance says, chucking his hip out and reaching into his jacket to pull out a toothpick to chew it. Like he said, asshole. Had to be the biggest asshole on this planet. Someone else speaks, standing closer to Lance than Sendak. There's four of them, Sendak, Antok, this guy and a woman.
"I thought the Blue Lion was caught and arrested by the FBI?" The guy says, slim with a creepy looking face. Eyes just a little to wide to be normal, smile sharp, and teeth even sharper, like vampire fangs. A shiver tries to break through, but Lance cools it with a smile. He picks his toothpick out of his mouth and uses it to point at the guy.
"Amateur, the real Blue Lion, me, would never be caught." Lance says. He hears a snort in his ear and fights off the urge to scowl at Pidge, clacking his teeth hard, making Pidge hiss. She had outfitted Lance with a very discreet ear piece, shoved so far into his ear that if he rubbed his ear, it would probably harm his eardrum. He also had a tooth microphone, and the latest of contact lens cameras. If Pidge typed into the lens thingies he would see floating words in front of him.
It was a last resort, didn't want Lance to be caught reading thin air.
The group seemed to take it as it was, moving on and laying out the plans for the heist. It seems more complicated than necessary. The woman was to charm her way close to someone with a key pass into the building and swipe it off him, then give it to the creepy guy to use to get the truck into the gates. Antok was chosen to run the cameras on loop for five minutes while the heist went down.
Lance would be smuggled into the building, and had less than five minutes to get the jewels and get back to the truck without being seen. Easier said than done when he realized they left a lot of pertinent information out, that Lance already knows of from Keith. Which includes hand and eye scanners, and a layer of personnel guarding the warehouse, then he had to locate the jewels and get through it all backwards and back to the truck.
Within five minutes.
The heist was to go down tomorrow night. So Lance had until tomorrow night to prepare his tools and knowledge for a heist he wasn't ready for. It isn't the first time Lance has had to do rush jobs, but this was just a bit insane. Lance agreed anyways, despite the glint in Sendak's eye promising him much misfortune if failed.
The thought of what Sendak would do to him if he saw past the cocky smile sent a surge of impractical panic through his chest. He could feel it tightening on the way back to the Castle, heart pumping faster than normal. He's pretty sure he's having a slight panic attack. And why wouldn't he? Sendak physically clamped a hand over the creepy guy's mouth to avoid giving Lance the information he needed for a heist. Which probably meant Lance was recognized. Which was bad. And panic inducing.
Lance marched back into the castle, ripping out his contacts and pulling out his ear piece before the entire team was inside the building. He marched over to the workbench Pidge and Hunk uses, setting the devices down more gently then the anxiousness in his veins suggested possible. The tooth would have to be taken out by Pidge, lest Lance ruin the technology. This team may be a well payed and government sanctioned operation, but Lance doubted they had all the money in the world.Â
Lance paced around the room, rubbing his hands together, babbling in a mix of languages. He had no control over what he was saying, breakdowns like this rarely allow him to make coherent sentences in a chosen language, despite his mind being clear. He could hear the sounds of footsteps cautiously tracing his path as he worked from one wall to the other, mind working like a freight train.Â
âLance?â Allura asked, her accent slipping, making the alias sound more like âLonceâ. Lance ignored her probing question, preferring instead to keep pacing, but he halted as he came face to face with Shiro. Shiro seemed to actually look concerned, but Lance doubted he really cared. Lance was a criminal, and the person who tormented his brother for three years.
"What's wrong Lance? Why are you so anxious?" Allura said, now standing behind him. Lance whips around, knowing that Allura was the one he should be wary of the most out of everyone. He knows what she did, what caused her to leave the military. He knows just how dangerous she really is. His breathing picks up again and his eyes unfocus.
Is he hyperventilating? Probably.
"Because he recognized me! Sendak recognized me, he had to of. And that's bad, for everyone, but especially for my health." Lance said, throwing his hands in the air then bringing them down to start chewing on his nails. Which sucks, because he just got them done not too long ago. He broke away to babble again. He should really stop that.
Lance stepped around Allura and continued pacing.
"I spent years making sure that guy thought I was dead, that he finished the job." Lance said, so quietly he was positive no one could hear him. But he didn't care, he just wanted to get out of here. Take off the anklet like he's so tempted to try, and go off the grid. Collect every dollar he's stashed away and live on a farm or something. Retire.
But Keith would hunt him down.
Right? He's been so vigilant, tracking Lance's every move, hunting him down like the BloodHound he's named after. Maybe Lance will never be free, always forced to look over his shoulder and live a life of secrecy. He's on the verge of a complete mental breakdown when he's forced to a stop.
Hands on his shoulders stop him in his tracks, clamping down hard. Not painful hard, but like forceful hard. And not forceful hard as in he has no choice but to obey, but forceful hard as in very persuasive. And not persuasive as in threatening, but persuasive as in relaxing. What was he doing again?
Right, freaking out, he forgot.
The hands on his shoulders force him to turn, and dark violet pools fill his blurry vision. It only takes a second of looking into those eyes to clear his eyesight up a little bit, no longer caught in a panic induced meltdown.
"Breath." Keith says. A simple and lonely word, which should be useless against the state Lance was spiraling into. Keith demonstrates by breathing really loud and slow, and Lance knows what he's doing. But he soon finds himself sucking in a deep breath, the tightness on his chest loosening, as he breaths in time with Keith's. Keith nods, slowly, and after a moment Lance nods back. He can breath again.
"Better?" Keith asks.
Lance takes a second to calm his frazzled nerves, sucking in slow breaths to calm down. His arms drop to his sides, now that he wasn't chewing away a nice manicure. It takes a moment, but Lance musters up a shaky smile.
"What are you, a one word wonder Kogane?"
Keith cocks an eyebrow then snorts, clapping Lance lightly on the shoulder.
"At least we know you aren't broken anymore. Now let's get you prepared for a heist." Keith says. Lance huffs in indignation, but he dutifully follows Keith's lead, prodding at the man to start up an argument. Something about hippos maybe, Lance doesn't care. Nor does care for the eyes following his movements across the room.
******
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#voltron#voltron au#voltron fic#lance mcclain#keith kogane#shiro#takashi shirogane#katie holt#pidge gunderson#hunk garrett#allura#coran#matt holt#modern!au#white collar!au#hawaii five o!au#zarkon#military!shiro#fbi!keith#nasa!pidge#nasa!hunk#criminal!lance
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Ciudad de Mexico
There are an estimated 70,000 prostitutes in Mexico City. Somewhere between 2500 and 5000 of those are under the age of eighteen. Some of these women and children are refugees and runaways tricked with the promise of a job and a future. Some of these women and children are physically kidnapped. The children frequently are forced into prostitution by a parent or other family member. Many of them are forcefully drugged until they become addicted which improves compliance with their captors and pimps. Some of them are expected to turn upwards of eighteen âtricksâ (sexual acts) a day just to keep from owing their pimps money. While they work the streets they are continually watched by âfalconesâ - men paid by the pimps to prevent the girls from running away. Misconduct results in beatings. Sometimes beatings are just a part of everyday life. I just returned from a mission trip to Mexico City, and these women and children, along with the missionaries there serving them daily, are the people we went to serve.
The story of our Mexico mission trip begins before we even set foot on a plane. Just a few weeks before weâre scheduled to leave there is a major miscommunication (due either to translation issues or cultural communication quirks) between our team and the Mexico City team that threatens to blow up the whole trip. About two weeks before weâre scheduled to leave, I wake up with a stuffy nose, headache, and dizziness. "Allergies" I thought, no big deal. A week goes by and things get worse rather than better. Iâve got a sinus infection. I have never, in my entire life, had a sinus infection. About four days before weâre set to leave I start taking a heavy-duty antibiotic which destroys my stomach - Montezumaâs revenge before I even get to Mexico. About a week before weâre set to leave, one of our number starts running a high fever with several other unexplained symptoms earning him a trip to the doctor and a test for Lyme disease (thankfully negative). He goes on heavy duty antibiotics a couple of days before the trip. His fever only breaks the day before weâre set to leave. Another of our number has passport issues. He has to drive to Atlanta the day before the trip and stand in line at the passport office to hopefully get one printed right then and there. The day before weâre set to leave, the leader of our mission trip has sudden unexplained jaw pain. His face swells up like heâd been punched. He gets in to see a doctor the morning before we get on the plane and gets heavy duty antibiotics for an infected parotid gland. Iâve always had difficulty with spiritual warfare. I âbelieveâ in it, on an intellectual level, but itâs hard in everyday life to acknowledge that circumstances are ever more than just coincidence. In this case though, itâs obvious that something is actively working against this trip, and that was a new experience for me.
The mission we went to serve is called El Pozo de Vida - The Well of Life. They have offices and ministries all around Mexico City specializing in three areas: Prevention, Intervention, Restoration. From their main offices, they run a company called Nunayu, a restoration project, where they teach former victims of sex trafficking to make and sell jewelry. Using virtual reality goggles, I watched the story of a Bangladeshi woman, 23, forced into prostitution at age nine by her mother. She was given drugs to make her develop more quickly. The drugs and the hard life make her look fifty instead of twenty-three. There is a safe home for underage girls rescued from sexual slavery. The roof of this building is trimmed with razor wire. The doors to the outside require keys to open. Visitors arenât allowed cell phones. These precautions are in place to protect the girls from themselves as much as from outsiders. These children are so severely brainwashed that they will borrow or steal cellphones from visitors to call their pimps. They want nothing more than to return to their previous lives. El Pozo works to provide restoration for these girls. They provide for their physical well-being through free medical care and a live-in nurse at the home. They address their emotional and psychological well being through individual and group therapy sessions. They tend to their spiritual needs through daily prayer and Bible study and they attend church services, though only in small groups of two or three â girls have attempted to escape at church before. El Pozo tries to give these girls a normal teenage life. While we were there we got to celebrate a quinceanera (15th birthday) for one of the girls. Iâm not a dancer, but it is customary for all the men at a quinceanera to dance with the birthday girl, so I did â extremely poorly. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time for most of our dance and she stepped on my toes more than once. It made her giggle and blush and it felt good to me to be the reason her and her friends were laughing. El Pozo has a second home for women who are over seventeen. This transition home is free while the women are working or going to school. Finding a job is difficult for a former prostitute. Pimps and johns donât make good professional references. This ministry cares so tangibly for these women that they do not stop with rescuing and offering housing. They reach out to local businesses and make connections so these women can get jobs and earn livings.
God often orchestrates situations to accomplish many things at once and in the moment, most individuals involved only see one little sliver of that grand design. As with spiritual warfare, I âknowâ that but rarely recognize or acknowledge it when I experience it. I take a medicine that is quite effective at dealing with my chronic depression but has the unfortunate side effect of increasing my anxiety. Our first day in Mexico City, the fifteen of us piled into a van with no air conditioning to visit the El Pozo offices. Itâs not hot in Mexico City. It rarely gets above 84°F the whole year, but fifteen people packed in with instruments and bags and no air conditioning in barely moving traffic... things get pretty hot. I made the mistake of sitting in the very back of the van nowhere near any open window. When air gets hot and stale around me I start to feel claustrophobic. In this instance, I was fighting with every thought and prayer against the onrush of panic. I was too embarrassed about being on the verge of a panic attack to ask anyone to pull over. I was on the brink of screaming and diving over seats in attempt to find fresh air when the van suddenly stopped, dead, in the middle of a Mexico City street. We were out of gas. I was ecstatic to be among the ones piling out to push the van a quarter mile or so down a busy street to the nearest gas station. I see this as Godâs orchestration for at least two other reasons. It was an excellent team building exercise. At the end of the week, one of our number said, "on every mission trip I've been on, there's always at least one person about whom I'm thinking I've had just about enough of this person and just need to get away but there's no one like that on this trip". Everyone else agreed. Secondly, our guide, Rodrigo, (who was driving the van) said he was scared to death about what we'd think or do when the van ran out of gas. Presumably, there are some mission teams that would have just sat on the side of the road while he tried to get a tow truck out there. Because of our take-whatever-comes attitude, Rodrigo said we were one of the best teams theyâd ever had.
I woke one morning in Mexico City feeling a strong desire to get just the guys together and share my story of sexual sin. I struggled most of my adult life with an addiction to pornography. This addiction was so strong that I even carried it secretly into my marriage. By Godâs grace, I have been free from the bonds of that addiction for many years now, but there are permanent scars in me and in my marriage. However, Iâve chosen not to be ashamed of it anymore. It is probably the most powerful part of my redemption story. It is a wonderful testament to Godâs power to rescue and to redeem. I didnât fully realize it until after Iâd gathered these men together and shared with them, but every time that Iâve shared my story with others God has moved powerfully in some way. Men have chosen to open up and confess their own struggles. Men have chosen to fight back in ways they never could before. Men have even been rescued completely from their own addictions. Godâs strength is made perfect and glorified through my weakness. (2nd Corinthians 12:9, paraphrased obviously)
Pornography, like prostitution, is a form of human trafficking. Despite the illusion the of proud âporn starâ in America, most girls and women do not engage in pornography willingly. Though somewhat indirectly, my problems with porn had contributed to the enslavement of the women at El Pozo. Lust, pornography, adultery, prostitution â these are not different sins. Jesus said so: âBut I say to you that everyone who looks at a woman with lustful intent has already committed adultery with her in his heartâ Matthew 5:28. These are all just different points on single sliding scale of sin. When we asked the people working for El Pozo âwhat can we do to help?â the overwhelming answer was âgo back to America and try to change the cultureâ. America is the biggest driver of the problem. It would take several books to fully explain that but hereâs a quick stab at it. Sex trafficking is an economic problem. The use of pornography generates revenue and it generates demand. There is an economic pressure produced by consuming pornography on the Internet that incentivizes both women and traffickers to get involved. And that economic pressure doesnât stop with pornography. Many who utilize prostitutes started with pornography. If thereâs money to be made enslaving girls for porn, thereâs money to be made enslaving them for prostitution. America is the largest consumer of online pornography by a huge margin. America by-and-large creates the economic demand that drives human sexual trafficking. If we could change that culture, we could literally change the world.
In America, prosperity dulls the shine of the miraculous. Dulled glory brings about dulled passion. Dulled passion diminishes hope and expectation in God's future graces and redemptive works. The women who work in this ministry are passionate. They have hope in God's future plans. They have faith in His strength to carry out those plans. They go boldly into the darkest places, not because they feel they are bringing the light into those places, but because they are obediently following the Light that's already on Its way there. When they speak of the love of Christ they do so without a shred of doubt because they witness it daily. "The harvest is plentiful but the workers are few" (Matthew 9:37) In our short week there we saw hundreds of prostitutes, and dozens upon dozens of their enslavers (pimps, falcones, johns). Maybe thirteen or fourteen people working daily to free them all. Jesus' heart is for the enslaved, and the people of El Pozo are His hands and feet in a part of the world rampant with literal slavery. "He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners" Luke 4:18/Isaiah 61:1.
Because of the work they are doing, the people of El Pozo have a unique perspective on the power of forgiveness. They walk with women who were kidnapped or forced into prostitution by a parent, sometimes before the age of ten, women who were forcibly drugged, who were raped multiple times a day for years. They see these women give their hearts over to Jesus, and they see them forgive. I struggle to forgive the old lady who merges onto the interstate at 40mph and these women forgive their parents, their captors, their pimps, their rapists. That's a powerful act. That's a level of grace I find hard to even imagine.
The most impactful time on the trip, the most surprisingly, selflessly, good act I witnessed was the El Pozo Block Party. Once a month, the people of El Pozo, along with sixty to eighty volunteers from all over Mexico City and mission trips from all over the world, bring food, drinks, music, and gifts into one of the most spiritually dark and dangerous parts of the city. At 9pm on Saturday night we walked down to the heart of the La Merced marketplace. At this time of night all the street vendors are gone, all the sidewalk shops locked by graffiti covered steel rollups. Thereâs a 12â high chain-link fence separating the sidewalk from the street. Along that fence, dozens and dozens of men are lined up. Some are johns, some are pimps and falcones, and, perhaps strangest of all, some are there just to watch. Along the steel covered shops there are dozens and dozens of prostitutes. Military style police vehicles drive back and forth down the street all night with lights flashing. A group of twenty or more police officers in tactical gear marched by in formation. The sun has set and the street lights are few and far between. Itâs dark in all the ways a place can be dark. But here, like a tiny candle flame in this vast ocean of darkness, is this group of sixty or so people just having fun. This wasnât evangelism. There were no street preachers, no pamphlets or Bibles being pushed into peopleâs hands. Just a group of people handing out hotdogs and churros to the pimps and johns, carrying long stemmed flowers with notes of encouragement to the working girls, groups walking down the side streets inviting anyone they passed to the party, teenagers painting little kids fingernails (the children of the prostitutes), a six foot tall white girl with flaming red hair laughing and talking with the dirtiest homeless guy youâve ever seen, gringos trying desperately to remember anything from 12th grade Spanish 2, three guys with guitars, microphones, and a PA system that had no power because there was nowhere to plug it up⌠it was amazing. El Pozo treats this block party like itâs their neighborhood. Like theyâve just invited all their best friends over for a backyard barbeque. Thereâs no judgement or animosity, no calls to repentance or haughty eyes looking down on the sinners. Just Jesusâ love poured out on those most in need.
I'm a cynic. It is an area of great sin in my life. I confess that my judgy inner-monologue has often gone like this: Oh, you spent three grand to fly to a poor country and give some poor kids Bibles? Now you're a 'new man' in Jesus and you're going to go on two mission trips a year because you've had a 'mountain top experience'? This trip made it clear to me that, yes, that's exactly how it's supposed to happen. God expects us to go and be refilled by encounters with Him. That's part of why we go to church every week. We should go on mission trips as often as we're able, not just because the poor kids need the Bibles, but because we need to give the Bibles. I already had a heart for helping people deal with sexual sin, but this trip fueled that in a way nothing else ever has. There is a power in seeing with your own eyes. God moves something inside you when you physically touch someone who's been extraordinarily hurt by someone else's sin - your sin. Sure, that fire in me will wear off, but hopefully by then I'll be preparing to go back or go elsewhere and be filled up again.
I've struggled for over a month to write this. That is mostly because the experience was so amazing, so important, and no matter how hard I try, these words just seem to fall miles short of conveying that. Part of that is pride and part of it is fear of portraying something so important as uninteresting. When I think about the way God has moved in men's hearts whenever I've shared my story, I feel like He's saying to me "I'll do the work, you just start the conversation". In the same way, my words will never be adequate to describe what I experienced or to change minds about human trafficking or sexual exploitation, but here's my stab at starting the conversation. I'm so thankful that I got to go on this trip. I'm so grateful to God and to all those who supported me in prayer and financially for the profound experience I had. If you have questions or thoughts on this letter, sex trafficking, or pornography Iâd love to hear them. It would be an honor to share more or talk with you about my trip or my experiences.
Thanks again for all your support!
If youâd like more information or want to support El Pozo de Vida, please visit their website http://www.elpozodevida.org.mx/
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