#blame beka for there being two of these

[bittybug-sunflower-blog]

Chapter summary: Rebekath, a former Jedi who left the Order for love, revealing deep personal conflicts. Fast forward three years, and Rebekath, now a performer, grapples with the remnants of her past amid the chaos of a galaxy at war. Witness her emotional turmoil as she encounters the betrayal of former comrades and hears a somber message from Obi-Wan Kenobi about the fall of the Jedi Order.

Warning: death/murder

Word count: 1878

Rating 18+

Extra: alternate universe story

….

Chapter 1

"Beka?!" A gruff voice called out, his eyes scanning the open patio area. "Beka?!"

The bustling atmosphere of the cantina drowned out the urgency in the man's voice as patrons laughed and chattered, oblivious to the unfolding drama. He stepped outside on the nearby patio to escape the busyness.

"Excuse me, are you CT-9...?" a robotic voice inquired, its metallic tone cutting through the din.

"Yeah, yeah," the gruff voice interrupted, his attention now fully focused on the approaching protocol droid.

With a graceful glide, the droid extended a metallic appendage bearing a small holoprojector.

"Master Rebekath left this for you," the droid stated matter-of-factly, its servos whirring softly as it deposited the device into the man's waiting hand before swiftly retreating into the crowd.

The man's rough fingers traced the smooth surface of the holoprojector, a silent pause hanging heavy in the air as he hesitated to activate it. He pulled his helmet off, staring longer at the device. Finally, with a resigned sigh, he thumbed the power switch, his heart heavy with anticipation and dread.

A flicker of blue light illuminated his weather-beaten face as the holographic recording materialized before him, casting an ethereal glow. "My love, if you're seeing this, it means I've made a difficult decision. I've left the Jedi Order because my feelings for you have grown too strong. The fear of losing you in battle is overwhelming, and I can't bear to put everything we fight for at risk. Moreover, my emotional attachment to us has plagued and clouded my judgment in our recent battles, further endangering the people we fight beside. Please don't blame yourself; we both entered this relationship willingly. However, the thought of you or your teammates getting in trouble or killed from our recent mission, at my expense... The council turning a blind eye if anything were to happen to you or my own Padawan. They wash their hands of our fate. Please, keep fighting, stay safe. May the Force be with you; always..." Then the hologram started to repeat the message, each repetition a dagger to the man's already burdened soul and mind.

He turned the holoprojector off, his hand falling limply to his side as he grappled with the weight of the message. No words escaped his lips, but the turmoil in his eyes spoke volumes as he struggled to come to terms with the revelation.

With a heavy heart, he placed his helmet on his head, the cool metal providing a semblance of comfort amidst the hurt raging within him, and quietly slipped away inside amongst the throng of beings milling around the cantina.

The horizon seemed to set slower that evening.

One year later...

As she faced the expectant crowd, every eye fixed on her, she parted her lips, and a melody of captivating voices poured forth, enveloping the audience. Standing tall and proud, her round face framed by a mix of short and long strands of black and purple hair, she commanded attention. Two bold red rectangles graced each cheek, accentuating her features, while beneath each eye, a striking purple triangle lay hidden beneath her mask. Her dark brown eyes peered intently through the mask's apertures, focused on her performance with unwavering determination.

Each lyric seemed to captivate her watchers. She danced in a dress that made her movements look like a flower.

"Did I think I'd wind up as a performer...?" She thought to herself, "With no direction or orders guiding me, was this just something to fill in the gaps?"

During a chorus, a sudden pang and shift of energy filled her head. She fell to the ground panting as she heard voices scream in pain while others begged for mercy.

"Beka?" A dancer came to her side. A nickname that was naturally given to her by people around her. Beka stared into the audience as murmurs and whispers erupted. She looked down to the ground, "the shift in the force has been unbalanced," Beka murmured in a quiet whisper. The screams of anguish overcame her mind.

The dancers and other performers quickly pulled Beka off the stage as the curtain fell.

When the audience had left, she got an earful from her new boss...

"What was that? We lost half of what we earned due to your stunt!" Finis Zapal yelled. The old yellow skinned Rodian walked slowly but sternly to Rebekath.

Finis Zapal, usually levelheaded and kind-hearted Rodian, he manages the traveling performance group, called the Ribbon Singers, Beka herself being known as Miss Ribbon Singer specifically. Despite his species' reputation, Finis stands out for his generosity and empathy, though he still has traits of greed like any species of the galaxy. He navigates the challenges of touring across different planets, fostering a supportive environment for his diverse troupe.

"I'm sorry Finis, I... I just need some air," Beka stood up, pushed her mask over her head, and walked out the backstage door.

The crisp air hit her face. She closed her eyes and could feel the lives of the people she once fought beside slipping away one by one. Hearing the cries of anger and fear as if the wind was carrying them away.

Tears streamed from her face. Then the sounds of blasters rang through the city. A loud blast came nearby. She ran to the sound, staring into the large city, familiar voices started shouting, "Surrender!"

As she crept closer to the source of the commotion, Beka's hearts pounded in her chest, each step heavy with the weight of her past and the uncertainty of the present. The cacophony of blaster fire filled the air, mingling with the desperate cries of those caught in the crossfire. Through the chaos, she caught glimpses of familiar faces, or at least a familiar attire that protected their faces. The very troopers she had once led into battle, now turned against her fellow Jedi. A cause she could no longer support. Her grip tightened on her dress, the fabric offering little solace against the chill of the night air.

As she rounded a corner, she caught sight of them - a small group of clone troopers, their scuffed-up armor gleaming in the harsh light of the cityscape. They stood with weapons raised, their faces obscured behind expressionless helmets as they trained their sights on a lone figure in the distance.

It was a Jedi - a fellow warrior, now facing the full force of the Empire's wrath. Their lightsaber glowing a bright green. Beka's hearts lurched in her chest as she watched helplessly, her mind racing with the memories of battles fought side by side, the camaraderie shared in the heat of combat now nothing but a distant echo.

With a determined resolve, she adjusted her mask, concealing her features as she prepared to intervene. But before she could act, a barrage of blaster fire erupted from the troopers' weapons, tearing through the air with deadly accuracy.

Beka's breath caught in her throat as she watched the Jedi dodge and weave, their movements a blur of grace and precision amidst the chaos. But even their skill was no match for the overwhelming firepower of the clone troopers' blasters, and with a final, desperate lunge, they fell to the ground, lifeless and still.

Beka watched as they shot down the young Jedi, she watched them fall to the ground lifeless. A silent cry of anguish tore from Beka's lips as she watched the scene unfold before her, the weight of the moment crashing down on her with a force she could scarcely comprehend. These were her comrades, her allies - and now they lay fallen, victims of the same allies that had now torn the galaxy apart.

With heavy hearts, she slipped away from the scene, her eyes burning with unshed tears as she slipped into the shadows, her presence unnoticed amidst the chaos of the night. The war was lost, the darkness closing in around them. She reached the auditorium; she walked past her colleagues. Their voices drained out by her consumed thoughts. Her thoughts raced as she was prepared to find a way to Coruscant, to get a better understanding of the shift in war. However, a hand on her shoulder made her turn around.

"Beka, you need to see this," Finis held up a holoprojector. A transmission from none other than Obi-Wan Kenobi himself began to play. "This is Master Obi-Wan Kenobi. I regret to report that both our Jedi Order and the Republic have fallen, with the dark shadow of the Empire rising to take their place. This message is a warning and a reminder for any surviving Jedi. Trust in the Force. Do not return to the Temple. That time has passed. And our future is uncertain. We will each be challenged. Our trust... our faith... our friendships. But we must persevere. And in time, a new hope will emerge. May the Force be with you, always."

Beka stared and stared at Finis, sliding her mask back over her face. Finis looked at Beka with sympathy.

"The war is lost, the darkness has only begun," Beka whispered to Finis, "The clones have turned on us."

Finis put his hand on her shoulder, "You will have to earn your keep if you want to stay under their radar," he said.

Beka said nothing but stared emptily ahead.

The days blurred into weeks, and the weeks into months. Beka found herself drifting further from her past as a Jedi, embracing the life of a singer and performer with Finis's crew. Each day brought new challenges and dangers, but it also offered moments of fleeting peace amidst the chaos of the galaxy.

Yet, no matter how far she ran, the memories of her time as a Jedi haunted her. The faces of her former comrades, the ideals she once held dear, they lingered in the recesses of her mind like specters refusing to be banished.

One night, as she sat alone in her quarters aboard Finis's ship, Beka found herself drawn to the holoprojector that still held the message from Obi-Wan Kenobi. With heavy hearts, she activated it once more, allowing the familiar voice to fill the room.

As Obi-Wan's words echoed in the darkness, Beka's resolve wavered. Could she continue to turn her back on her Jedi heritage, even as the galaxy descended further into chaos? Was there still a place for her amongst the stars, or was she destined to forever wander as a lost soul?

Lost in her thoughts, Beka scarcely noticed when Finis entered the room, his presence a silent comfort amidst her turmoil. Without a word, he sat beside her, his weathered face betraying the weight of their shared burdens.

"You've been through worse, Beka," he said softly, his voice a reassuring sound. "And you'll survive this too."

His words offered no easy answers, no quick solutions to the dilemmas that plagued them both. But in that moment, as they sat side by side in the quiet darkness, Beka found a glimmer of hope amidst the uncertainty of the future.

For as long as she was still breathing, perhaps there was still a chance to carve out a new path in a galaxy torn apart by war and betrayal. And with the Force as her guide, anything was possible.

[balloons-in-bold]

A Struggle In Secret: The Wedding Riddle

Part one of three in my series on growing up in a cult.

My upbringing in The Family International, formerly known as The Children of God, was a mixed bag. I had such a loving and supporting family, and many incredible experiences traveling and performing. Most of the latent effects of the isolation of homeschooling and living in a country with an especially difficult language barrier surfaced during my later integration into "normal" American life.

David Berg, my great-grandfather and the founder of The Children of God, died several years before I was born. Nonetheless, he remained an all important religious figure in our lives, behind only Jesus himself. My education and spiritual development was buttressed by decades of propaganda material, yet my cult experience wasn't as intense as previous generations. My parents did the best they could to shield us kids from the abuses they went through. The 2000’s marked the waning years of a cult that once boasted ten thousand members. The bustling commune homes that dotted the globe became fewer and less populated. Because of the cult’s lessened omnipresence, I wasn’t provided sufficient opportunities to develop my social and romantic skills properly, which, compounded with introverted tendencies, left me with few substantial relationships, a problem that persisted long after we had left the cult.

It took several years to stop blaming myself for my stunted development, and even longer to move forward on a path of self improvement. I had crippling social anxiety that I still feel clinging to me occasionally. Pulling up to a party or other social function, I’d feel jolts of electricity shoot through my body, and the adrenaline would drain my brain of coherent thoughts, leaving only an urgent sense of dread. My journey of self discovery and search for community and connection was made so much more difficult by the lack of shared experiences I had with those around me. Every time I mentioned my past, and how, no I can’t relate to your funny high school anecdote, I mostly got blank stares and a rush to change the topic. A surface level explanation didn’t come close to adequately bridging the gaps separating myself from those around me.

2022 Was when I determined that, in order to properly move forward, I needed to confront the remnants of isolation and alienation in as direct a way as possible. As an artist, that meant telling my story through symbolic imagery. Like a divine revelation, the story of Samson fighting the lion (Judges 14:5) entered my mind. A struggle in secret that no one at his wedding had knowledge of, and when presented with the riddle, had no chance of coming up with an answer (Judges 14:12-14).

The painting was at first only meant to be a quick solution as background imagery but grew into so much more. I layered to the collage portions of the canvas to tell the journey that stretched back thousands of years, starting with papyrus fragments, followed by King James bible pages, old MO letters, Life With Grandpa pages, and topped off with the A-beka christian fundamentalist homeschooling material. Expanding outwards and constricting inwards, leaving me trapped and isolated. The border has its cracks, fracturing under the cumulative dissonance of the inevitable internal struggle. The painted portion leads towards the center, down into a pit so deep, climbing out feels almost impossible.

I wanted to push the physicality of the balloon sculpture in a way I’d never done before. I drew inspiration from ukiyo-e images of samurai clashing with tigers, intertwining the two subjects in violence, hands grasping and claws slashing so deep that the two become one. I portrayed in Samson’s face, the rage and frustration I felt pent up over so many years, being released with the urgency and determination of a warrior assured that the fight is already his.

This first part in the series was finished and photographed a while ago in private, now being used as marketing material to promote my upcoming exhibition where I’ll be displaying the second painting and sculpture in the series. The next part, “Out Of The Strong, Something Sweet”, is an attempt to harmonize the darkest parts of my family legacy with the wonder and excitement, the joy and support I experienced throughout my upbringing in The Family International.

Please join me at The Jung Center of Houston, Texas for the exhibition, funded in part by Houston Mayor's Office of Cultural Affairs through Houston Arts Alliance, for the opening reception August 19th, 3pm to 6pm; and don’t miss my talk on the closing day, August 24th at 2pm to hear more about my art and journey.

[manesalex]

Every Alex Manes Scene (46a/?)

[yukipri]

Panther shapeshifter Otabek

from the YOI Wild Beasts AU

He’s a melanistic jaguar, and though he looks completely black in panther form, you can see his spots flicker across his skin when he’s human. ^ ^ Which, doesn’t happen too often, as Beka tends to prefer remaining in panther form.

(first comic HERE)

~~

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, EDIT, TRANSLATE, OR OTHERWISE USE MY ART. To share, please reblog!More detailed rules available on my Rules & FAQ Post.

~~

MORE OF MY YOI ART HERE.

[rere-the-writer]

Can I request a imagine where the Mikaelsons trust the human!reader and they are close. And the enemies of the Mikaelsons compelled the reader to harm the Mikaelsons? Or anyone of the Mikaelsons if it’s not possible to write all of them

Yes I love this. I'mma make poly!Mikaelson just to make it more sad.

Warnings: Angst, violence, Fluff at the end

It was no secret to those around the Mikaelsons that they had a human they held close to them. You were the Mikaelson's human as what the vampires knew you as due to there was always at least one Mikaelson with you.

"Rebekah, I'll be fine. I am just going to be studying." You tell the blonde vampire who was clinging to you as you were getting ready to head to the library to study.

"I know....stay in my room tonight?" Rebekah asked gently cupping your cheek making you blush brightly. The siblings always knew how to make you blush as they found it cute.

"Y....yeah." You said as Rebekah brushed her lips against yours before letting you go. You spent a good hour studying for your history paper. You got up to head home when you were attacked by someone.

"Damon?!" You gasped out when you stabbed him in abdomen with the wooden stake from your bag. You struggle when Caroline held you as Damon pulled out the stake.

"What are you....." You cut off when Damon grabbed your chin tearing off the vervain necklace around your neck.

"You are going to take this white oak and kill the Mikaelsons. Once they are killed you will forget this happen." Damon compelled you as you stopped struggling. Caroline let you go as you repeat what Damon said then both left watching you blink.

You stepped in the house dropping your bag after pulling out the white oak seeing Elijah ready to kill him. Elijah was quick to grab your wrist spinning you pulling you back against his chest as Klaus and Kol came walking down.

"Elijah?" Kol asked seeing you struggling against the older Mikaelson trying to get free and Elijah hissed feeling the stake stab his leg.

"Something is wo......" Elijah was cut off when you managed to hit Elijah's chin just right snapping his neck. Klaus pushed Kol out of the way when you attacked them ready to stab the with the white oak.

"Where the hell did she get the white oak?!" Kol yelled grabbing you holding your wrist behind your back after getting you to drop the white oak. You were lashing against Kol trying to get free when Rebekah came down.

"What is happening?!" Rebekah asked seeing Elijah laying dead on the ground, you being held by Kol struggling to get freed as Klaus picked up the white oak.

"Our dear Y/N is trying to kill us." Klaus answered as you growled trying to kick Kol's ankle. Rebekah frowned as it didn't sound like you then spotted your vervain necklace was missing.

"Her necklace is gone." Rebekah pointed out getting her brother's attention. Klaus growled as he thought over who could have touched you.

"Those Salvatores."

"Fuck." Kol cursed when you bit him trying to get free as Klaus walked over gripping your chin.

"One of them compelled her."

"Then undo it." Rebekah said as Klaus made you look at him. Klaus felt his heart break seeing such hate for him in your gorgeous eyes.

"Whatever compulsion you are under as been lifted. Remember who are." Klaus says compelling you let go of your chin falling limp against Kol breathing heavy as your whole body had been tensed and now relaxed. Their hearts broke seeing a tear roll down your cheek as your remembered what happen.

"I'm sorry." You choked out pushing away from Kol as you couldn't bring yourself to look at Elijah or the others.

"Darling it wasn't your fault." Kol whispered but you pulled away not wanting to be touched. They watched as you hurried up to your room tears falling down your face.

Elijah woke coughing rolling onto his side his ears picking up on Klaus pacing in the den ranting. Elijah could hear that Rebekah and Kol was with him then his thoughts went to you.

"How long?" Elijah croaked out getting the other's attention seeing him limping in. Elijah's leg was slowly healing and Rebekah rushed helping him to sit on the couch.

"You were out for three hours. Y/N is up in her bedroom has been crying since then." Kol answers as Elijah looked at the white oak on the coffee table.

"Where did she get the oak?"

"Salvatores." Klaus growled then the four stopped hearing you and looked seeing you wrapped up in your duvet eye red and puffy. Elijah open his arms as a silent invitation to climb into his arms and you were quick to get into his arms.

"I don't blame you baby." Elijah says softly as you buried your face in his neck and Rebekah came sitting next to Elijah laying her head on the back of your shoulder.

"But I hurt you and tried to kill you all." You said nearly sobbing as Klaus growled getting angry.

"Love, Damon compelled you. It wasn't your fault." Klaus tells you leaning over kissing your head. You let out a quiet okay as Kol and Klaus got up to head for the Salvatore home.

"Kol....Klaus?" You muttered sleepy feeling Klaus moving behind you as you were laying on Elijah with Rebekah on his other side. Kol flopped down next to Rebekah.

"Go back to sleep darling." Kol whispered leaning over kissing your cheek as you nodded relaxing against Elijah.

"You didn't kill...them did you?"

"No but we made it hurt." Klaus said kissing your head as Rebekah opened an eye snuggling into Elijah's side.

"Will you two shut up."

"Sorry Beka." You muttered as you all relaxed falling asleep making you feel safe and sound knowing that they'll kept safe.

[l-r-christian]

Title: Tied to one

Part two- coming soon

Pairings: Poly!Mikaelsons x Black!Witch!Reader

Summary: A string is tied to the pinky of every person to find their soulmate if it be platonic or lovers. The string would change color depending on the soulmate's favorite colors so for the longest time the Mikaelsons string stayed golden. So happens when it bursts into a wild fire of colors.

Warnings: Fluff, A bit Smutty in future parts, Over protective Mikaelsons, Reader being a shy little bean, Soft!Mikaelsons

A/N: An idea popped in my head so I rolled with it. I have thought this beautiful love child would be about 12 parts. This place just after Hope was brought home and I refuse to allow Kol to be killed.

After being alive for over a millennium, Klaus and Kol gave up on waiting for their soulmate and Elijah was losing hope while Rebekah held on the romantic notion that she'll find hers. But the one thing the four knew was that they shared a soulmate and came to terms with years ago. Esther tried fixing it believing it was unbalanced and Mikael blamed Klaus.

Rebekah was the first to notice the burst of color the that was othe string and at first she thought it was Kol but his string was a calm blue with bits of soft green and orange breaking though every once in awhile. Elijah's was always muted navy blue or white bits of forest green speckled in while Klaus was always a fiery red with yellow and a lovely shade of green breaking though every once in awhile.

Rebekah watched the string seeing that the colors of their soulmate loved pastels colors and with that Rebekah decided to follow the string to find the soulmate.

"Going somewhere Rebekah."

"I am don't wait up 'Lijah." Rebekah said leaving making the vampire raise an eyebrow wondering just when the blonde was up to.

Y/N L/N was an an old school witch moving from California to New Orleans. After many warnings from her grandmother to not join any coven as the older witch believed in old practices of magic.

Y/N stop at a bar called Rousseau's for a drink of water not knowing one of her soulmates was in the bar. Rebekah sucked in breath seeing Y/N walking in to the bar as one word echoed though the blonde Original's head....soulmate.

Y/N was gorgeous, dressed in a beautiful flowy sundress with long black hair being pushed back by a pastel pink headband. The young woman had sat down and Rebekah shook off the nerves then walked over to the woman.

"Hello." Rebekah said watching Y/N jump startled then flushed when she saw Rebekah's string on her pinky.

"Hi." Y/N said as Rebekah sat next to her smiling.

"I'm Rebekah Mikaelson."

"I'm Y/N L/N." Y/N said getting shy as she tucked a piece on hair behind her ear as she wasn't aware how adorable it made her look to Rebekah.

"It has been awhile since I had been around an old school witch." Rebekah said with a smile on her lips as she and Y/N shared drinks bonding.

"Oh, what were they like?"

"Every sweet, they're magic was something to be seen." Rebekah says paying for their drinks and the two decided to take a walk.

"I am not surprised my soulmates are vampires." Y/N tells Rebekah who blinked looking at the witch.

"Why?"

"My father is vampire. So I am used to vampires. " Y/N answered Rebekah as they walked the a park. Rebekah had lost track on of time as she spent the whole night with Y/N as she wanted to learn so much of her soulmate that she shared with her brothers.

"You like a lot pastel colors. It's adorable." Rebekah whispered laying next to Y/N both of them watching the colors dance and mix on the soul string. Y/N felt her cheeks warm as Rebekah laced her fingers with the witch's fingers making the vampire smile when the witch move closer.

"Our sister is hiding something from us." Klaus said making Elijah sigh looking up from his book along with Kol who rolled his eyes.

"Thinking Rebekah is plotting something against you?"

"You know our sister 'Lijah. Rebekah has been happier and leaving a lot." Klaus said pacing as Elijah closed his book looking at Kol who blinked. Elijah had noticed that Rebekah was more agreeable lately and seemly leaving.

"You live here?" They hear a softly voice ask when they looked seeing a woman walking with Rebekah who's arm was looped though hers. The boys breathing hitched as the sun light hit the young woman just right giving her mocha skin a glow.

"Yes, I'm sure you can feel the magic."

"Yeah. It's...comforting." She tells Rebekah flushing when Rebekah kissed her forehead.

"Who is your friend Rebekah?" Kol asked as Rebekah and the witch looked at the other Originals walking over.

"Our soulmate, Y/N L/N." Rebekah said smirking happy to have an one up over her brothers. Y/N moved closer to Rebekah feeling a little shy as they looked at there strings seeing it leading to the witch.

"I'm Elijah. I must say you are just gorgeous." Elijah says kissing Y/N's hand making her heart race as she felt her cheeks warm.

"I'm Kol the better one though I find it unfair you were selfish Beka." Kol teased as Rebekah pulled their soulmate closer to her.

"I'm Niklaus please call me Nik." Klaus said smirking as Y/N smiled at them and they swore the air was knocked out of them.

"Nice to finally meet you." As those words left Y/N's lips, the Mikaelsons swore to protect their little soulmate. Y/N got to know the brothers that night and when she went to bed with Rebekah. Kol had slipped in behind Y/N as the witch cuddled Rebekah which both didn't mind and Klaus followed after with Elijah enjoying having their soulmate finally.

[shmaptainwrites]

I Bless the Rains [Aaron Hotchner]

Pairings: Aaron Hotchner x fem!Reader

Characters: Aaron Hotchner, Jack Garett, Mateo Cruz, Penelope Garcia, Derek Morgan, Jennifer "JJ" Jareau, Alex Blake, David Rossi, Spencer Reid

Words: 10.1K

Summary: A gut feeling leads you to believe you have an American serial killer on your home turf and after months of fighting to get foreign assistance you don't expect to fall for their team leader

Warnings: blood, angst, general criminal minds level violence, minor character death, grieving, sadness

A/N: I told you guys I was gonna do it, what did I say! I wanted to be inclusive of all races in this fic so I made reader as neutral as possible <3 [Also any and ALL painful experiences should be blamed on Linds she came up with all the angst for this fic and then proofread it so thank you babes mwuah]

Africa | Toto

GIF by @dudeitiskarev photos belong to me, header made by me

September 2nd | Washington, D.C.

After a long sigh, you looked at the glass filled with amber liquid in front of you. It had been a long few months, to say the least.

Your phone buzzed and you pulled it out of your pocket, heart pounding with some sort of expectation, but slowed immediately once you saw who had sent it.

Jack Garett: Looking forward to hearing back about your decision

You ignored it for now. Your decision was quite clear. You were sitting in an airport waiting for your flight to get in from Germany to take you back home to Addis.

It seemed your sorrow had attracted the attention of an older woman, probably more so around the age of your mother if not a bit older. She came to join you up at the bar counter and motioned for the bartender to refill her glass of wine. The airport back home was definitely different from this one, but you were grateful for its amenities, you could use them right now, but another part of you just wanted to be back.

“Something seems to have gotten you down honey,” the woman said and you turned to her, your lips pulling into a half smile, but you didn’t really mean it.

“A lot of things,” you responded.

“A lot of things,” she hummed and looked around for a moment while you stared back down at your glass. “When’s your flight sweetheart?”

You lifted your watch to check the time, thankful that the new digital one you had managed to purchase switched automatically with the time zones along with your phone.

“About five hours,”

“Then we have plenty of time,” she said, arms folded in front of her, “You look like you could use someone to talk to,”

And for once in this hell that had been five months you thought someone had come up with a good idea.

“Where do you want me to start?” you asked. “Because it’s a little complicated,”

“Boy complicated?” she raised a brow and sipped her glass of red.

“Everything complicated,”

“Then start at the beginning,” she instructed. “My flight doesn’t leave for six hours so I got even more time than you,”

You chuckled a little at that and swirled your drink in your cup.

“Well, if I had to start at the beginning, that would probably have to be mid-April…”

. . .

April 19th | Addis Ababa, Ethiopia

“Sir, I’m telling you these two crimes are connected,” you pressed, looking up at your boss and pointing to the two files.

“Beka, Enough,” the Chief Inspector waved his hand dismissively at you. Something you were used to at this point, being a woman in law enforcement, but this time it really pissed you off. “There’s no evidence to connect the two, how can you determine if a crime is connected when there is no evidence,”

“Sir, look at the way they were killed, it makes sense, no? And I have a theory, what if this murderer is American, you see not only the weapon that was used but even though there was no DNA on the cigarette butts we found out they’re a specific brand that’s quite popular in the U.S.”

“(Y/N), you need to step back, there is no connection,” he pressed.

“I just need a small team-,”

“No, we’re not allocating officers to follow a dead-end theory,” he insisted.

“Then what if I got outside help,” you said.

The Chief almost laughed.

“Good luck with that,”

And you took that response as a challenge. It was true at the moment you didn’t have enough to present a case to a team that could come and aid you from elsewhere, but given time, hard work, and determination you’d get there… eventually.

Your biggest hurdle was critical forensic evidence. It seemed the killer was ten steps ahead, planning his murders around the weather, waiting for the rain to come and wash away any trace of him being there. But you saw him, even if no one else did. You knew he was out there.

You wished desperately that you weren’t the only one burdened with truth, but sometimes politics, bureaucracy, and arrogance would make that the case.

As April slowly melted into May and there hadn’t been another death to report, you gave your brain a break and decided to do some research into possible foreign aid that could come and aid your investigation. The logical first place to look was the States, you had a theory after all, and your theory came with a deep gut feeling like you’d never had.

You saw that there was a division of the FBI that dealt with foreign violent crimes involving American victims and criminals so your first step was finding the email of the team leader, Jack Garett, and writing him a lengthy letter asking for his team’s assistance.

Jack got back to you faster than you expected, but unfortunately, it wasn’t bearing the best of news. Currently, the case didn’t have nearly enough evidence to pull an entire team from the States and bring them over, that part was out of his hands, but he instructed you to keep him notified on every development because he believed you. That was a first. And as much as it pained you to wait, the two cases lying on your desk would provide no new information for you. There was nothing you could do but sit and watch the clock slowly tick away.

—

June 3rd | Addis Ababa, Ethiopia

“Ishi, Okay, Louam, take the night off,” you insisted, “Go home to your family,”

“Are you sure it’s okay? You don’t need anything else, Miss?”

“I’ll be fine,” you assured. “And the merek was delicious, after all the rain I really needed that,”

“I thought you loved the rain,” she noted, fixing the scarf in her hair and grabbing her jacket.

“I do, but it’s still nice to have a warm meal on a rainy day,”

She nodded in agreement and wished you goodnight before walking out of your front door, leaving you to sit in front of your beef, carrot, and potato soup, alone. Just like every other night.

But when the silence became deafening you noticed it was because it stopped raining. Maybe that was a good sign?

You’d never hoped more for a drought.

Feeling full, you packed away the rest of your food and went to get changed and ready for bed.

As soon as your head hit the pillow you were out like a light, not waking up until the next day when you could hear both the Muslim and Christian call to prayer over loudspeakers.

The chanting was something that reminded you, you were home and each time you travelled west your heart ached a little, missing the sound each morning.

Only this time, the chants were accompanied by the sound of your phone chiming and you frowned lifting it up to your ear.

One of the constables aware of your investigation had spotted another body, and even though it rained last night since it had stopped it was not enough to wash away the evidence completely.

You didn’t think you’d ever gotten ready faster in your life, heading over so you could make sure the crime scene techs could accurately collect the evidence you needed. This is what was going to bring Jack’s team here, or so you thought.

After running your own tests the evidence had to be carefully mailed to D.C. so that they could verify your results and even after that was done, it was a process of cutting through red tape to get them here.

You had gotten used to the text messages from Jack in the late hours of the evening or early hours of the morning saying,

Jack Garett: Still pushing to get the okay to come, consulting’s with both governments, Lily is on it

But it seemed like it was never bound to happen and even with DNA, confirming your initial suspicions of an American suspect there were still a decent amount of Americans in Addis. It didn’t help you in any way, aside from being the proof you needed to get help, and even that angle wasn’t turning out the way you wanted it to.

So it was back to burning a hole through your desk trying to make any sort of connection between, now five, murders.

How many more people had to die before you could get to this killer? You wished it was none, but at the rate things were going, and with the change in season, you had a feeling the number would be just the opposite.

—

July 2nd | Washington, D.C.

Agent Aaron Hotchner really thought that these next few months would be the most relaxing of his career. It was summer, he was going to spend time with his son, take a few days off, maybe even go on vacation, but the minute Jack Garett and Mateo Cruz added him to a conference call, he had a feeling that wasn’t going to be the case anymore.

“We’d go ourselves but we’re tied up in Portugal right now. It’s been a hell of a ride to get permission to go there on both ends, Aaron I really need someone on this,” Jack had said. “She’s an amazing investigator and I trust her gut, can you take your team to her?”

“What about our incoming cases?” he asked. “Who takes care of that?”

“We will, along with your lower-level agents and some of the profiling teachers,” he explained. “I’ve already called in a few favours with Easter and Prentiss, they can temporarily spare some of their own Interpol profilers for this,”

“Hotch, Jack’s got a big feeling about this one, I think you should go,” Cruz chimed in. “Can your team be ready to leave by tomorrow?”

“I’m guessing we’re going to need something bigger than a go-bag,” he sighed.

After the call finished up he rounded his team together.

Derek, Penelope, JJ, Alex, Spencer, and Dave.

He explained to them the situation, saying they’d be taking on this case as a favour to Jack and his team, along with their Section Chief.

“From our conversation, it seems like there is a legitimate serial killer, and since evidence has been scarce, but enough to tie the crimes together, they figured a profile would be one of the best ways to get him,”

“And you’re sure the unsub is American?” Dave asked.

“Yes, they’ve done a genealogy test to make sure,” Aaron nodded. “We’ve got about a day to pack and get things sorted. I think we can expect to be there for a while, and Garcia, you’re going to need to be with us on this one, the time difference won’t do you any good,”

Penelope nodded and the team was dismissed to take the day to get ready.

Aaron made some calls to take care of the work side of things before driving over to his apartment to speak with Jack and Jess about the situation.

They’d done it once and they could do it again, only this time, hopefully, he wouldn’t be gone for almost a year.

Jack, as usual, was very understanding and Jess was a superhero for being willing to stay with him until he got back.

The only thing Jack made him promise was to call every single day no matter what and to bring him back a little souvenir. Either way, this was bound to be an interesting case in a new and unfamiliar country.

—

July 5th | Addis Ababa, Ethiopia

The team arrived two days later on account of their travel time and time zones, they quickly checked in at the hotel and were informed by the Chief Inspector once they reached the precinct that you had gone out to investigate yet another murder.

Down at the crime scene, you stood outside in the pouring rain, barking orders in Amharic at the techs.

Rain. You used to like the rain. But after everything that had happened you weren’t sure you’d ever be able to look at it the same.

As part of the BAU team pulled up to the scene, you had your back turned to the streets, not noticing their presence.

The air was tense around you and they could sense that, but Aaron was the one to make the first contact.

Your hands were up in your hair, a lump in your throat, things had happened so fast you could barely process what was going on, and when a hand came and touched your shoulder you jumped.

“Woah, hey, are you alright?”

When you turned around he noticed the large red bloodstain on your white button-up.

“Y-Yes, I’m fine,” you waved off your jumpy behaviour hoping he wouldn’t question you too much more. “You must be Agent Hotchner, Jack told me about you,”

“Yes and you’re Inspector (L/N),” he said. “Can you tell me what happened?” he asked.

“We…um, we had thought someone reported a murder but when we arrived at the scene the victim was still alive and had multiple gunshot wounds and I uh-,” you looked down at your shirt and bloodied hands.

“Do you need a moment maybe?” he asked. “We can take care of the scene if you want to go clean up and we can meet at the precinct,”

“No, no, I’m fine,” you shook your head, taking a deep breath. “She’s gonna make it, I’m fine,”

You wrung your hands together and looked over his shoulder seeing the rest of the agents that had come with him.

“Is that some of your team?”

“Yeah, there’s a few of us at the precinct but we heard you’ve fought long and hard to get people over here,”

“My superiors don’t think we have a serial killer on the loose,”

Aaron had had his fair share of uphill battles, he was sympathetic to your efforts.

“I’ve looked over the case details, so have the other agents with me, we believe you,”

And that was all you needed.

Aaron introduced you to the rest of the team that was there, agents Morgan, Blake, and Jareau, and it was soon you realized that maybe things had worked out to your benefit. The BAU was a team of world-renowned profilers, and here you had a killer that was showing you behaviour and nothing else. If anyone would be able to tell what was going on it was them.

After the crime scene was taken care of and they got a sense of what the circumstances were, you all headed back to the EFP, Ethiopian Federal Police, building.

You led the team to a conference room where they could start working on victimology and you took a moment to step aside and clean yourself up.

Looking at yourself in the mirror you realized why you’d caused such concern to the agent. The whole front of your shirt was soaked in blood and your hands stained red. The small amount of makeup you had decided to put on was running down your face, and you couldn’t tell if it was from the rain or the few tears you had shed after the ambulance came and took the victim to the hospital for intensive surgery.

You grabbed a change of clothes from your locker and scrubbed your hands raw until the blood finally came off, cleaning your face with your now tender hands.

Once you felt a little refreshed, pushing back your feelings for a later date, you came back out to the conference room and saw two of the BAU agents quietly arguing with the Chief Inspector.

“Sir, can I help you?” you asked, stepping in, ready to defend the team.

“What are they doing here? They have no jurisdiction,”

“Actually they do,” you said flatly. “You never said I wasn’t able to go and get foreign help and after many long talks with the Deputy Commissioner and Commissioner we decided that it was in the best interest of the city to have their help. So if allocating conference room space is still too much, sir, why don’t you take it up with your boss’s boss’s boss,”

That seemed to shut him up which was a good thing because you were at your wit’s end with everything and things had just started to be put in motion. Once he left, you turned to the team and apologized.

“I’m so sorry about him,” you said. “Majority of the people here don’t want to believe we have an American serial killer on the loose. That’s just harder to explain to everyone than random one-off murders that end up with dead-end leads,”

“Don’t worry about it,” Derek responded. “It’s not the worst greeting we’ve gotten,”

“Have you um,” you lifted your hand to scratch behind your ear, crossing your arms over your chest. “put together anything based on the victims? We have some limited technological resources so Miss Garcia your help is much appreciated,”

“Oh, ain’t no thing but a chicken wing,”

You stared at her curiously, unfamiliar with the expression and she chuckled with a small blush before saying it was no problem.

“We’ve found a few connections,” Alex started to answer your question and you listened attentively to her. “Mainly that each victim had ties to the U.S. somehow,”

“So through work, relationships, relatives,” you listed and they nodded.

“The way this unsub is operating-,”

You quickly put out your hand interrupting Dave, Agent Rossi, to ask a question.

“An unsub is?”

“Unknown Subject or in this case the killer,” he explained and you nodded. “But he’s operating in a way where he knows he’s toying with the police, he’s very well thought out and picking a lot of high-risk victims which tells us he’s incredibly organized, manipulative, and sadistic,”

“So he’s getting off on the taunting and the torture?”

The team nodded.

They took you through their process of behavioural science analysis or profiling, and the minute you understood how it worked you realized it would be a key tool in the investigation, but there was still no telling how far that would take you. You’d need him to get cocky, slip up, or there was a chance you’d never know the man behind all these heinous crimes.

—

July 14th | Addis Ababa, Ethiopia

As the case progressed, the media caught wind of the presence of American law enforcement and it seemed to be the story of the year. Your boss was not pleased and used it as a chance to take a dig at you each time you walked into the office.

The killer hadn’t struck again since his initial failure, and you assumed he took a bit of a blow to his ego.

“Have we looked at the missing person angle?” JJ asked and Derek sighed, nodding his head.

“He takes them and kills them within twelve hours, most people don’t even notice someone’s missing in that time, especially on a workday,”

You walked into the conference room with a few bags of what you liked to call your favourite pick-me-up, hoping it might be a good way to lift some people’s spirits and, if not, at least make sure they were well fed.

Pulling out a large circular tray and from one of the bags the traditional Ethiopian flatbread, injera, you laid one piece on the tray before moving on to the sauces and meat sides, pouring them around until the whole tray was covered in an assortment of them, with a specific vegetarian section for Penelope.

“What’s this?” Dave was the one to venture and ask.

“I’m surprised, you guys live in D.C. and haven’t tried Ethiopian food yet?” you chuckled. “A little birdie told me you’ve been getting room service so I thought it might be a nice change of pace to eat together,” you suggested. “Have any of you tried it before?”

You looked around the small group and saw one head nod,

“I used to get it once a month when I was in college,” Aaron shared. “But my favourite restaurant closed down and it felt wrong to eat it anywhere else,”

“Well then you can help me teach everyone how this works,” you motioned for them all to sit around the tray pointing to a certain seat for Penelope which made her smile widely and say thank you.

“So you take the injera and tear it and then use it to grab whichever sauce you’d like and eat it,”

You also pointed out which dishes were spicy and which were milder along with the different meats used in various sauces.

Your idea seemed to have worked because everyone was chatting, catching up about what was going on at home while they were halfway across the world.

JJ’s son’s birthday was coming up and she was planning to video call to visit on that day; Derek’s girlfriend was a surgeon at one of the hospitals and tended to be extremely busy but they still found time to talk; even Aaron called to catch up with his son each night, it was sweet. You’d seen him do it each time he left the precinct, almost as late as you.

And like clockwork, after everyone had decided to head home that night, you stood outside the large headquarters and took in the crisp night air.

Aaron walked out a short while after, his phone pressed to his ear, but when he saw you he quickly wrapped it up with Jack, saying I love you and wishing him a good rest of his day before hanging up and slipping his phone in his pocket.

He came and stood next to you, looking out at the same view you were before asking.

“Something on your mind?”

You sighed looking down at your feet, fingers twiddling before you shrugged.

“I just feel bad,” you admitted. “I pulled you all away from your families for God knows how long and we’re not even getting anywhere with this,”

“Inspector-,”

“Please, just (Y/N),” you interrupted him. Each time you heard that title you worked so hard for, all that rang through your head was the condescending voice of your superior officer.

“(Y/N), my team had the choice to come here, we could have said no, but Jack believed you and so do we,” Aaron paused for a moment. “But that’s not the problem is it,”

“You know it would be handy to have a rule not to profile people outside of the case,” you hummed and he apologized with a very faint chuckle.

“We normally do, among the team, I guess I just slipped up,”

“If you’re going to profile me why not go all the way, might as well,” you tapped the railing with your fingers and Aaron stood up straight, looking at the traffic in front of him.

“You’re not worried about your career, otherwise you’d be pushing for an arrest, acting irrationally, you’ve got a good head on your shoulders,”

“Mhmm,” you nodded, getting him to continue.

“You’re worried about more victims, but that’s still not it, it’s deeper than that, more personal. If it was just general worry you’d be fiddling with your sleeves, but you’ve been picking at your cuticles,” he pointed out and you stopped doing what you were doing.

“You noticed that?”

“It’s my job to notice that,” he said simply and now you were tugging at your sleeves. It was like a twitch you couldn’t control. “You promised the victim we’d find him,” he settled on and you nodded your head.

“Her name’s Fikir,” you said quietly. “It means love,” you paused before continuing. “She almost died in my arms. I thought it was the least I owed her,”

“We’re good at what we do (Y/N),” Aaron assured. “We’re going to find him,”

“I really do hope so,”

—

July 27th | Addis Ababa, Ethiopia

It took almost another two weeks for the unsub to strike again, this time bigger and bolder than before. The victim was a security guard outside of the American Embassy and he wasn’t subtle about it either.

The guard hadn’t shown up for his shift and so they called in for a replacement. At the end of said shift, during the switch, the unsub disposed of the body, right where everyone could see, but he was getting a little too full of himself because as soon as the other guards saw their deceased colleague they quickly covered the crime scene from the oncoming rain and preserved some of the evidence before calling the police.

You were woken up in the middle of the night by the notification and made a quick call to Aaron so he could tell the team.

“Right outside the embassy?”

“Yeah, isn’t that what you call devolving? It’s like he wants to get caught,” you noted.

“Let’s hope he is because it��s our best chance of catching him. We’ll meet you at the crime scene,”

“Copy that,” you nodded and hung up the phone.

Once you had arrived at the scene, techs had already gathered some new pieces of evidence along with the guards and a few witnesses. You divided up tasks, taking a chance to speak with the people who saw something and for the first time in, well, ever, you had a break in the case. A description of the man who disposed of the body and this was victim number six.

And then again for a moment, the rain didn’t feel like small piercing knives against your skin, you welcomed the fresh feeling, letting it wake you, your mind racing with possibilities.

After a very productive day at work, you stayed in late at the precinct, continuing to go through files, trying to match a face to a name, coming up rather unsuccessfully for the most part. However that was on you, you needed to remember to get Penelope to put it through your database.

“I brought coffee,”

You looked up at the sound, a deep calm monotone you’d grown to recognize.

“I was going to grab some for myself and figured you could use some as well,”

“Thank you,” you smiled, taking the cup from his hands and placing it on the table in front of you before sighing deeply. “You know, you should keep your murderers in your own country,” you sent Aaron a cheeky glance and he rolled his eyes a little before saying.

“We’ve got too many. Sometimes you guys have to help us lighten the load,”

That earned a little giggle from you as you picked up your coffee and sipped it.

“I’m by no means a coffee connoisseur,” Aaron started. “But I’ve had my fair share of crappy coffee and this is not that,”

“Well, every country’s gotta be good and bad at something,” you shrugged. “You’ll have to buy some beans to take home with you,”

“I think I will,” he nodded in agreement before opening one of the files and reading through its details.

Neither of you were Spencer Reid, that was plain and obvious, but they were embassy files and you needed to get through them at some point, it was possible they were relevant and they just kept pouring in by the dozen.

Partway through the night of reading and quiet chatting along with a few joking comments made here or there regarding outrageous things in your readings, Aaron’s phone buzzed and he looked down at the caller ID before looking up at you,

“Sorry I have to take this, do you mind if I-,”

“Oh not at all, stay here,” you nodded.

He answered the call with a small smile on his face as he waved to the screen.

“Hey, Jess,”

“Aaron, Jack’s been bugging me non-stop to talk with you,” a female voice laughed on the other end. “I told him it was late but he said-,”

“Dad’s gonna be up! And I was right!” Jack’s voice rang through as he pulled the phone away from his aunt to say hi.

Aaron chatted with them for a bit before they had to go out and run some errands and you smiled fondly at the sound of the happy family.

Once he hung up the phone you looked up at him.

“Your wife and son?” you asked.

“Oh, no,” he chuckled. “It’s my sister-in-law,” he explained. “My wife passed away a few years ago,”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” you said softly. “But it’s good you have a support system, that’s important,”

“Yeah, I think so too,” he agreed. “But I also think that if we want to show up tomorrow at all we might want to head out and get some sleep,”

“I think you’re very right,” you nodded with a small laugh, packing up your things and getting ready to head out and call a taxi to take you home.

For once, heading out of the precinct, you felt like you had accomplished something.

—

July 29th | Addis Ababa, Ethiopia

“Okay, I’m calling it,” you sighed, dropping your papers. “We need a break,” you pointed to yourself then Aaron. “Everyone else went out for lunch, we should get some food too,”

Aaron spent a moment looking at his files before nodding his head, agreeing with you.

“There’s a street with some vendors close by, we can get something there maybe?” you suggested.

“Whatever you think is best,”

And before you knew it the two of you were standing in front of a vendor, bargaining for a better price on the food he was selling and finally settling on something you could both agree was fair.

As you and Aaron walked down the busy street, eating your food, he noticed the small shops that carried souvenir-like things for travellers and he immediately thought of Jack.

“Do you think we could stop by a few of these stands?” he asked. “I promised my son, Jack, I’d get him a little gift and I want to bring back something for Jess too,”

“For sure,” you nodded. “Do you know what he wants?”

“He didn’t say anything specific,” Aaron shrugged. “But I think he’d like something like this,” Aaron picked up a soccer ball that was decorated with the Ethiopian flag colours.

“Does he play?” you asked, pointing to the ball and Aaron nodded.

“Yeah, I coached his team when he was younger, but now that they’ve moved up in the division it’s not volunteer coach anymore,”

“But you still go out and play with him on occasion?” you raised a brow and he nodded, impressed.

“And how did you figure that one out?”

“You walk with a very slight limp, I’m assuming it’s an ankle injury? But it seems like more of a recurring thing than a field injury,”

“Maybe you should have my job,” he joked and you chuckled a little.

You browsed a little more, unable to find something suitable for Jess when a lightbulb clicked in your brain.

“There’s a store close by that makes traditional scarves,” you told Aaron. “They’re like this white cotton with one coloured accent and they can be used for anything really,”

“That would be perfect,” he nodded. “She’d love that, I’m sure,”

When you came back into the office with bags the rest of the team seemed to be curious what their contents were, Aaron explained while sending a few glances over your way and you tried not to look so small under his gaze.

But then, focusing back on the case, Penelope informed you she had her computers running through the police sketch on the Ethiopian database.

“It might be a good idea to put it in the American one too,” Spencer noted. “Just any sort of facial recognition,”

“You’ve got it, pretty boy,” she nodded.

“In the meantime, we still have all these files to go through,” you pointed to the table. “At least they’re…somewhat organized,”

The rest of the team sighed and nodded, each taking a pile for themselves. If the last few months had been long? These next few days we’re going to be even longer.

—

August 3rd | Addis Ababa, Ethiopia

Your phone buzzed for what seemed like the twentieth time in fifteen minutes and you flipped it on your desk, trying to focus on what was in front of you. Yes you were working overtime and technically it didn’t matter, but you needed to save your brainpower for all the searching you were doing.

When your phone buzzed again and you decided to look at it this time you let out a small chuckle.

“Boyfriend?” Aaron asked and you shook your head.

“Nah, just my sister,” you quickly rolled your eyes and corrected yourself. “Not my actual sister, more like my best friend, we grew up together,” you explained.

“I see, is she trying to get a hold of you? Cause you can step aside and call her if you need to,”

“No, she’s trying to drag me out to go dancing tonight. She says I’ve been working too hard lately and need to let loose for a night,”

“I’d say you’re probably the person who is the second least likely to go do that,”

“Really? Only second?” you chuckled, resting your elbow on the table and putting your chin in your hand.

“Yes, I’m first and you can't take that away from me,”

That made you laugh while your phone buzzed again and you finally picked it up, responding to her spam messages that you wouldn’t be going out tonight.

Her response was pretty clear,

Zewditu: If you’re not coming I’m going to give you a play by play of what’s happening here

You: Zed, I’m at work, my phone is going to buzz itself off the desk

Zewditu: That was your own choice

You rolled your eyes again and kept your phone face up on the table this time so you could see her updates as they rolled in.

At first, they seemed to be standard, just her getting drinks, enjoying the live music, dancing, but then you got a feeling in your stomach, something felt off.

And just as that feeling came, so did another text,

Zewditu: Guess who I met?

Zewditu: This cute American guy, I’m telling you I’m gonna drink for free the rest of the night

As much as you wanted to believe it was just another traveller, or maybe someone who had moved here from the States, but that wasn’t a chance you wanted to take.

You: Zed, please be careful

You: Stay in crowded spaces with him, keep an eye on your drink and don’t go home with him

Zewditu: Relax (N/N), I’ll be fine, trust me

It wasn’t a lack of trust in her, right now, she was all you had, you had to keep her safe. And so like you said, you loosened the leash so to speak, checking in on her to make sure she was still at the bar.

“Everything alright, (Y/N)?” Aaron asked. “You seem a little tense,”

You sighed, wringing your hands together,

“It’s just Zed, she’s hanging out with some American she just met at the bar and just under the circumstances I don’t want to look back and regret that I didn’t say something,”

“Did you say something?” he asked.

“Yeah, in the way she understands, she knows I’m just looking out for her well-being. Now let’s just hope that she listens,”

You should have figured that was too much to ask. Not even an hour later you received another text from her.

Zewditu: Sorry (N/N), taking this one home tonight

And that was enough to drop a lead anvil right clear in your stomach. The colour had drained from your face and Aaron noticed it immediately.

“(Y/N)?”

“She’s taking him home,” you whispered. “Why is she taking him home, I told her not to. What if something happens?”

You didn’t even know who she was with and you were already spiralling.

“Hey, hey, this can wait,” Aaron motioned to the reading in front of you. “Why don’t you and I head over to her house and check the place out, make sure she’s actually alright,”

“If this is nothing she’s going to hate me,” you gulped.

“But she’ll understand,” Aaron assured. “Come on, I can drive if you just give me directions,”

Her home was in a different end of town than the police headquarters, but thank goodness traffic wasn’t stuffy. You gave Aaron directions trying to minimize showing how anxious you were in front of him. You stuck to playing with your sleeves and forced yourself not to wring your hands.

When he pulled into the gated community of homes, you directed him down the more narrow dirt roads until he reached the front of a small home where all the lights were off.

You got out of the car and walked up to the door, knocking on it before giving her some time to come answer it. When there was nothing you knocked again, this time louder, still nothing.

You looked over at Aaron, almost as if to ask if you were making the right call by going inside.

He nodded his head and you tried the door as it was, noticing it was unlocked.

“Zed!” you called. “Zed it’s-,”

When your head turned there was a loud scream caught in your throat.

“Zed?! Zed?!” you fell to your knees next to her and Aaron came rushing into the home, witnessing the sight before him.

Her eyes blinked, but as if they were in slow motion. You weren’t crying, but the fear that Aaron saw in your eyes was worse than tears.

She tried to open her mouth to speak but was unable to, even if you called paramedics there was no way they could get here in time to do anything to save her.

And yet you still found yourself pressing onto the wound on her stomach, whispering you were sorry in Amharic, over and over and over again.

You didn’t move, even when you saw the flashing lights come outside, only when Aaron’s hand came and gently grabbed your shoulder, peeling you away from your best friend’s, your sister’s, lifeless body.

And when you stepped outside, all you could feel was the rain. Tumbling down by the litre, like cold little icicles piercing your skin until you felt numb.

It washed the warm and wet blood from your hands, along with any faith you had left that this case wouldn’t eat you alive.

The voices around you were distorted, muffled sounding, and if you closed your eyes, even if just for a minute it all went away.

But when you felt warmth, warm hands holding both sides of your face your eyes opened, of their own accord, and right in front of you was Aaron. The voices came more into focus like you had just come up from being underwater and it was everything hitting you at once.

“Hey, (Y/N)? Are you with me?” he asked softly and you nodded your head, gently peeling his hands away from your face, but still grasping into his fingers. “I spoke with the officers, they're going to take our statements in the morning, okay?”

You nodded your head.

“Come on, let’s get you home,”

You turned around to look back, that was a mistake, through the small crack in the window you could see a white sheet, laid across the floor in the living room and your stomach tied itself in knots before Aaron noticed and gently coaxed your head to turn the other way.

When you got back into the car it was like you were in a whole different world, you wiped your face clean of the rain and took in a breath, pushing down every single negative emotion you were feeling.

Not yet

You wanted to wait, or better yet, to never feel that disgusting and terrible feeling.

So you calmly gave Aaron directions, and if he hadn’t just been standing next to you and witnessed your best friend dying in your arms he would think you were perfectly okay. No tells, nothing to suggest otherwise.

You pulled up in front of your small home and Aaron walked you to your front door, tapping his foot a few times on the ground while you worked on unlocking it.

“(Y/N), I uh- I don’t really feel comfortable leaving you here alone,” he said gently. “Maybe I could stay on your couch for the night? Just in case?”

“If you really want to,” you nodded. “Here let me go get some sheets,”

Now you had a task and you were going to focus all your energy on it. The sheets were in the closet like they usually were along with the blankets, you took them out and brought them over to the couch that Aaron was standing by and got them over the cushions a little aggressively, but without help, before laying the blanket nicely overtop.

Next, you had to find him a pillow and a pillowcase, but for some reason, you couldn’t find any such thing inside the house.

“Where the hell is these damn pillows,” you muttered, running through the house trying to find them. Now Aaron could see it, you were slowly slipping, getting angry at your furniture for not staying the same, clearly, it was a displacement of your grief.

So when you ran through the living room, he quickly grabbed onto your arms stopping you.

“Aaron, I need to find you a pillow,” you said.

“(Y/N), I don’t need a pillow,”

“But I need to find you one,” you begged, “Please, Aaron, please,”

Your lip was quivering now, the dam was breaking. Instead of holding you at an arm's length, he moved you into his embrace, wrapping his strong arms around you and that was the last straw.

Your cries were painful to hear because they carried so much grief and sadness. But most of all, guilt.

If you had gone out with her this never would have happened. The unsub wouldn’t have had his chance to get her alone and maybe you could have even convinced Zed of how dangerous he was.

But no, now you were left alone. She was the only family you had left and now she was gone.

Aaron’s hold on you was grounding. He took all of your weight in his arms and let you just get everything out, not caring that you were staining his suit with tears, but rather rubbing calm gentle patterns on your back to help your breathing, or at least that’s what you thought he was doing. It was something Zed had done to help you when you were anxious.

You weren’t sure when your legs moved you over to the couch, but they did, and you sat there, now silent tears streaming down your face while Aaron continued to hold you, not daring to let you go.

And in letting go of all that grief you became exhausted, and eventually, your sniffles turned quiet and you fell asleep to the sound of his beating heart and the rain crashing down outside.

—

September 2nd | Washington, D.C.

“Oh honey, I’m so sorry for your loss,” the woman said offering her condolences and you thanked her.

It had been almost two months but it was still fresh as snow on the White House lawn on Christmas morning.

“But this agent, he spent the night with you?” she asked and you nodded.

“We slept on the couch,” you explained. “I was just so exhausted I guess from crying I fell asleep in his arms and he held me until morning,”

“He seems like a real sweetheart,”

“He is,” you nodded. “And that next morning is when I realized maybe I didn’t just see him as another agent, as terribly corny as it sounds,”

“No, do tell, what was it?” she nodded for you to continue.

“I woke up before him,” you said. “At six o’clock in the morning. My arms were kind of pressed against his chest and when everything from the previous night came back to me I felt like I was going to spiral again, but then I just looked at him. He was so calm, just…existing. I don’t think I’d ever seen something that beautiful, something that made me feel like that kind of serenity existed in the world,”

“So what did you do?” she asked, a curious frown on her features.

“I pushed myself away. I couldn’t let myself ruin that,”

“And him?”

“He kept trying to come back,”

. . .

August 17th | Addis Ababa, Ethiopia

Aaron was done tiptoeing. Ever since he spent the night at your home you had been pushing him away. Acting cold towards him. At first, he was sympathetic, you had just lost your friend, but when he saw the rest of the team was not getting such treatment the gears started to turn in his head.

You paired up with Alex more, incredibly focused on the case but taking adequate time off instead of working at all hours of the day like you used to.

So one evening once everyone, including yourself, had gone back to their homes and hotels, Aaron drove down the busy streets, through rush hour traffic to get to your place.

When there was a knock on the door you didn’t expect his face to be the one you saw on the other side.

“Aaron, what are you doing here?” you asked.

Aaron was not very good at confrontation when it came to anything other than an unsub. Now that he was standing in front of you he wasn’t really sure what to say. He must have been standing silent long enough for you to say,

“Look, if it’s nothing I should probably get back insi-,”

“Wait,” he put his hand on the door to stop you from shutting it. “Why are you pushing me away,” he asked simply.

“Aaron, what are you talking about-,”

“Ever since that night, you haven’t stayed back late with me to canvas leads. You-You haven’t taken a cup of coffee from me, you haven’t…you don’t smile at anyone anymore,”

“I-I lost my sister, Aaron,” you whispered.

“I know, but I-n-never mind,” he shook his head. “But why have you been pushing away from me specifically?”

Now was as good of a chance as any to see if you were as good a liar as you thought.

“No one else saw me that vulnerable,” you said. “I was embarrassed and frustrated with myself,”

“(Y/N),”

“I’m sorry I pushed you away,” you said softly. “Honestly, I didn’t really realize you cared that much,”

Of course, I do

Is what he wanted to say, but he kept his mouth shut so he wouldn’t overstep.

“I-um I was just about to start a movie to wind down for the night, I don’t suppose you want to join me?”

Aaron looked down at his watch and nodded.

“I’d love that,”

You opened the door wider allowing him to come in and join you on the couch where you had the remote sitting on the armrest.

The silence was only slightly awkward but became comfortable when you started the movie, paying close attention to what was happening on the small screen.

Partway through the movie, you got a little cold and grabbed a blanket from one of the chairs and brought it back to the couch.

“You want some?” you asked Aaron who looked over to see what you were talking about.

“Sure,” it was a little chilly after all. So you scooted closer and draped the blanket over both of you, curling in a little further and trying your best to ignore your beating heart.

Before the movie reached its end you could feel Aaron’s phone buzz from his pocket and he slipped it out to check and see who was calling.

“I’m sorry, it’s Jack, can I take this?” he asked and you nodded.

“Of course,” you nodded, pausing the movie, “I can give you guys some privacy if you-,”

You were interrupted by the excited greetings of the young boy, waving to his dad.

“Hey dad!” he grinned.

“Hey buddy, can you just give me one sec?”

Jack nodded and Aaron turned over to you.

“You don’t have to leave,”

“Are you talking to Miss (Y/N)?” Jack asked. “Can I say hi?”

“Sure,” Aaron chuckled. “See, he even wants to talk to you,”

“Alright,” you agreed and let your lips curl up into the smallest smile, but it didn’t go unnoticed by Aaron. That was the first time he had seen that smile since August 3rd. “Hi Jack, how are you?”

“I’m good,” he nodded. “Aunt Jess is making me breakfast before I go to school,”

“Oh, what’s she making you?” you asked.

“Scrambled eggs,”

“Those are the best! I like them spicy though so sometimes I’ll put-,”

“Jalapeños,” Aaron interrupted and you nodded.

“Yeah,” you chuckled.

You and Jack chatted for a little bit and he asked you some questions before you decided to let him have the rest of the time to talk with his dad.

“Promise to be good for your auntie,” you said. “And study hard so you can be smarter than your dad, okay?”

“Deal,” he nodded and you waved goodbye to him before going to leave the room.

Faintly from the kitchen, you could hear Jack speak with Aaron while you grabbed a glass of water.

“I like her dad, she’s really nice and pretty,”

“I know buddy, I think so too,”

You could feel the heat rise to your cheeks, but as with your climbing heart rate, you attempted to ignore it for the rest of the day.

—

August 19th | Addis Ababa, Ethiopia

“Guys! Guys! You gotta get in here! Someone, call Hotch!” Penelope instructed, waving her hands all about trying to get everyone’s attention.

“What is it?” you asked.

“I think I may have just found our unsub,”

“You found the unsub?” Dave added. “How?”

“While I was scanning the American databases I decided, why not, just for fun to run it through our system, and by ours I mean the government’s for all workers,”

“And?” Alex pressed.

“I got a hit for the description we got on the unsub and, get this: worked at the White House under the president, but was fired for leaking confidential documents to the press, but his family comes from big money so they managed to keep it on the down-low in terms of media,”

“Could that be our stressor?” JJ inquired.

“That’s what I thought, but as you know me I just dig and I dig and I dig-,”

“Babygirl,” Morgan interjected. “The point?”

“As a fall back he saw an opening for a job at the embassy here, but he was rejected immediately after moving here which is right around the time of the first murder,”

“And now the American connections make sense,” you breathed. “He’s trying to get back at people who have a connection with the country he worked for that did him wrong in his own eyes,”

“Exactly,” Reid nodded. “Garcia do we have an address?”

“That we do, I’m sending it to your phones now, be careful out there,”

The raid went by in a whirlwind, but in the end, you did find him in his home and much to your surprise, apprehended him without a fight.

As Derek and JJ hauled him up in the car you stood back on the front porch of his home and took a moment to take the change in. No more sleepless nights, no more cases, no more dealing with your condescending boss, no more BAU, and no more Aaron.

No more Aaron. You knew it was coming, you knew it from the beginning, but that didn’t stop that brick feeling in the pit of your stomach, but you ended up having him a little longer than expected.

September 1st | In Transit

The Commissioner had asked you to accompany the BAU back to D.C. in order to assist in the custody transfer.

On the plane ride, you sat next to Aaron. The sky was dark outside but everyone was wide awake.

“Jack’s really excited to get his little souvenirs,” he shared.

“I’m sure he’s going to love them,” you gave him a kind smile. “And the scarf for Jess? Did we end up getting her favourite colour?” you asked.

“Yes, close call though, I almost got green and she does not like green,” Aaron nodded.

You continued to chat quietly throughout the flight, Alex and Dave just observing you from where they sat in the seats in front of you.

You didn’t realize how painfully obvious it was for everyone else to see that you had it bad for each other. Looking back it almost seemed comical, the lingering stares, touches. Everyone could see it, but the two of you.

But a part of yourself didn’t want to see it, because maybe if you convinced yourself that you hadn’t fallen for him in the short two months you had known him as a colleague, and maybe now a friend, then you wouldn’t hurt when you left it all behind.

Walking into the BAU’s office in Quantico, Virginia, late at night you were surprised at the number of people present and the entire team including yourself were welcomed back with open arms. Their Section Chief was even there to congratulate them and you also finally got a chance to meet Jack Garett.

“(Y/N), do you mind if I speak with you for a moment, in my office maybe?” he suggested.

You looked over at the team, they were all chatting and catching up with the rest of their co-workers so you nodded your head and followed him into his office, not noticing Aaron’s eyes on you from afar.

“I heard about what happened,” he started with. “I just wanted to express my sincerest condolences,”

“Thank you, I really appreciate that,” you nodded.

“But I understand that now you no longer have any family or relatives in the country?”

“You would be correct,” you nodded slowly. “My parents and I moved there when I was ten years old, so all my other family is spread around,”

“Well then, I hope that sways your decision on what I’m about to tell you,” he chuckled a little to himself. “I’d really love to have you on my team. From what I’ve heard and the digging I’ve done you’re quite familiar with various groups of law enforcement in East Africa, it would be an asset to have you,”

Your eyes opened wide and despite the jet lag, you felt wide awake.

“Wow, I-I don’t know what to say,” you said. “I really wasn’t expecting this,”

“Hopefully yes,” Jack laughed. “We’d love to have you here, (Y/N),”

You thought for a moment, it could be something good to consider, but you weren’t sure if you could commit to making that big of a decision just yet.

“Can I have some time to sleep on it?” you asked.

“Yes, of course,” Jack nodded. “You have my number, just let me know when you’ve made your choice,”

You shook his hand and left his office with a new thing to ponder, meeting back up with the team in the conference room that was much less crowded now that everyone had gone home.

“What did Jack want?” Dave was the first to ask you.

“Oh, he um, offered me a job actually,” you admitted.

“That’s amazing,” Alex smiled, “Congratulations,”

“Yeah, I think I’m going to sleep on it and we’ll see,”

“Are you going to stay or fly out tomorrow?” Aaron spoke up.

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “Maybe I’ll stay, maybe not,”

“Then we should say our goodbyes just in case,” Penelope said, getting up from her chair and going over to wrap you in a tight hug. “You’re such a lovely person and I’m going to miss having you bring me leftovers for lunch,”

“Yeah, I think you’ve hooked us all on Ethiopian food now, we’ll definitely be regulars at one of the restaurants around,” JJ chuckled and came and gave you a hug as well.

One by one, each member came and said their piece until only Aaron was left.

He held out his hand for you to shake and although you were surprised and a little offended you took it.

“It was really nice getting to know you,”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “You too,”

Letting go of his hand you walked out of the room without another word and headed to your hotel for the night.

—

September 2nd | Washington D.C.

“That’s all he said? It was really nice getting to know you? No, I miss you? No, are you sure you can’t stay longer?”

You shook your head. “I won’t lie to you, I was pretty mad,”

“As you should have been!”

“But, I-,” you sighed. “I don’t know, I just regret it now. I came back to the building and didn’t go say a proper goodbye and that’s just going to sit in the back of my mind now,”

The lady, whose name you still hadn’t learnt, placed a hand on your back and gave you a few sympathetic pats.

“I know it’s only been two months, but God he was special, who knows if something like that’s going to come around again,”

The lady had a wide smile on her face and you were a little confused, you weren’t telling her anything amusing, were you.

“Does this agent of yours by any chance have black hair? Is he, hmm, maybe just over six feet? Brown eyes? Angry-looking eyebrows?”

“Y-Yes, how did you know?” you asked.

“I don’t think you’re going to have to wait for something special to come around sweetheart,” she pointed discreetly over your shoulder and you turned around to see Aaron, still in his work suit, running around the airport and looking around desperately.

“Aaron?” you called and he stopped in his tracks, turning to where your voice was coming from.

You took a few steps forward, but in an instant Aaron was running towards you at full speed, only slowing when he was right in front of you, one of his arms quickly snaking around your waist and the other holding the back of your head as he smashed his lips to yours.

Now if you had to judge, this was a much better goodbye than the one you received yesterday.

Your hands held his face tightly and pulled him even closer and changed to wrapping your arms around his neck so he was flush against every part of you.

You only pulled apart for lack of air and the first words to come past his lips were,

“Stay, please,” and you hadn’t known him long, but in two months you could tell Aaron Hotchner was not a man who begged, and yet there was a certain desperation in his voice, a waver in his tone. Your faces were so close together, you could just barely feel his lips brushing over yours. “I know it’s selfish of me, and I know I should have said something sooner, but I need you to stay. You don’t have to take Jack’s offer, I can find something different if that’s not what you want, but call it fate, destiny, even the Will of God, whatever you want, I think there was a reason we ended up coming to Addis,” he whispered. “And I know that it’s hard sometimes, this job, it gets dark and frightening, but I want to be here for it all. I want you. So please don’t shut me out, don’t leave. Stay, please,”

You hadn’t noticed the few tears that had streamed down your face until he kissed them away and you couldn’t hold back your nod.

“I’ll stay, I’m staying,” you said and fitted your lips to his once more in a kiss that took both your breaths away.

You didn’t want to be out of his arms, but you needed to grab your bag if you wanted to get out of the airport.

When you returned to your seat the lady was still there, a small, knowing smile on her face. You wiped away any stray tears and opened your arms to hug her.

“Thank you,” you said. “Just for listening to me,”

“Anytime my dear,” she squeezed you tight before letting you go and handing you a card.

“Lisa, it was very nice to meet you,” you said. “I’m (Y/N),”

“It was a pleasure to meet you too, (Y/N),” she nodded. “Now I think you’ve got someone waiting for you over there,”

You chuckled a little bit and grabbed your bag and turned around, reaching a hand out to Aaron who took yours in his, pressing a kiss to its back while you walked out of Reagan International. And when you stepped out of the large building, you could hear the deep rumble of thunder above you and before long, drop by drop it started to rain.

[theladyragnell]

This is a request for All your Tortall … and Jon thoughts 👀

I mean, if I shared ALL my thoughts, I wouldn't get anything else done tonight, and while I do love having tumblr conversations, I do have other things to do with my life. But I will share a collection!

1. Re: Jon, since this has become a Jon Conte Confessional over the past day somehow: in a lot of ways, I am fond of Jon! I have always rooted for George in the love triangle, but I was fond of Jon, and I think that as Privileged Boys Who Don't Get Made Fun Of Enough To Teach Them Humility In Fiction go, there are many worse case scenarios. But these days, I do get annoyed with his smug sense that everything will always go his way when he's younger and also the way he is with Alanna in In the Hand of the Goddess, where he acts like a dick a LOT and only moves to finally seduce her when she's performing femininity. Like, that's sure a thing. And that's before we get to the Kel books, which I won't get into tonight, because we're only two books into the Great Tortall Reread and I've got to pace myself.

2. You can definitely see Pierce feeling out her worldbuilding in the Alanna quartet! I remember things being a lot more settled and standard by the time we hit the Daine books, and there are so many things from the Alanna books that got dropped! The way that magic is perceived and how it's used really change throughout the quartet and after the quartet, for instance. And the first Alanna book especially made me very fascinated with the anthropological history of Tortall. Who are these Old Ones, dipping everything in not!plastic to maintain it? I'm guessing if she had the books to write over again, Pierce would cut that out, maybe make Lightning a divine gift, maybe have the Nameless Ones be stranded immortals, Stormwings or something, a hint of the Immortals quartet to come, but what is there is very interesting to me.

3. George is the Best Fictional Man and I love him, and also it is deeply hilarious that he is 17 at the start of the Alanna books. He's a BABY.

4. An incomplete list of people who deserve better for one reason or another, where "better" can mean "just more narrative depth" or "a wholly different arc, thanks": Thom of Trebond, Delia of Eldorne, Alex of Tirragen.

5. I know Woman Who Rides Like a Man has its problems, but I'm excited for Alanna to mentor and befriend some ladies (and then the arrival of Thayet and Buri in Lioness Rampant, thank goodness!). These early books sure have some Not Like Other Girls syndrome. (Which I know is something Pierce has addressed over the years! I'm not blaming who she is now for them, just commenting on my experience of reading.)

6. My only overarching thought: I'm so sad that since Alianne, Pierce has only written Tortall prequels. I am, as a rule, anti-prequel, and there are post-Aly stories I'd really love to see more than the Beka Cooper books or the Numair prequel. I want to keep seeing Tortall grow and change! Where's my Maura of Dunlath book? Where's one about Dove as she grows up and takes on queenship? Where's my first lady Rogue? I haven't read 3/4 of the prequel books I'm complaining about, but regardless of how good they may be, I'd still rather watch Tortall (and the rest of its world) grow into a happier future.

[intheticklecloset]

Jealous (Yuri on Ice)

Summary: Yurio isn't too happy when he finds Otabek skating with Victor, but Otabek's encouragement turns into something else when he learns his friend is sensitive in more ways than one.

A/N: I've been obsessed with Yurio recently, and I knew I wanted to write a fic with him as the lee but I wasn't sure how to go about it for a little while. This is my first attempt at a Yuri on Ice fic of any kind, and I'm really happy with it. I hope you enjoy it as well!

Word Count: 1,719

~~~

“Don’t be mad,” Otabek said, smiling at Yuri’s glare that was laced with a pout.

Yuri grunted and looked away. “I’m not mad,” he muttered, but it was obvious he was lying. He’d gotten to the rink a little later than he’d intended, and upon arrival had seen his best friend skating with Victor. He didn’t know whether they were practicing or actually skating together, and he didn’t care. Either way it had made his blood boil to see the man he’d looked up to for so many years skating with his friend. His, not Victor’s.

Now that Victor had gone – bidding them a way-too-cheerful goodbye as he went – Yuri let his mask of irritation slip just enough to let Otabek see that he wasn’t just angry. He was disappointed, too. Worried. And that bothered him even more.

Otabek stepped closer, wrapping his arms around Yuri’s shoulders in a hug, and the younger teen stiffened at the obvious show of affection. This was the part of friendship that was still new to him; this hanging out, talking to each other, hugging.

“It’s okay, Yuri,” Otabek said, voice softening. “I still want to skate with you, if you want to.”

Yuri scoffed. “Of course I want to skate with you, idiot. Er, I mean…” He frowned, trying to find the words. “Not idiot, just…of course I want to skate. That’s all. I want to skate. With you. Just us.”

Otabek chuckled, pulling away to look his friend in the eyes. “Good. I do, too.”

Yuri shook him off. “Then why were you skating with Victor?”

“He was here when I got here, and you were running late.” Otabek smirked, tweaking his side playfully. “Don’t be so jealous.”

Yuri gasped sharply, taking a step back, eyes wide. Otabek looked at him, confused at first. Then realization dawned and his smirk became a smile.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Yuri muttered, fighting against the blush he knew was threatening to light up his face. “I’m allowed to be jealous. You’re my friend, not his.”

“You’re allowed to have more than one friend, you know. You’re friends with the other Yuuri, and I’m not jealous of him when you two hang out.”

“We do not hang out,” Yuri spat. “That pig and I are not friends.”

Otabek observed him for a moment, then pinched his side again.

Yuri squeaked and stumbled back even further. “Quit doing that!”

“Are you ticklish?” Otabek asked finally, advancing on him.

The way the blonde scrambled away so hard and fast that he slammed himself into a wall was enough answer on its own. Otabek trapped the smaller boy between his arms, pinning him in place with his body and his gaze as he smiled warmly. Yuri was definitely blushing now.

“You are being difficult,” the blonde managed, trying to duck under Otabek’s elbow. The taller boy grabbed the hood of his jacket and yanked him back, snatching up his wrists and pinning them above his head. Yuri sputtered indignantly. “L-Let me go, you – you idiot! What are you doing?!”

Otabek chuckled. “You think I’m being difficult?” He tweaked Yuri’s ribs this time, smirking at the little noise he got in response, followed by a sharp twist to the side. “You’re the one who needs a lesson, my friend.”

“Don’t touch me,” Yuri snapped, eyes widening when Otabek poked a finger into his side and wiggled, keeping up with him even when he tried to jerk out of the way again. He bit hard on his lip, breathing quickly, trying not to laugh. “Don’t touch me, I said! Beka!” Still that finger kept up, wiggling and digging and poking from his side to his stomach, eventually searching out the blonde’s navel through his clothes. Yuri wished he could move, wished he could do something, but Otabek held his arms firmly above his head and just kept standing there, smirking at him, waiting for him to break. Yuri was blushing red as a tomato and he couldn’t do anything about it. “S-Stop! Beka – stop!”

But Otabek just smiled, moving that poking, prodding finger down the front of his stomach to his hip bone, and that’s when Yuri brought his leg up defensively and let out a little huff. Just a huff – not a giggle yet – but enough of a noise to let the older boy know he was getting somewhere.

“Here?” he asked, placing his hand on Yuri’s hip and pressing his thumb into the bone, harder this time, and the blonde let out a tiny snicker. “There we go. This must be your spot.”

“S-Stop it, Beka,” Yuri pleaded, a wide smile on his face that he couldn’t control. He squirmed against the wall, helpless, desperately hoping Otabek would show mercy. He hated the way he sounded when he was tickled, hated how it made him laugh beyond his control, hated that it made him beg like a little kid. “Don’t…don’t…”

Otabek hummed. “Don’t what?”

Yuri glared at him. “Don’t tickle me.”

“Why not? Tickling is fun. Friends tickle each other, don’t they?” The dark-haired teen pressed in again, and again, he got a little snicker. “You’re my friend, and I want to make you laugh since you’re so unhappy.”

“It’s your fault I’m unhappy!” Yuri cried, twisting sharply to the side when that thumb pressed in again, kneading little circles. “Y-You were skahahating with Victohohor!”

Otabek smiled and shook his head. “You’re impossible sometimes.”

“Stop,” Yuri pleaded, the first giggles finally spilling out of him. “N-Nohohot there, please, it t-tihihihickles – Beka, please—”

“I want to hear you laugh,” Otabek replied simply, finding the hollow of his hip and kneading deeply.

Yuri spasmed against the wall, turning his face to the side to hide his wide smile and blush. “Nohohohohoho! Stohohop it, plehehease, I hahahate being tickled!”

“You hate it?” Otabek asked, slowing to a stop. “Why?”

Yuri pressed his lips together, refusing to look at his friend. “It’s humiliating.”

“I’m not trying to humiliate you. I’m trying to have fun with you.”

“Fun?”

“Yes.”

“Tickling?”

“Yes?” Otabek frowned at him, confused. “I’m trying to make you feel better, not worse.”

“By making me make sounds I hate? Making me laugh when I’m angry at you? Making me…” Yuri huffed. “Making me beg?”

“If that’s the way being tickled makes you feel, I won’t do it.” Otabek’s voice was serious now, but his grip on Yuri’s wrists was unwavering. “But I think if you let me, I could show you that tickling can be fun if you let it be. You can’t help the sounds you make. I really want to hear them, actually. I won’t think you’re pathetic or weak for laughing when I tickle you. You’re ticklish, Yuri. It’s entirely normal to laugh when you’re tickled.”

“Spare me the lecture,” Yuri snapped, squeezing his eyes shut. “If you want to do it so bad, then fine. Do it. Just don’t blame me if I kick you where it counts.”

Otabek paused. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, you big oaf. Just do it already-eeee!” Yuri squeaked out the last word, his uncontrollable smile returning when Otabek resumed kneading tiny circles into his sensitive hip bone. The blonde tried to collapse, but with his friend holding his arms above his head like that, he only gave him more of an opening to tickle him. “Beka! Let me – lehehet me fall! Let me dohohohown!”

Otabek complied, releasing Yuri’s wrists so he could fall to the floor, curling up in a protective ball that the older boy then had to unfurl, coaxing him to lie flat on his back so he could reach his hips, sides, and ribs easier.

Yuri’s head was thrown back, teeth clenched against the mirth that wanted so badly to burst out of him in embarrassingly high-pitched giggles and squeaks. He shook his head, grabbing Otabek’s wrists. “Nohohohohoho! I tahahahake it bahahahack – stohohohohop!”

“I want to hear the sounds you make,” Otabek said, pinning the blonde’s wrists together with one hand and continuing to scribble and dig with the other. He broke into his own wide smile when finally – finally – Yuri Plisetsky dissolved into adorable giggles. “Like that.”

“Stohohohohohohop,” Yuri whined, squirming on the ground but going nowhere fast. He wished his hair would hide his face, but lying on the floor with his head thrown back like this, he didn’t have a hope in the world of hiding from Otabek now. “Beheheheheka, please, it tihihihihihickles!”

“I know, but isn’t this at least a little fun? I think it’s fun. You’re being really cute. I like this look on you, Yuri.” The dark-haired boy smiled fondly at his friend, letting go of him to seek out the backs of his ribs with his fingertips, blinking in surprise when Yuri yelped and gripped his shoulders, giggles bordering on something stronger. “Oh?”

“Nohohohohohoho!” Yuri was almost laughing now, but still not quite there. He shook his head, kicked his legs, tried to push Otabek away. “Plehehehehehehease! Stop, Beka, I cahahahahahan’t! I dohohohohohon’t want to!”

Otabek took that as an obvious cue to stop for real, so he ceased his tickling and sat back, patting Yuri’s knees affectionately. “No more, I promise. I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do.”

Yuri wrapped his arms around his torso, then thought better of it and covered his face, trying to hide. Still, Otabek heard the muttered “thank you” from behind his palms, and he smiled.

“If you ever want to try again, just let me know,” he said. “In the meantime, why don’t we get out on the ice. It’s why we’re here, right?”

Yuri waited a few moments before removing his hands, back to his usual, snarky self in no time despite the light pink hue that still painted his cheeks. “Yes. Skate. I want to skate. Let’s go.”

The two of them got their skates on and laced up, then headed out onto the ice together. Yuri breathed a sigh of relief, finally at ease, feeling at home, exactly where he belonged. Where he knew he was in control again. Still, though, as he and Otabek skated around and with each other, he had this nagging feeling in the back of his mind that wouldn’t quite let go.

He had a lot to think about.

[my-wonderland-imagination]

Mother Russia's Ice Tiger

Prologue-

If you had told me three years ago that I’d would have won a gold medal in the Grand Prix, with a skate choreographed by that shit head Viktor Nikiforov, winning against that little piggy, Yuuri Katsuki, and falling in love with my first ever best friend, WHOSE A FUCKING GUY, Otabek Altin... I would’ve cut you with my knife shoes, laughing manically as you screamed in pain... but here I am, winner of the Grand Prix, with Katsuki second and beside me, smiling proudly, Beka smiling over at me with his thumbs up, Viktor clapping and screaming that he’s proud of his fiancé and his son(WHICH I AM NOT!) and for once, I don’t feel angry, I don’t want to hit or throw anything, for once I feel truly... happy... I’m happy, I’m proud of what I’ve managed to achieve, for being able to finally show that I’m more than a kid with anger issues and that I can do anything, that I’m not just some liability...

A liability... That’s what she called me, a worthless liability... My supposed mother, she never cared, and she couldn’t have given a damn about me, when I was younger to me now. And that sperm donor that she called my father, I couldn’t give two shits about him nor who he was. He left us both, he didn’t care, the minute he found out she was pregnant with me, and he was out of the door faster than you could say “Pirozhki”. Ha, who could ever give a damn about someone like him?!

That’s when everything went downhill... Mama decided drugs and alcohol were the way to go... They were more important than me, more important than food or the house, and far more important than her job. The day I was taken away from her, I screamed for my mother, crying out her name, clinging onto her thin, sickly arms, begging for her to keep me. I’ll never forget that day... The anger in her eyes, the hatred burning towards me, igniting me from the inside out as she screamed back, screaming abuse at me, putting all the blame on me... I suppose she was right, if I hadn’t been produced, HE would’ve stayed, SHE would’ve been able to further her career, THEY’D be happy together... And Grandpa wouldn’t have been burdened with me, a stupid five year old, clinging to a ratty old cat plushie, given to me by one of Mamas junkie friends in pity after I got slapped again, after asking her where my daddy was for the supposed hundredth time, she hated me for driving him away, maybe she was right... It was my fault he left, neither of them wanted a kid, especially not a weak, worthless one like me...

No one wanted me, why would they? I was nothing, no matter how hard I try, no matter how many medals I win, I wasn’t ever going to be good enough. She was rig-

“Yurio! I’m so proud of you, you truly did deserve the gold. And I’m grateful that you did, as much as I wanted to retire to give Viktor his chance to go back, I felt as if we were going too fast and I didn’t want to give up what I loved doing, even if I’m a terrible skater. Thank you.” Yuuri smiled down at me and pulled me into a tight hug, holding me close to him as he laughed softly. Tears started to fall from my eyes and onto his chest, I’ve never experienced motherly love before but now, from Yuuri, it’s all I could feel.

“Sh-sh-shut up, p-p-pig! I d-d-didn’t do it f-f-for you o-o-okay?! I h-h-had to w-w-win, I d-d-deserved to!” it was hard to get my words out whilst sobbing against him, he didn’t say a word though, just tightened his hold around me, I have never felt so loved or protected in my life, not from Yakov, or Lila, not from Otabek, my best friend turned crush, not even from my beloved Grandpa.

“You know, Viktor had mentioned adopting you, he wanted us to become a proper family, and as much as I would love that, I told him that it isn’t up to us to decide, it’s your decision. But even if you say no, you’ll always have a place with us, no matter what happens, we’ll always accept you with open arms. You’re like a son to us and we both love you very much, even when you have those god awful temper tantrums of yours, ha ha.” I couldn’t help but let a strangled laugh as he laughed.

I felt him shift as he looked up at the extra idiot he calls a fiancé. I couldn’t help but wonder if he really meant it, adoption... Living as a family... It sounded like a cruel nightmare and they were just joking, that they didn’t really want me...

“Do you really mean it…? About adopting me…?” I asked timidly, too scared to even look up at him, just in case it was a cruel joke,

“Of course, we’d love to adopt you. You’re like our son already, we just wanted you to have a say in all of it too, Viktors excited about it, he started making a room for you in his apartment and started to teach Makkachin to be nice to cats, though I doubt he’s going to succeed, the man himself isn’t overly fond of them either. What do you say, be our small, angry Russian son?” He chuckled and pulled away slightly, a soft smile decorating his face, ruining his Eros image he made on the ice. I nodded slowly, letting more tears fall down my face.

I had a family now... A real fami-WAIT WHAT DID HE SAY?!

“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN HE ISN’T FOND OF CATS?! HEY, OLD MAN! WHAT’S WRONG WITH CATS?!” I yelled over at the idiot, his stupid heart shaped smile widening as he waved over at us, laughing stupidly at my comment. Did this bastard think I wasn’t serious? I can’t have someone who dislikes cats in my life, fuck that! I’m just glad Beka likes them, and tigers, because I would seriously kick his ass if he didn’t.

I looked over my best friend, my Beka, with his weird ass bear that he named Kitten after me. I admit, it was soft and cuddly and damn did it smell good, it smelt like him and that was my favourite scent in the world, my own piece of catnip. So whenever we were hanging out after practice, I’d fall asleep against him, clinging to that stupid bear that I claimed as mine after having a little wrestling match, that he always let me win after I pouted at him, and I’d end up waking up to myself curled up against his chest with his hoodie on me, which he somehow managed to slip over me and keep the bear out of it, his fingers tangled in my messy blonde hair and his eyes closed, dead to the world and yet cradling me close to him, almost as if he was protecting me from the outside world, from my past and the darkness that still lingers around me. I loved those nights, Grandpa wouldn’t mind me staying with him, Beka usually sent him a message to tell him that I fell asleep again and that he would bring me back, dressed in clean clothes, fed and happy, with the amount of times it happened, I now have clothes in his suitcase, though I usually stole something of his, one of his hoodies, a scarf, a tee, just something that was his (He’d always give me this look then would chuckle at me, shaking his head before making sure that the helmet was tight and sturdy on my head). Lila would’ve told Yakov that I was allowed to spend the night with my best friend because I’ve been training hard enough to get a little break and it's good for my body to relax in comfort, seeing as I usually had nightmares when we stayed in hotel rooms and I was away from my personal drug that was the only thing that could comfort me.

It’s weird how easy it was to get used to Beka, it took me years to get used to Yakov, I’m still not used to that old hag, Mila, no matter what she tries. I’m still trying with Lila, even if she’s nicer than Yakov and helps me keep my flexibility. I will never get used to Viktors extra, stupid ass, and Katsudon… He’s just there, whenever I need him or need someone to yell at, he always takes it and helps me. But Beka, when he told me about how we met years ago, and what he thought the moment he saw me... Fuck, I melted, he’s everything to me, my best friend, my crush... He’s always there to cheer me up when I need it, with his totally awesome bike, he’s always there to save me from crazy fangirls and I don’t know what I’d do without him there to make me laugh, he makes me feel more... Human, he’s my Agape... My Agape, fuuuuuccccckkkkkkk, why does he have to be so cool, and sweet and fucking hell, he’s so fucking hot... But most of all, why did he choose me? Why did he want to be friends with me?

No one’s ever wanted to be friends with me before, everyone’s always thought of me as the angry, spoilt, Russian child who hates the world and everyone in it, I may look delicate but my personality ‘clashes with my innocent look, especially when I skate’ but he didn’t say that, he said that I was rude, arrogant, angry, resentful, crazy, foul-mouthed but that’s what made me so unique, especially when I skate because it showed how human I really was, I was real not some fake like some people * cough JJ cough * and I was able to show everyone that you should never judge a book by its cover... He was good with words like that, he melted my icy heart and settled into a special place in it, and I’m terrified he might leave once he finds out about my past... He might think I’m a liability, that I’m worthless, just like Mama said, that’s why I keep everyone at arm’s length, because of how terrified I am that they’ll leave once they see, that they’ll lie like she did and will throw me away like I’m nothing.

I may act like I’m this scary, angry, Ice Tiger of Mother Russia but really, I’m this scared, broken, lost, little kitten, desperately trying to survive in the big bad world of sharks, that’s all. But with my Beka, with the idiot Viktor, and the piggy, Katsudon, I think that maybe I can become a real Ice Tiger of Mother Russia and do them proud, I have to make everyone proud, so then they won’t abandon me, I can’t have anyone else abandon me, it’d destroy me...

[theticklishpear]

Hi, I just wondered if you could help me with tips on how to write fiction in a diary format? Specifically creating tension as well as engaging scenes with mainly telling/summary. Some background without too much detail... its a horror short story involving the "haunting" of a MC where halfway through it'll change to normal narrative and the story unfolds real-time. Any other pointers you could would be useful for me to bear in mind would be appreciated. Thanks :)

The diary or journal format of story-telling is a near cousin to the epistolary, in which the story is told through letters. After all, aren’t diaries and journals basically just letters we write to ourselves? We’re not usually writing for it to be read by someone else - we’re trying our best to be real and say our true thoughts and feelings about a situation in a safe place. We use diaries and journals to be seen, even if that’s just helping ourselves see ourselves better.

So what makes a diary story work?

Voice.

These stories are all about the narrator being an actual person, not just some metaphorical god-voice describing life in as beautiful and highfalutin of terms possible. This is a real human being caught up in events they probably weren’t expecting, dealing with people they may not have thought they’d be dealing with, talking about real things happening to them. It’s key to the life and vitality of the story that it carry that voice to the audience and that the voice is strong. Just because you’re writing a diary doesn’t mean every entry has to start with, “Dear Diary.” In fact, depending on the character, it probably won’t.

While I said at the start that we often write to ourselves, sometimes diaries and journals are written as though someone might theoretically read them in the future. Consider how your character thinks of these entries. Are they trying to leave a message to someone who might come across the diary later? Are they writing to comfort themselves? Are they writing to an imaginary audience because it helps them to cope with what’s going on? What’s your character’s reason to write and relationship to their writings? That can help inform their tone and the kinds of things they might write about.

The device in D.J. MacHale’s Pendragon series is that the main character is on a different plane/planet/time from his friends who are receiving his journals periodically. His friends never know if it will be the last set of journals they’ll receive, and Bobby is writing his adventures specifically for his friends, so they are thorough and actually a fairly typical narrative structure in first person. This is possible because of the reason for Bobby’s writing them.

You still have standard narrative tools available to you; they just might look a little different. Descriptions that in an average narrative structure might have time to breathe and grow into longer, more detailed things will likely be shorter, more to-the-point, more visceral. You can feed on the real and disjointed way of describing that people have in conversation. Rather than needing it to sound “good” and to choose the perfect words to craft beautiful storytelling, you can embrace the garbage words we choose for ourselves. Descriptions can focus on fewer background details, fewer things we might include in longer stories to help build out the world.

Internal thoughts and monologues about what the character feels and thinks about what’s being witnessed are more able to be put front-and-center since these entries are directly from them. The story’s already purposefully being set behind a filter, so you might as well embrace it.

Dialogue is absolutely still an option for you. It may be just the essentials of a conversation, but don’t feel like you’re just constrained to telling. You can show, too; you just have to be judicious about it.

Tension comes from format as much as the events. When constructing these entries, take the practicality of sitting down to write an entry into account. Time is passing, always, for your character, even while they’re writing. Some days they won’t have time to write so you wind up with time gaps. These leave an audience looking at the dates from one entry to the next and wondering what could have happened to keep them from writing for so long. Sometimes your character only has five minutes to scribble down an update rather than write something long and detailed. Those short entries help to speed up pacing, which is a great way to get your reader turning those pages and tightening up subconsciously.

In the same vein, not every entry has to have a complete arc the way a scene does in a standard narrative structure. People get interrupted. These, like chapter cliffhangers, need to be used with enormous care and purpose, and sparingly. Remember that every entry will bring your character up to their present, even if it’s not what you think of as the present of the story.

In Tamora Pierce’s Beka Cooper books, which are all three written in journal format, Beka sometimes writes more than one entry per day as she has time to write throughout her chores and jobs. As a way to bring the audience into the urgency of a situation, entries will sometimes end with Beka remarking on something going on as she’s writing and then leaving it abruptly: “I’d drifted off, thinking of other things I had learned in Dale’s rooms, when I heard loud voices downstairs. I must go.” End entry.

Other times there may be simply a date but no entry, as though Beka intended to write but either didn’t have time, didn’t have anything to say on what had happened, or wasn’t quite ready to write. Sometimes there are more device-like endings in which Beka notes her tiredness and begins to spell poorly before an intense part of her day’s story, saying “[she] can barely see [her] page” and must sleep for now. This is a bit of a cheaper trick, but the forced pause for the reader does initiate some amount of excitement and trepidation for what’s to come.

Bobby in the Pendragon series often pauses his journals before something big is about to go down so he can send a final goodbye to his friends at the end: “The crazy thing was, this all came about because of two people who never could have foreseen the outcome of their actions. .... It was clear to me now. The turning point for Denduron wasn’t the battle between the Milago and the Bedoowan. ....[T]here was something else that became clear. I wasn’t going home. .... This may be my last journal I write to you, Mark and Courtney. If it is, then please know that it wasn’t your fault about the flashlight. All you did was help out a friend. The blame is all mine. If you don’t hear from me again, then please know I did everything I could to undo the mess I created. I may not be successful, but at least I tried. Thank you for reading this, and for being my friends. Hopefully this isn’t a final good-bye.” This helps remind the audience that, indeed, Bobby could die. Just because he appears to be the main character, and is the author of the journals, doesn’t mean he’s not in grave danger. He can still die, he can still be injured, and it helps to make the audience curious about how he gets out of his predicament.

That’s where your tension comes from. Making danger a reality for your protagonist and making your audience curious to see how it goes.

It is more important than ever to keep yourself present with your character. Tense and timeline can get tricky with diary entries, so make sure that when you’re writing an entry, you keep in mind exactly where in the timeline your character is. While you’re writing, don’t think about what’s coming up next for your character. That kind of thing has a tendency to sneak into these style of stories. Stay in the moment with your character, not in the future with your notes. Let them say things that are wrong because they don’t know the answer yet. Let them guess about their next step and what their plans are for tackling their situation, even if you know that’s most definitely not what’s going to happen.

Good luck!-Pear

[mymusehatesme]

Castle of Glass

Chapter Eight: Repercussions

Words: 888

Summary: A Hell Gate has opened on Earth, so you and your siblings decide to defend humanity, inadvertently locking yourselves out of Heaven.  Now you must wander the Earth doing good deeds until your penance has been served.   Unfortunately, your attempt goes a little awry and you find yourself a prisoner of the man they call the Hollow King….  [Female reader, angel reader.]

Warnings: None

Inspiration was this post: https://beka-tiddalik.tumblr.com/post/160726927715/a-tradition

MASTERLIST                      SERIES MASTERLIST

You inhaled sharply as you awoke.  Everything was tilted, as though you were laying down.  A head popped up in the corner of your vision.  

Turning to look, you realized it was Sam - who wasn't wearing his crown.  Instead, he was wearing an extremely concerned expression.

This wasn’t making sense.  Why was he here?

He reached out and laid his hand over yours, curling his fingers to lightly squeeze your hand.  Warm, comfortingly heavy blankets enveloped you while pleasantly firm pillows propped you up in a halfway sitting position.

Where were you?  What happened?  Where was Ruby?

Rain pattered gently against the stained glass window and a fire crackled on the far wall, sending shadows dancing.

With great effort, you pried your teeth and lips apart and breathed, “You okay?”

A sad smile twitched at his lips and he nodded.  “I’m fine, thanks to you.  How are you holding up?”

Pressure against your forehead from the inside of your skull forced you to close your eyes.  Normally, a good response to that question would be, ‘Just peachy,’ or ‘Stellar - why, don’t I look it?’ or even, ‘Never better,’ but lying was unbecoming of an angel. 

Fortunately, a certain phrase was able to rest fears while not admitting to terrible injury.  

“I’m fine,” you reply.

Seconds dragged by in near silence.  Then his clothes rustled with movement.  “Drink this.”

You sighed internally.  Your mouth did not like being open.  Neither did your eyes.  But you opened your eyes first and saw him holding a glass with murky orange contents.  You blinked once.  Then twice.

Between those blinks, you took inventory of yourself.  Your jaw had been dislocated (now reset and mostly healed), your forehead had been fractured (now mostly healed), your abdomen had been stabbed with a jagged blade thirteen times (now bandaged and mostly healed), your right femur had been broken (now splinted and mostly healed), and your left wrist had been shattered (now splinted, bandaged, and mostly healed).

After the second blink, you calculated how long you must have been out in order for your injuries to have healed as far as they had.

You croaked, “Two weeks?”

He said nothing.  But then again, he really didn’t have to.

Releasing your good hand from his hold, you carefully took the glass and sipped the liquid.  Whatever it was was bitter and sweet at the same time.

“Almost two weeks,” he replied quietly, “thirteen days.”

Thirteen days, thirteen times Ruby stabbed you.

If you could laugh, you would.  Or... maybe you wouldn’t.  You couldn’t know for sure.

“You’ve been here thirty-three days in total,” Sam said, “Twenty-seven more and you will be free of me.”

You slid your eyes over to him.  His eyes were on your bandaged hand.

He blamed himself for your current predicament?

“Sam,” his eyes snapped up to yours, full of hope and regret, “you prayed to me.”

He cast his eyes down again and you could feel the self-hatred roll off of him.  ‘If I hadn’t prayed, she would be all right.  If I hadn’t kept her here, she would be fine.  If I hadn’t-’

“Stop,” you chastised softly, “and look at me, Samuel Winchester.”

His throat worked as he swallowed, hesitating to look at you.  But when he finally did, you saw no pity or blame in his eyes.  Just him; just his hazel eyes, open and hopeful.

“There is no one to blame but her.  She chose to do what she did,” you said, “I accept the consequences of my actions, but she must accept hers.”

Sam nodded firmly.  “She’s in the dungeon,” he began, answering the question you were about to ask, “I did not want her dead until I knew you were going to be all right.”

Pressure built above your eyes until it was almost too painful.  Hissing through your teeth, you closed your eyes and leaned back against the pillows.  “Sam, promise me you will not kill her.”

You felt him shake his head.  “I can’t promise that and I won’t.  You were under my protection and she hurt you.  She hurt me and if you weren’t there-”

“Sam.”  Too much.  Too much pain.  Too much blame.  Too much suffering.  You just wanted to go home.  “You cannot kill her.”  You just wanted to sleep.  “Treaties are on shaky ground, you cannot risk your kingdom over a rogue demon.”  You just wanted peace.

He was silent and still for a long moment.

“Rogue,” he mused, rolling the word over in his mind, “The King of Hell wouldn’t send a demon prone to capricious tendencies as a diplomat.”  Taking the half-empty glass from your hand, he set it on the bedside table and stood up.

Without opening your eyes, you asked, “Where are you going?  What will you do?”

As you heard him stride across the room, he said, “Rest and heal.  I have contracts to read over.”  The door opened and he paused.  “I am sorry, (Y/N)... and you may be right.  I will uncover the point of this plot, I promise you that.”

The door closed and you heard footsteps receding down the hallway.

You sighed to yourself and cursed the ring of Holy Fire.  It was torture to be cut off from the thoughts and prayers of your siblings that were on the outside.

[wanderingclark]

The Kiss || Beka and Clark

Who: Clark Meeks and Beka Hummel ( @doveportbeka )

Where: Some park in a quiet neighborhood in Clark’s car.

When: January 6, 2020

What: Clark and Beka share a moment they weren’t really ready for.

TW: Mentions of drugs, hard drugs, parental death.

Clark

Clark went about their day. They went to Lush with Sugar and swiped one of the bathbombs when Sugar wasn’t looking and then enjoyed dinner with the girl before heading over to Laura’s. The girl was great in bed but Clark was definitely distracted. They hoped it didn’t show too much but the girl seemed to enjoy herself so Clark went with it. When they was finished it was 11:30 and they swung by the gas station and grabbed a couple bottles of Jack and a few cartons of cigarettes. They had a feeling all would be needed this evening. By 12 midnight, they were sitting on the hood of their car, enjoying a cigarette when Beka walked out of the store. Exhaling, Clark half smiled. “Good shift?” they asked, getting the girls attention.

Beka

The shop usually closed a little early on Mondays, because people in Doveport were lame, but Beka was always the last to leave since she had to clean and make sure it was ready for the next day. Putting her jacket on over her tattered tank top, she locked the door behind her and stuffed the keys in her pocket before turning. With a half smile, she approached the car, running her hand though her tangled waves, and pushed herself up to join Clark on the hood. "Peachy." She said dryly, reaching out and taking the cigarette from Clark's hand without asking and taking a long drag before handing it back.

Clark

Clark let her take it before grabbing the box sitting next to her and opening it up for her to grab her own. "You talk to your sister?" they asked, as they pulled out their lighter and lit the girls cigarette for her. The took the last long drag of their own before flicking it off into the street and pulled out a new one to start over as they remained quiet, letting the girl decide if she wanted to talk or not.

Beka

Beka took the fresh cigarette and inhaled deeply as Clark lit it for her. She shrugged one shoulder up in answer to their question, the events of the day were still blurry in her brain, she had no idea how to make sense of any of it. Swallowing hard, she exhaled the long stream of smoke. "You know," she said, her voice raspy. "Not being able to use right now... really fuckin sucks. Like, there's nothing I'd rather be doing right now, and..." She trailed off, taking another drag from the cigarette instead.

Clark

Clark nodded. "I know you're quitting cold turkey and stuff but you know I'll always share if you need it" they offered quietly. Taking another drag and staying quite for another moment, Clark didn't really know what to say. "I have your queso but for real though, we don't have to hook up or whatever. I picked up some Jack on the way over here. We can just eat and drink and not do anything" they said seriously. "Or you can take all your frustration out on me. I can take it"

Beka

Licking her lips, Beka looked over at Clark. "I should have just left, I knew I couldn't do it, and now...." She ran her free hand through her hair again. "It's my fault." She said quietly, a single tear slipping down her cheek. She brushed it away quickly, angry that it had made an appearance at all. She knew Erika being on drugs, no matter what anyone said, was her fault. It always was, it always had been.

Clark

Clark wrapped their arm around Beka’s shoulder and pulled her in. “It’s not your fault dude” they said softly but sternly. “She asked you about drugs. You showed her weed. The safest drug put there. And my guess is it wasn’t laced with anything. So unless you provided the heroin, the needles and helped show her how to use it, it’s not your fault and  I’m not gonna sit here and let you blame yourself” she told the girl, finding herself feeling protective towards the end of her thought

Beka

"Everything that happens in my family is my fault, it has been as long as I can remember. Every fight, every bad dinner... my mom getting sick... Erika being depressed. All of it." She shook her head. It didn't matter. "Congrats though, on being one of... three people in the world to ever see me cry. Good job." She attempted to joke, not pulling away from the embrace as she normally would have.

Clark

Clark shook their head. “But it’s not your fault. I know you didn’t kill your mom. I know that you can’t make someone else depressed. Yeah, maybe you caused some fights or whatever but that’s a family thing. I caused many a fight over dinner and in my house as well. I also do drugs. But if Dana started shooting heroin, that wouldn’t be my fault, even if I introduced her to weed or whatever. That’s her choice, not mine” Clark chuckled humorlessly. “Wasn’t on my list of things to experience with ya but hey, no judgement here dude. This is an all around shitty situation.”

Beka

Beka took a deep breath, she knew Clark wouldn't understand, no one ever did. They assumed her family was like everyone else's, that she was like everyone else, maybe just rough around the edges. No one understood how fucked up she was, that from the time she had been born she'd been... wrong. She pulled one knee up to her chest and took another long drag, she couldn't even get high, she wasn't really supposed to be drinking either, but what did it matter? Erika was poisoning herself and despite what Clark thought, Beka knew it was her fault. "So... you said you had some Jack?"

Clark

Clark finished their cigarette and flicked it off into the street and just remained quiet. Beka was making herself as small as possible and their relationship revolved around sex so far so right now they felt a little out of their element. But the girl needed them and they didn’t want to leave so they stayed and they held her until she spoke again. Looking over at her, they nodded. “Yeah. Come on” they said as they removed their arm from the girl and jumped down before reaching a hand out to help Beka down as well. Once they were both off the hood, Clark moved around to the drivers seat and jumped in, unlocking the car as they did so. Reaching back, the grabbed a bottle and handed it to Beka once she got in as well. “Have at it. I’m just gonna go park somewhere where we’re allowed to stay and have a bit of privacy and then I’ll help ya with the bottle” the said with a wink.

Beka

Beka took a final drag and flicked her own cigarette into the street before taking Clark’s hand and hopping off the car. She exhaled the last of her smoke before opening the car door and sliding into the seat. Taking the bottle she gave a wry smile. “How was Sugar?” She asked, figuring Clark was fucking the heiress too.

Clark

Clark chuckled and shook their head as the drove. “She’s Sugar. Heiress of Doveport. Obnoxious and loud and demanding. Too much like Deni” they said, the last sentence coming out quieter but still loud enough for Beka to hear. Shaking their head again, the reached between them into their backpack and grabbed the bath bomb. “I don’t know what this does but they call it a bath bomb and since you take baths apparently, figured you could use it” the said, never taking their eyes off the road.

Beka

Toying with the bottle cap, Beka considered if she should drink or try to be good. She finally decided to say fuck it and twisted the bottle open, taking a swig, the sweet burn of the dark liquor coating her throat. “Too much like her how?” She asked, wiping her mouth with the sleeve of her jacket. She reached out and took the orb. “Thanks, I don’t usually, but I was trying to get ready and get myself off at the same time.” She shrugged.

Clark

Clark cursed under her breath before answering the question. “It’s stupid. They’re just...very much alike. The only real difference is that Deni didn’t like being in the whole socialite club like Sugar does. And the fact that Sugar isn’t gonna end up fucking me over in the end because she’s with Finn so I guess it’s not really fair to compare the two” they said with a shrug. Looking over at the orb in the girls hand, they shrugged again. “The place smelled weird and Sugar was talking way too much. I don’t even know what it does. I just threw it in my backpack” the said with a small smirk.

Beka

Beka nodded. "Women, amiright?" She quipped, taking another sip. For some reason the slow burn wasn't doing for her what it normally did and she winced, putting the cap back on the bottle. "It fizzes and turns colors and shit, can be fun if you're taking a bath with someone. I knew a chick who was real into 'em." She explained, setting the bottle down on the floorboard and letting herself hand over her knees for a second, taking a deep breath before sitting up straight, how had everything gotten so fucked up?

Clark

Clark chuckled and nodded. They saw Beka put the bottle down and knew they had to park sooner rather than later. Pulling into a quiet neighborhood with a park at the end of it, Clark made their way down the street before finding a dark corner near the park and pulling in before cutting their lights and turning back to Beka. “Then maybe one day you’ll have to show me how it’s done. Now. You want your queso?” they asked, giving the girl a small smile before expertly climbing into the back. “The side door is unlocked if it’s easier” they called out behind them as they cracked the back window and pulled out the queso out of the ice chest and their small camping stove to heat it up.

Beka

Beka offered her signature half-smile, though more wryly than usual, and nodded. She was glad they were pulling over, she just needed to be still for a while. Grabbing the bottle, she followed Clark's lead and climbed into the back, only slightly less gracefully, and sat cross-legged, the bottle nestled in the center of the nest they made. She watched Clark work, surprised they had actually gone to the trouble.

Clark

Clark made quick work to get the stove heated up and the queso on top of it. They stayed quiet while they worked, not filling the silence. It wasn’t awkward, it was just there. Ten minutes later, they pulled out a new bag of chips and tossed it over to the girl. “Queso” they said with a smirk as they grabbed their laptop table and placed the bowl on top of it. Once everything was put away, they moved to sit next to the girl, grabbing some chips out of the bag

Beka

Taking the offered chips, Beka opened the bag but took none, she suddenly wasn't very hungry. "You're sweet." She said, almost inaudibly, and turned to look at Clark. Her eyes lingered for a moment. There was something about Clark that Beka couldn't put her finger on, maybe it was the way they shared similar pasts with drugs or living unorthodoxly, or maybe it was just that they clicked, but Beka would never have been in this spot with anyone else.  Leaning forward, Beka caught Clark's lips with her own, kissing them more tenderly than she had kissed... anyone. After a few moments, she pulled away, slowly.

Clark

Clark didn’t even get the chips to their mouth before Beka’s lips were on theirs. Their eyes fell closed and their free hand automatically came up to gently cup the girls face. The kiss took them by surprise, not because it was a kiss, but because of the sudden electricity flowing through their body because of the kiss. They were suddenly feeling things they had never felt before and as soon as Beka pulled away, their breath still intermingled between them, Clark couldn’t help but lick their lips as they tried to find something to say. Anything. When they couldn’t find any words, they reached over to place their chips back in the bag before moving to straddle the other girl. But the energy was the same. When Clark leaned forward to kiss the girl again, it wasn’t heated, wasn’t passionate, wasn’t lust filled. It was slow and tender and controlled, something they had never shared with anyone, not even Deni. They didn’t let themselves think. For the first time in a long time, they just let themselves feel

Beka

There was a tingle in her stomach that Beka hadn't expected, higher up than when she was normally in this position with Clark. She raised her arms and wrapped them around Clark's neck, pulling them closer, but not hastening the kiss. It was exactly what she needed in this moment, slow and sweet, on purpose, making her feel nothing and something all at once. She didn't push for more, just let it keep happening at it's own pace.

Clark

Clark hummed as arms were wrapped around their neck. They tangled their tongue with the girl beneath her, slow and languidly. Their hands pulled the girls face closer, one of their hands  sliding from the girls cheeks to the back of her neck, suddenly feeling the need to be closer to the girl. The kiss continued on, neither moving to hasten it at all. After awhile though, Clark slowed the kiss down even more before gently pressing their lips against the girl one, two, three times before they rested their forehead against the others, trying to catch their breath.

Beka

Beka leaned into Clark as they pulled away, not wanting the kiss to end. She sat, breathlessly, her eyes flickering between Clark's, and their lips. She felt... scared, confused, but wanted more. She wanted to feel Clark's  lips against hers again. She let a few silent moments pass before she tilted her head back, initiating another slow, heated kiss. There was no rush, no push, just more electricity vibrating between their bodies.

Clark

Clark’s breathing was beginning to slow when Beka kissed them again. The electricity was still there, not slowing at all. Clark tangled their hand in the girls hair as they leaned into her more. The kiss was new and different and something Clark did not want to end again. So they didn’t. They continued to kiss the girl, slowly, heatedly, but sweetly. Not moving to further anything between them. Just enjoying the kiss.

Beka

Time passed, it could have been minutes, hours, or years, Beka didn't care. She didn't want this to end. Eventually, she shifted enough to start to slink out of her jacket, if for no other reason than to cool her body down. She could feel her cheeks were flushed, and Clark's skin felt hot to the touch too. She never wanted this to end.

Clark

Clark felt the girl beneath her move and Clark reached down to help the girl remove her jacket. The energy hadn’t shifted though. Everything remained the same and Clark’s hands came back up to cup the girls cheeks again. They could feel how hot their body was becoming and they knew eventually things were going to heat up between them. They knew that in the back of the head. But they almost didn’t want it to, what they were feeling currently was much more appealing to them at the moment.

Beka

Beka pulled Clark closer still, whimpering softly against their lips. The cold air against her bare skin made goosebumps raise all over her body, she never was very good at dressing for the weather. She was feeling turned on, if she were honest with herself, but didn't feel the need to rush things or move them forward at all, though normally she and Clark probably would have been fully naked and an orgasm in by now.

Clark

Clark felt the girl slightly shiver beneath them. They didn’t know if it was the cold or the feeling but Clark reached down and began running their hands up and down the girls arms, doing their best to warm them up as they continued what they were doing

Beka

Nibbling softly on Clark's bottom lip, Beka began to let her hands explore, more tenderly than she normally would have. Her hands wandered slowly over Clark's scalp, neck, shoulders, chest, and back up again.

Clark

Everywhere Beka touches, Clark’s body reacted, feeling like it was on fire. There was no more stopping them. The energy was shifting and Clark took it upon themselves to move things along. Reaching down, they pulled the girls shirt up, the backs of their hands running along the skin beneath it as they removed the article of clothing

Beka

Again, Beka lifted her arms to aid in the shedding of her tank top, left only in her bra and jeans, she moved her hands down to Clark's waist, tugging at their clothing, more with yearning than urgency. Though it could have already been hours, there was something in Beka that assured her they had all the time in the world to do this.

Clark

Clark lifted their hands, breaking the kiss again only to remove their shirt before pressing their lips back against Beka's. The kiss was now more heated, but the feelings were still there. Their hands explored the skin beneath them. For the first time, Clark moved the kiss away from the girls lips, their lips finding the hot skin of the girls neck and shoulder and collarbone and moving slowly, leaving open mouthed kisses and small, light nips along the girls skin. It wasn't hungry, it wasn't lustful it was tender and heated and soft.

Beka

Leaning back against the corner where the front seats met the wall of the car, Beka whimpered softly at the sudden nakedness of her lips. She fought with her last shred of who she really was to keep from begging Clark to come back, and instead tried to focus on the feel and sight of them making their way down her body. She bit down softly on her lower lip, running one hand through Clark's short hair.

Clark

Clark felt the girls body tense but when they felt hands in their hair, Clark felt the need to return to Beka’s lips. It was like they were suddenly addicted and when leaned into the kiss, Clark moaned against her lips, their hands finding the girls abs, running their fingers up and down the girls stomach as they tangled their tongue with the othe girls again.

Beka

Beka accepted Clark's kiss more eagerly this time, but still without urgency. This moment could last forever. She edged closer to Clark, so that she could more easily lay down against the mattress, pulling Clark down on top of her and popping one knee up so that they rested in the space between her legs. Now she could let her hands begin to explore again, from the nape of their neck and down, shoulders, chest again, lingering there.

Clark

Clark refused to break the kiss, letting Beka move them into a lower position, their hands coming down on either side of the girls head to hold them up as they continued the heated kiss. A moan came out of them as Beka's hands explored, her fingers leaving trails of fire along their skin. Their muscles flexed with each touch, their hips unconsciously bucking downward into the girl as their hands roamed over their chest. "Fuck" they husked out against Beka's lips, the first word spoken in, they didn't even know how long, the sound thick with emotion and lust all at once.

Beka

That one word breaking the silence, slicing through the air, made this moment more real. Beka's head cleared slightly and she pulled away from the kiss, her eyes meeting Clark's questioning for just a moment, her chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath. It would be easy to end it, or to make it more rough, the way they had been each time they'd been together. But instead she just looked down, moving her hands to snap the button of her jeans open and pull down the fly before hooking her arms under Clark's and once again pulling them in for a kiss.

Clark

Clark was breathing hard as they looked down at Beka. Their eyes locked as they tried to read each others thoughts, the energy that had been surrounding them so far beginning to fade. And Clark didn't like it one bit. They licked their lips before Beka broke their eye contact to look down. Clark followed their eyes, watching their jeans get pulled open some, but not removed. They looked back up to Beka when they felt themselves being pulled in again. And they welcomed it, meeting Beka's lips half way as they resumed their kiss, the life changing, life altering, never going back kiss that if they thought about for even a second would kill anything and everything that was going on at the moment. So they didn't think. They didn't allow themselves to think. They instead shifted their weight onto one hand as the brought the other one down between them, grabbing Beka's hand and pulling it up above their head, lacing their fingers together as the held the girls one hand there, the connection making everything even more intense.

Beka

Beka's breath caught in her throat as Clark laced their fingers together, and she whimpered against their lips. She had never been this vulnerable with anyone before, during sex or otherwise, even when she allowed herself to be submissive, there was still a wall. She was still in control of her thoughts and actions, able to stop and reverse it at any time. But this. This she couldn't have stopped even if she wanted to. It was as if every bad thought she'd ever had about herself, every bad decision she'd ever made, was being absorbed by Clark and discarded, no longer eating her alive.

Clark

Clark felt the hitch in the girls throat and heard the whimper against their lips. They slowed the kiss down as they squeezed the girls hand, almost as if to say "it's okay. i'm here." The emotions flowing through Clark would have probably suffocated them if they allowed it to but they didn't. Instead, they allowed the emotions to wash over them, both of them as they continued speaking to the girl through the kiss. They did their best to convey everything they were feeling at that moment to the girl, hoping that Beka was feeling the same way, at least some what. They allowed themselves to get closer to Beka, their torso dropping some, their skin touching more as they shifted their weight to their elbow. They wanted to feel more, be closer, want no space between them. They needed more.

Beka

Beka wrapped a leg around Clark's so they were intertwined, cupped the back of their head with her free hand, pulling them as close as possible. Was this what it was supposed to be like? Beka didn't remember her first time having sex, she'd gone to a party and left the next morning hazy and aching, but she'd heard all the sappy stories of people's "first times" on movies and in the hallway or cafeteria at school, how it was supposed to be beautiful. This felt beautiful, she wanted more, but didn't want it to turn into their usual encounter. She wanted Clark to touch her in every possible way.

Clark

Clark's hips rolled into Beka's as the girl wrapped her leg around them. This is normally where they would be ripping clothes off, the battle between the two fo them for dominance would be well underway. But this time? This time it was almost as if both of them were too scared to keep moving forward. As if the moment things heated up even slightly, the energy would be gone. Clark was terrified to lose it, a pit in their stomach worrying that if they made the first move, everything would be gone. But the heat that was radiating off of Beka into Clark just made Clark want more. So they decided to take the risk. The nipped at the girls lower lip, tugging against it slightly as they broke the kiss again before moving to place soft open mouthed kisses along the girls jawline, neck, collarbone, shoulder, down into her chest to the swells of her bra covered breasts, their hand eventually releasing Beka's as their hands explored the skin that they weren't kissing. They moved slowly, taking their time as they placed each and every kiss with purpose, no rush, no heated need to fuck hard and fast. Their movements were slow, meaningful, purposeful.

Beka

As Clark moved lower, Beka's eyes fluttered shut, she focused on taking slow, deep breaths, terrified that the moans that were building inside her would somehow break the spell. Unsure of what to do with her hands now, she propped herself up just slightly onto her elbows, looking down at Clark. The way they moved, kissed her, she bit down again on her lower lip, fighting the urge to tell Clark how wet she was.

Clark

Clark was allowing themselves to go slow, not even in a teasing way. They were exploring the skin they had access too, their body humming with the electricity still as they placed a kiss right underneath the bottom of the girls bra as they allowed one of their hands to wrap around the girl, wanting to stay wrapped around her for a moment as they enjoyed how close it made them feel before eventually undoing the girls bra. Lifting their head slightly, they reached up between them, slowly pulling down the girls bra strap with just their finger tips, not once allowing her hand to leave the girls skin until they had reached the end of Beka's arm and removed the strap completely before repeating the action on the other side. She licked her lips but held back the growing want to devour the girl beneath her and instead slowly leaned down as they cupped one of the girls breasts in their hand, gently sucking one of the girls hardened nipples into their mouth, moaning at the taste of the girls skin on their tongue.

Beka

Beka helped as best she could at shifting her weight to allow her bra to be removed more easily, the anticipation building inside of her feeling like a slow burn. She sucked in a sharp breath as Clark finally made contact with her nipple, again moving her hand to the back of Clark's head, she ran her fingers through their hair, gently, encouraging them to keep going. She licked her lips, wanting to stop time.

Clark

Clark hummed as Beka's hand found it's way to the back of their head again. The girls fingers running through their hair was driving them crazy. They didn't know they liked their hair played with until this very moment and fuck they didn't want to move because of it. But after a moment, they did, only to slowly kiss across Beka's chest to give her other nipple the same amount of attention, their tongue playing with the metal piercing the girl had in it. Once they had given each nipple the same amount of attention, the moved their way back to the middle of the girls chest again before looking up at the girl as they very slowly kissed their way down the girls torso, only stopping at the top of the girls pants still fastened and closed preventing Clark from going further.

Beka

Beka couldn't hold back any longer, a moan escaping her lips, she let her eyes close and her head fall back. She wanted more, needed more. She lay back completely, freeing up both hands to touch Clark, to encourage, entice. "I want you." She whispered into the air, unsure if Clark could hear her or not.

Clark

Clark hadn't had anything to drink that night. Hadn't touched their powder. They were completely sober. But at this moment, they were intoxicated by Beka. The girl pulled them in and they couldn't get enough of her. They pulled back just enough to reach between their bodies to release the top of Beka's jeans before wrapping their arms around her to pull down both the girls jeans and underwear all in one fell swoop. They were not happy that they had to sit up more to do so, pulling away too far that Beka couldn't continue to play with their hair. But as soon as the offending article of clothing was gone, Clark pulled the girl into them, moaning at the smell coming from the girls core. It may have been dark, but Clark could tell the girl was wet and hearing the soft works coming from Beka, Clark licked her lips. "You have me" they whispered back before dipping their head down far enough to lick one long swipe through the girls core, moaning at the taste on her lips as they did so.

Beka

It was a strange feeling, because as badly as she wanted this, as much as she needed it, she had to fight the urge to pull Clark up, away from giving her real pleasure and back into a kiss. Her lips felt cold and lonely, but Clark was making every other part of her body tingle with pleasure. She spread her legs a little wider, her hands working their way into Clark's hair, still working their scalp gently, lightly. She moaned, unable to muster the energy to stop herself any longer.

Clark

Clark took their time. The scent they were breathing in and the taste that was dancing around on their tongue was intoxicating. They didn't want to pull away. But they didn't want to rush things either. Everything felt different. They wrapped their arms around the girls legs, pulling her in closer to them. Their tongue explored the girls core, lapping up at the juices coming from her, dipping inside of her to get an even better taste before moving up to circle around her swollen bud. It was like they were seeing Beka for the first time and they wanted to take in every inch of her.

Beka

Beka looked down, moaning at the sight and rolling her hips up. She had been so turned on before they'd even reached this moment, that she knew it wouldn't take her long to cum. "Clark..." She whimpered, her hands still working through their hair as she curled her toes tightly trying to stave off the impending orgasm just a little bit longer.

Clark

Clark looked up at the other girl from their spot between the girls legs and moaned again. They saw the want in the girls eyes. Not the lust or the need but the want. And all Clark wanted to do at this point was give it to her. Pulling one of their hands around, Clark slowly pushed two fingers inside the girl before setting a quick but steady pace. Once they set a pace, Clark moved up the girls body again to press their lips against the other girls once more. "Cum for me. Please" they whispered out against the girls lips as their fingers curled upwards inside of the girl. "You're so beautiful" they husked out as they continued kissing the girl. "Cum for me please" they stated once more.

Beka

This kiss was the most urgent of the night, Beka's hands grabbing for Clark, pulling them in like she needed their lips on hers to breathe. It had been less than 10 minutes since their lips had parted, but Beka was already addicted, this was better than any drug she'd ever done. Her breath came out in short bursts and she whined into the kiss as her body began to shake, pleasure taking over her. "C-Clark..." She managed to get out, not wanting to break the kiss for one second longer than necessary. Her legs clamped together against Clark's hand as her orgasm washed over her, hard and fast.

Clark

Clark swallowed the girls moans as they felt Beka fall over the edge, her walls clamping around their fingers as they continued to thrust them in and out of the girl beneath them. The kiss was the most intoxicating one of the night, the energy and electricity from their earlier kiss plus the passion and lust of the orgasm made Clark’s head spin as they continued helping Beka through her orgasm, wanting to give her another one just as powerful. But it wasn’t because they wanted a high orgasm count. Not tonight. They just wanted Beka to feel every single emotion Clark was feeling at this moment and they didn’t know any other way to do that except to pour it into their kiss and push Beka to fall over the edge again at their touch.

Beka

As her first orgasm subsided, Beka kept her legs together, the sensation of Clark’s fingers still inside her as her knees touched along with the spell of their kiss made her feel wine drunk. Cloudy and foggy in the best possible way. Could it be that there was something better than getting high? She bucked her hips up against Clark’s hand, urging them to keep going, refusing to break the kiss again.

Clark

Clark nipped at the girls lower lip as Beka bucked up into them. They tangled their tongue with the others again as they curled their fingers inside of the girl beneath them, their movements slower but deliberate. They weren’t trying to rush what was going on between them but at the same time, they wanted to take it all in all at once. They pulled out of the girl just enough before adding a third finger, moaning at the way Beka’s back arched up into them as they did so, their skin tingling everywhere Beka’s body touched them.

Beka

Beka’s fingers gripped into Clark’s shoulders as they added a third finger, that feeling in the lower pit of her stomach beginning to swell again. A sharp moan, full of wanting, fell from her lips and she let her legs fall apart again, her hands sliding down over Clark’s back to their waist, pulling them closer, rolling her body so that their stomachs brushed against each other, the feel of Clark’s soft skin causing Beka to groan again, she had never wanted anyone in this way before.

Clark

Clark was cursing the clothing still on them at this moment. All they wanted was to touch every inch of the other girl with their skin. If they had a free hand, they may have reached down to push their jeans off but at the moment, they were to focused on how Beka was reacting underneath them. Clark rolled their hips into their hand, giving them a little extra push into the girl, as they broke the kiss only momentarily to catch their breath, burring their face in Beka's neck, leaving behind a trail of kisses up her neck and jawline for a moment or two before bringing their lips back together, moaning as they reunited.

Beka

She bit down softly on Clark's lower lip as they upped the pleasure, her hands slid  further down to Clark's ass, squeezing just slightly more forcefully than the rest of her actions had been so far, before moving back up to Clark's waist, then up their body, fingers brushing over their abs, stopping briefly at their still-covered chest, and then finally cradling the sides of their neck and back into their hair. A soft whimper of protest escaped her as Clark moved their mouth away from hers, though she did take advantage of the moment to take a good, deep breath before their lips were reunited.

Clark

Clark shivered at the feeling of Beka's hands along their body. They felt like they were on fire though the goosebumps covering their body said otherwise. They felt Beka's walls tighten around their fingers and they did their best to focus on keeping up their pace. But Beka's lips. God her lips. Nothing had ever made them feel this way before. Nothing. Not alcohol. Not drugs. Not sex with random strangers. Nothing. This was a high they had never experienced before and they didn't want to come down ever. They rolled their hips into the girl again, curling their fingers as they bottomed out and moaning at the feeling of Beka surrounding them. They themselves were so close to the edge that they were sure they would fall over it without even being prompted to at this point.

Beka

As her second orgasm loomed closer, she allowed her kiss to become a little more urgent, more hungry, but she had no urge to grab Clark, to make anything faster or rougher, she played with their hair softly, while her left hand came down to cup their jaw tenderly. Her toes began to curl again as the muscle in her lower body tightened up, she kept her hips rolling to match the pace of Clark's fingers, but this was it, she began to unravel once more.

Clark

As they felt Beka begin to fall over the edge again, something happened that had never happened before to Clark. As Beka arched into them, falling over the edge in pure bliss, Clark followed them as well, wave and wave of pleasure washing over them as they moaned into the other girls mouth, their hips rolling into Beka's as they, together, rode their highs with each other, everything feeling so much more intense than normal. Clark felt the urge to cry for a moment, though did their best to keep it at bay. Everything was intense and electric and all Clark could do was focus on the girls lips. It was like they were safe. They were home.

Beka

Beka grabbed on to Clark, afraid that her shaking would push them away, her body tensed completely, and finally relaxed completely and her skin prickled from every nerve. She relaxed back against the mattress, holding on to the kiss for just a few more moments, seconds, minutes before finally releasing Clark's lips with a final tender peck. She never would have ended it if she hadn't so badly needed to catch her breath, her lips feeling immediately cheated again. She turned her head as she tried to breathe normally, afraid to catch Clark's eye just yet.

Clark

Clark rested their head against the side of the girls head as she turned away to breath. They too were breathing hard, their hot breath falling on the girls neck as they did so. Their body still shaking some as they came down from their own orgasm, their tongue swiping along their own swollen lips as they tried to process what they were feeling at the moment. They remained like that for a moment, quiet, breathing heavily, as things around them began to calm down for a moment. They could tell by the light around them that the sun would be up soon and whatever magic was swirling around them at this moment would disappear as soon as it did. But Clark didn't want the night to end. So they pressed their lips lightly against the girls temple, just enjoying the moment a little longer.

Beka

When she could finally breathe normally, Beka turned, shifting them both so that for the first time in the night, she was on top, hovering over Clark. Their eyes met and Beka reached down, pulling Clark's hand up and wrapping her lips around the fingers that had just been inside her, sucking gently, her eyes never breaking contact with Clark's, just to remind them, to remind herself, that she was still her, that they were still them, that nothing had changed. Even though everything probably had. Without a word, she released Clark's hand, and lowered herself for another kiss.

Clark

As Beka shifted, Clark followed her lead, not wanting to break the spell surrounding them. As they did so, Clark pulled out of the girl but before they could wipe their hand on some nearby sheets, Beka pulled it up to her face to clean it off herself. Clark licked their lips as a moan came from them, the sight above them just as intoxicating as when she was beneath them. They wrapped their other hand around the girls neck, threading their fingers into the girls hair at the base of her skull as she kissed them again, moaning at the new taste on her lips.

Beka

Beka let her hands explore from a new angle, she straddled Clark's thigh, shuddering as her still sensitive core met the rough fabric of Clark's jeans. She rubbed herself against their legs, whimpering into the kiss at the sensation, her limbs feeling weak and heavy. One hand cupped Clark's face,  keeping the intensity of the kiss steady, while the other played over Clark's skin, grabbing gently at their waist and chest. She wanted to give Clark another orgasm, but her brain protested the idea of breaking the kiss again, assuring her she wouldn't be able to breathe properly without Clark's lips against hers.

Clark

Clark lifted their leg up slight as they felt Beka rolling her hips against it. They continued to play with the girls hair while her other hand came up to rest gently on her hip, their thumb gently running over the soft skin there. They pushed up into the girl, nipping lightly at her bottom lip in a more playful way than a hurried needy way. The kiss had set the pace for the entire evening. They weren’t about to change that pace any time soon. There was no rush. They had all the time in the world.

Beka

Sliding her hand down, Beka blindly found the button of Clark's jeans, working them open and the zipper down, she slipped her hand inside the boxers beneath the jeans, finding their clit, already slick from earlier. She teased at the swollen bud, stroking it with the pad of her fingertip, she lowered herself as much as she could without falling, her bare nipples grazing over Clark's skin and sports bra.

Clark 

Clark felt their entire body heat up as Beka’s hand made its way down their pants. They rolled their hips upwards into the girl as a moan came from their lips into the kiss. They arched their back into Beka, wanting to feel as much of the girl as they could, their hands moving to run along the girl’s skin, tracing the muscles along her back.

Beka

At Clark's encouragement, Beka slipped a finger inside them, angling her hand so that her thumb could rub tight circles against their clit. She moved slowly, lingering, really feeling - perhaps for the first time - what Clark really felt like. She pulled away from Clark's lips, to kiss down to their chin, down their throat, to their chest. She used her free hand to clumsily push the fabric of the sports bra upward and out of the way, her other hand still working Clark's core steadily, before dipping her head and swirling her tongue around Clark's nipple. She loved Clark's chest, found something so unbelievably sexy about it, but even as she sucked and nipped at it, she longed for Clark's lips too badly to stay away for too long.

Clark

Clark whimpered first the first time that night. The sudden need for Beka overwhelmed them and they followed the girls lips as far as they could until they were pulled away from them. They’re head fell back and their eyes closed until they realized they didn’t like it. They felt disconnected and that was a dangerous place to be right now. Opening their eyes again, they looked down, moaning at the sight of Beka on their chest. But when Beka looked back up to them, they couldn’t take it any longer, reaching down to pull the girl back up into the kiss, a small whimper as their lips reconnected, their hips rocking along with Beka’s slow movements in and out of them.

Beka

Beka relaxed into the kiss, feeling whole again as their lips met. Who was she? What was this? She didn't care, it didn't matter, this moment would never end, it couldn't. She slipped a second finger inside Clark, keeping her pace slow and smooth, but stroking more forcefully against Clark's clit with her thumb. She wanted to feel them unravel. She dragged the tip of her tongue playfully across the roof of Clark's mouth, teasing, grinding herself harder against their thigh. In just a second she'd be on her third orgasm with very little effort.

Clark

Clark bucked their hips upwards as a second finger was pushed inside of them. They moaned into the kiss, their hands going back and forth between cupping the girls cheeks and exploring her back. “Please” the husked out into the kiss, not wanting to break it at all but feeling how close they were to falling over the edge. And with that word, it was almost like a damn broke. Beka curled her fingers just right and Clark arched upwards, moaning into the kiss as their orgasm washed over them again, their leg pressing upwards into Beka’s core.

Beka

For the second time that night, Beka reached her climax at the same time as Clark, crying out into the kiss, muffled by Clark’s life-giving lips. She shuddered, but kept her hand moving through Clark’s orgasm, wanting them to feel every bit the same amount of pleasure she was feeling. Finally, she collapsed onto her side, completely spent. She’d gone many rounds more than this before, but tonight everything in her was done, she could not have expended any more energy if she tried, though her weakened arms pulled Clark to face her anyway, unwilling to give up their lips just yet.

Clark

Clark felt like they had died and gone to heaven. Their body shook as they road out their high, their hands gripping at Beka’s back as they did so, their lips not once leaving Beka’s. Eventually Beka fell to their side and Clark was laying there, breathing heavily as their body continued to flutter in aftershocks. Feeling Beka’s hand on their face, they turned to them, smiling at the exhausted look on the girls face before leaning in and kissing them softly, tenderly, with no rush or lust or need. Just the two of them and their lips pressed together lightly.

[pllsetskyonice]

so come a little closer

Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky

1,848 words

Yuri only opens his bedroom window to get some fresh air in. He doesn't expect to find out that his hot neighbours are sitting shirtless in the garden next door, and he certainly doesn't expect to get invited over.

AO3 link

Seriously, fuck this weather.

It’s day two of a heatwave that’s come out of nowhere after weeks of nothing but grey skies and rain, temperatures soaring on the thermometer and each day dubbed ‘hottest day of the year so far’ on the weather forecast. Logically, Yuri knows he should be happy that it’s nice and sunny and that he doesn’t have to spend his life dressed in a hoodie with the heating on, but Yuri doesn’t deal particularly well with heat. He never has. He’s better than he used to be, for sure – when he was little he used to get absolutely beside himself when summer came around – but he still reaches for the factor fifty every time the weather forecast predicts temperatures above twenty degrees.

He gets up leisurely, has a shower, gets dressed, changes his bedsheets, opens the blinds. His bedroom is at the back of the house he shares with Mila and Georgi, and his window is practically the length of one entire wall. It’s not a great view, just of the backs of the houses that back onto theirs and the gardens of the houses either side, but the light is always great in his bedroom, so Yuri isn’t complaining.

He doesn’t particularly plan to leave the house today, but supposes he should at least to attempt to get some fresh air, so he opens the window. In doing so, he happens to glance across to the garden next door, and –

Oh.

Sitting on chairs soaking up the sun’s rare appearance, sipping from drinks and listening to music, are a couple of guys. Topless guys. Hot topless guys.

Perhaps this weather isn’t so bad after all.

Yuri’s aware he has neighbours, sure, but he’s barely seen them apart from if they’ve been leaving the house at the same time to go to uni or put the bins out. He’s never met them. And he certainly never knew that they were so attractive.

Hot or not, he probably shouldn’t be staring, so Yuri scoots away from the window and frantically texts Mila.

11:23 WE HAVE HOT NEIGHBOURS

11:23 WHY HAVE WE NEVER MET THEM

11:25 ohhh are you talking about jj and otabek?

11:25 if they’re the ones that live to the right of our house then yes

11:25 yeah that’s them

11:26 BITCH YOU KNOW THEM? WTF WHY HAVEN’T YOU INTRODUCED ME?

11:27 I barely know them, I met them once at a party through a mutual friend

11:27 you should go over!

11:28 absolutely not

11:28 that’s weird

11:29 so you’re just going to sit in your room and stare creepily out your window at them instead?

11:30 I’m not staring thank you very much

11:31 you sure?

11:31 …at the moment

11:32 knew it haha

11:32 seriously though, you should go over, I’m sure they wouldn’t mind

11:33 I’m not convinced

Yuri sighs and puts his phone down, moving back over to the window. They’re still there, and Yuri can hear the music they’re playing faintly through his open window. They’re still there with their dark hair styled with undercuts and their toned muscles and their abs, and – oh shit.

One of the guys is looking back him.

Every fibre of his being wants to run away from the window, leave the house, the city, the country, the world, but something makes him stay put. The guy exchanges a look with the other one and stands up, walking over to the fence that separates their two gardens.

“Hey!” he yells. “You busy?”

“No,” Yuri calls back. “Why?”

“You want to come over?”

Yuri doesn’t even hesitate. “Okay!”

“Great!” the guy yells. “Bring drinks, yeah?”

“Sure!” Yuri gets up and starts shoving things into a bag, namely his phone, the two half full bottles of flavoured vodka he’s got lying around and some lemonade. He quickly slips on some shoes, runs downstairs and out of the door. He walks down the drive and up next door’s, going down the side of the house to the gate that leads to the back garden. The gate is a wrought iron affair, so they see him coming, the guy who yelled at him across the fence wandering over to unlatch it for him.

“Hey,” Yuri says as he walks into their back garden. “Thanks for inviting me over.”

“No worries,” the guy says. “Shouldn’t be sitting inside on a beautiful day like this. I’m JJ, this is Otabek.”

The other guy – Otabek, Yuri mentally corrects – gets up from his chair to greet him. Now that he’s looking at them up close rather than through a decidedly grubby window, Otabek definitely is, at least in Yuri’s opinion, the hotter of the two. “Hey,” Otabek says. “It’s nice to meet you, um…”

“Yuri,” Yuri supplies. “It’s nice to meet you too.”

They look at each other for a few moments, Otabek’s dark eyes seeming like they’re intently searching for something in Yuri’s own. Behind them, JJ clears his throat rather pointedly. “Do I need to leave you two alone?” he asks. Otabek breaks from Yuri’s gaze, going over to sit back down on his chair again.

“No,” Otabek replies. “I think we’re good for now.”

For now. Yuri smirks at that, then remembers that he’s brought drinks over. He takes his bag off his shoulder and pulls out the bottles. “Where do you want…?”

JJ directs him to a cooler sitting in the shade by the back door. He gets Yuri a chair and they all sit down together, discussing what they’re studying, where they’re from, what their housemates are like. Their housemate Leo, Yuri discovers, has gone to the supermarket with his boyfriend Guang Hong to pick up barbecue supplies and more drinks. A few other people are coming over later, apparently, once they’re out of work or uni.

Yuri decides that he should probably put some sunscreen on to save his pale skin from getting burnt, so reaches for his bag and pulls out the bottle. He quickly squirts some out and starts rubbing it into his skin, trying to make sure he isn’t left with any smears of white left on his skin. Once he’s done, he puts the bottle away and sits back in his chair, but not before he notices that Otabek is looking at him a little oddly.

“What?” Yuri asks.

“You missed a bit,” Otabek replies. “Here – let me –” he reaches out and wipes away a smear of sunscreen that Yuri didn’t manage to get rubbed in on his face. “There you go.”

“Thanks,” Yuri mumbles, giving Otabek a shy smile. Otabek gives him a small smile in return and they stay just simply looking at each other for a while and Yuri is convinced that yes, there’s definitely something between them.

There’s the sound of the gate opening and voices coming around the side of the house, making Yuri break away from Otabek’s gaze. Two guys appear, evidently Leo and Guang Hong from the barbecue supplies they’re carrying. They share greetings with everyone and start setting up the barbecue, JJ wandering over to help out.

Otabek gets up and walks over to the table by the back door, where a laptop and a set of speakers are placed. He scrolls through the music library, queuing up a few more songs before taking his phone out of his pocket and throwing it in Yuri’s direction, which Yuri just manages to catch by the tips of his fingers. “Add some songs to the playlist,” he says. “Whatever you like.”

The phone is unlocked, so Yuri immediately starts scrolling through Otabek’s extensive music collection, adding a couple of songs here and there. It’s a vast library, songs and albums from all different genres and artists and time periods, everything from classics like Bohemian Rhapsody to obscure indie bands Yuri’s never heard of before.

“You like your music, then?” Yuri asks as he passes Otabek’s phone back.

“Yeah,” Otabek replies. “It’s what I’m doing my degree in and I DJ in my spare time.”

“You have a club night, that’s hardly just doing it in your spare time,” Leo says with a roll of his eyes. “Bet you’re gonna be famous one day.”

“You have a club night?” Yuri asks. When Otabek uttered the phrase ‘I DJ in my spare time’, Yuri had visions of him playing shitty student house parties pretending like he’s the next Hardwell or something, but no, Otabek is far away from the stereotype of the wannabe student DJ. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, I do,” Otabek says. “Thursdays at GOLDEN. You should come along, I’ll add you to the guestlist.”

At the same time Yuri says, “That’d be nice”, there’s a chorus of indignant shouts from over by the barbecue, all of them sounding rather unimpressed.

“What the fuck, Beka –”

“- number of times we’ve asked to be added to the guestlist –”

“- oh no, it’s fine, we’ll just carry on paying entry like plebs –”

“- just because you want to get in his –”

“Guys!” Otabek shouts. “Calm down, would you? I’ll try and get you added as well.”

JJ, Leo and Guang Hong go back to the barbecue and Yuri turns to Otabek with a suspicious look on his face. “Are you actually going to add them?”

“We’ll see,” Otabek shrugs. “They’re not special like you are.”

Yuri feels himself blush.

He blames it on the sun.

-

Later that evening, when the sun has gone down and all that’s left of the barbecue is a pile of ash, Yuri decides it’s probably time he made a move back to his own house. He starts to collect together his things, leaving behind the now empty bottles of vodka he brought over for them to put in their recycling. JJ has gone over to his girlfriend’s and Leo and Guang Hong are at the other end of the garden lying on a blanket looking at the stars or some other ridiculously sappy shit, so it’s just Otabek Yuri has to say goodbye to.

“You going home?” Otabek asks when he notices Yuri putting his things back into his backpack.

“Yeah,” Yuri replies. “I’ve had a really nice day, though.”

“Me too.” They stand in silence for a moment, neither of them wanting to say goodbye. “Can I get your number?”

Yuri quickly keys his number into Otabek’s phone, ringing himself so he’s got Otabek’s number too. “Guess I’ll see you around, then.” Yuri turns to go, starting to walk towards the gate, when –

“Wait.” Otabek grabs hold of his hand and Yuri turns back to face him. “You can’t go yet.”

Yuri doesn’t even get the chance to ask why because Otabek’s kissing him and this is everything Yuri has wanted all day and more. It’s a perfect first kiss, lasting just the right amount of time, Otabek running his fingers through Yuri’s long hair.

“I’ll text you,” Otabek murmurs when the kiss is over. “See you on Thursday, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Yuri says with a smile. “See you Thursday.”

next chapter >>

[thing-you-do-with-that-thing]

Never Letting Go

Characters: Sam Winchester, Y/N Y/L/N, John Winchester, Dean Winchester, Mary Winchester, Y/N’s parents

Pairing: AU Sam x Reader

Warnings: Character death, mention of alcohol abuse, John being a bad parent, Dean being an awesome brother, mention of domestic abuse, mention of rape, mention of character death - None of it graphic!   

Word Count: 1200ish

A/N: So this turned out way different than I planned. Sorry I didn’t include Destiel after all Beka. I promise I will make a drabble out of that moment we talked about at some point.

This is written for @impala-dreamer One Prompt for All Sam Challenge. The prompt was “I promise I won’t let go”

Also I aimed for fluff which I clearly missed by a mile. Apparently I can’t write Sam without some degree of angst! Sorry!

Thanks to the always amazing @blacktithe7 for betaing this.

***My fics are not to be saved nor posted on any other sites without my express written permission.***

Sam Winchester was like a lost kid when he met Y/N. He felt guilty for all the things his brother had sacrificed for his happiness, so much so that he was starting to doubt Stanford Law was really what he wanted. You see, Sam Winchester didn’t come from an ordinary family. He came from a family with a father that blamed him for the death of his mother while he took everything he felt Sam did wrong out on his older brother Dean.

When Sam was 6 months old, his mother had taken the eyes off the road for one brief moment to look back at her crying baby. Just long enough for the car to sway into oncoming traffic before a honking horn made her overcorrect, steering right into a huge oak just a few miles from their home. Sam didn’t remember any of this of course, but his four year old brother did. Before telling the cops, Dean did something no kid should ever have to do. He unfastened his brother’s seat belt and carried him from the wreck before the vehicle caught fire. He saved his brother’s life, but Dean never saw it like that. He remember the smell of burning flesh and his mother’s screams. More than that, he remembered the dead look in his father’s eyes; the hate he looked at his baby brother with, when Dean told the police what had happened.

Sam never blamed Dean for anything. There was nothing to blame him for. Dean never stopped taking care of his little brother. He never stopped saving him, even when it was from their own father. Sam was the one he blamed, but Dean was the one he took all his anger out on. Dean was the one promising he was okay, and Sam didn’t had to worry when blood streamed from his nose or bruises covered his body.

The second Dean had turned 18, he was out of the house, but not without his brother. Dean worked two jobs to support himself and Sam since he never saw a dime of the child support. John kept drinking away. Sam always felt terrible when Dean came home tired, yet still willing to help him with his homework. Sam felt even more awful when he got offered a scholarship to Stanford, and Dean didn’t hesitate uprooting his life to move to California with his baby brother. Dean got the two of them an apartment, working his ass off at the local garage, making sure Sam didn’t have too.

Sam had wanted to become a lawyer for as long as he could remember, but even if he had been offered a full scholarship, living in a college time was expensive, not to mention books. Sam knew Dean was already in debt, and he hated when he joked around saying “Yeah well Sammy, all the more reason for you to become a lawyer. I need you to keep my ass out of jail.”

Had it not been for the Y/H/C haired girl who had spun straight into his arms at the Halloween party his best friends Jess and Brady threw, he might never have gone. For the first time in a long time, Sam smiled, dancing with the laughing carefree girl in his arms. For the first time in a long time, he felt like he made a difference for someone as he held back her hair, waiting for the alcohol to exit her system in a rather unpleasant way.

He had stayed with her on the floor as she whimpered, gently rubbing circles on her back, trying to make her relax, just as his brother had done for him when he had been sick as a child. He knew the importance of that little gesture better than anyone, and he smiled as Y/N laid down on the floor, resting her head in his lap.

“I’m never drinking again,” she sulked, making Sam laugh, giving her hip a small squeeze.

“You want me to remind you of that next party?” Sam grinned down at her, making her pull a face at him.

“Hey! I am not some brainless partygirl you know,” she pushed herself up into a seating position before nearly falling back down, only prevented by Sam’s steady hands.

“I never said you were,” Sam offered apologetically, relieved when she sighed deeply, shaking her head for him to forget it. Somehow Sam managed to get her off the freezing bathroom floor and into bed. He tugged the covers around her, turning around to leave the room when she reached for him.

He hesitated for a moment, not really sure what to do. She was still drunk, and while helping her to her on campus apartment was one thing, crawling into bed with her, even if they were both fully dressed, was another. The look in her eyes was what made him decide. She didn’t look like the happy girl who had been twirling around on the dancefloor earlier with her arms wrapped around Sam’s neck. She looked sad and broken, like someone who just needed to be held. So that was what Sam did. He crawled into her bed, wrapped his arm around her middle, and pulled her back against his chest.

She didn’t look at him as she quietly started talking, confiding her life history to this total stranger. Sharing with Sam how she had been on the run from her father most of her life. She told him how her mom had covered windows, never letting her bring home friends, and never staying in the same place for long, while always looking over her shoulder to make sure the man that beat and raped her wasn’t coming for them. He was, and he did find them. 5 years ago today. 5 years ago, Y/N’s mom had given her life to protect her from the man she had been running from her entire life. Her mother’s killer and Y/N’s biological father had been sentenced to serve life in prison, but that didn’t stop the nightmares from haunting her, especially on this one night of the year.

“I don’t wanna go to sleep,” she confessed, admitting she was scared of what nightmares that would haunt her, and Sam pulled her a little closer.

“Nothing is going to happen to you. I promise I won’t let go,” he whispered softly against her ear, smiling when he felt her shiver slightly, and the hint of a smile on her face when she drifted off to sleep. Sam didn’t let go, and part of him knew he never would again. She was special, and she needed someone, like Dean had always been there for him. Sam could be the rock she needed and the light in her dark. He would never let go of her again for as long as she would allow him to hold on to her.

Sam Tag Team (CLOSED)

@mysupernaturalfics @blacktithe7 @percywinchester27 @iamnotsaneatall @jpadjackles @atc74 @crushing83 @ellen-reincarnated1967 @fuckyeahfeysand @deanxfuckingadorablexwinchester @d-s-winchester @feelmyroarrrr @sleep-silent-angel @kayteonline @hexparker @starswirlblitz @faith-in-dean @knittingknerdy @lenaabs @petrovadixon @blanketmadeofstar @idreamofhazel @arryn-nyxx @winchester-writes @tas898 @mogaruke @emoryhemsworth @tennesseewhiskey-and-pie @supernatural-jackles @riakie @adriellej @dance4angels @castielsbecky @charliebradbury1104 @jayankles @mouselovesmusic @nothin-after-79 @im-most-definitely-fangirling @dudalleo @ivvitm1109 @sinbadcat83 @winchesterprincessbride @captainradicalpassion @mrswhozeewhatsis @brooke-supernatural16 @haleyhay96 @mamapeterson @spn-fan-girl-173 @be-amaziing @sandlee44 @roxy-davenport @bringmesomepie56 @gecko9596 @gecko9596 @jensen-jarpad @deansleather @caffeine-countingstars @yoursmilemakesmeloveyou @icequeen1371 @phoenixia67 @chaos-and-the-calm67 @brihughes4 @aiaranradnay @secretsandlove81199 @findingfitnessforme @muliermalefici @bemyqueenofdarkness @anna1012131@capsheadquarters @moonstar86 @ashleydivine @smoothdogsgirl @courtney-elizabeth-winchester @spnmariiscake @tia58 @cobrakai1967 @district-12-erudite @wildfirewinchester @im-a-light-child @itsmyeffingstory @maui137 @itsbubbaog @sweetmisseddreams2002 @weasleywinchester-blog @oneshoeshort @jtink27 @gemini75eeyore @fatalcrossbow @laurenisnot @babygirlamby @supernaturallymarvellous @beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep @impalaimagining @samwinjarpad @snarkpunsandsarcasm @awesomenursingstudent @immawinchestersgirl13 @eccentricsammy @fallen-castiel

[kerahlekung]

Azeez kena londeh kaw2 dalam debat TH...

Azeez kena londeh kaw2 dalam debat TH....

Belit punye belit...sampai diri sendiri terbelit... Azeez ni punya belit.. Tak tahulah pening mabuk ketum atau mabuk laut? Duit yg UMNO bagi kononnya zakat itu kamu serah kat Tabung Haji. Tabung Haji bukan Tabung Zakat. Tabung Haji itu mengurus simpanan org islam nak pergi tunaikan haji, Bukan nak sibuk2 dgn urusan zakat sbb yg mengurus zakat itu ialah Lembaga Zakat atau Pejabat Zakat.. Kenapa ahli politik yg sibuk2 nak agih2kan zakat, kalau tak ada tujuan politik? Atau kamu ni tak reti nak antara Lembaga Tabung Haji, Lembaga Zakat dan Lembaga Hitam? Kalau UMNO nak sedekah, sedekahlah dekat Lembaga Zakat bukan kat Tabung Haji. Kamu nak kelentong apa lagi? Kita juga tak tau dari mana punca duit yang nak sedekah tu datang..apakah duit itu dari sumbangan kilang arak atau dari Sports Toto dan Magnum,tiba nak sisimpan dlm Tabung Haji??? Lagipun Yayasan Tabung Haji tidak boleh menerima dana atau sumbangan drpd mana2 parti politik kerana itu menyalahi Akta Tabung Haji.. 

Debat secara langsung antara bekas Menteri di Jabatan Perdana Menteri (Agama), Datuk Seri Dr Mujahid Yusof dan bekas Pengerusi Tabung Haji (TH), Datuk Seri Abdul Azeez Rahim mengejutkan TTF dan para netizen apabila Azeez dilihat gagal menjawab Mujahid dalam banyak aspek yang memerlukan fakta dan perincian yang khusus.

Menurut laporan dan berdasarkan pantauan TTF sendiri, Azeez gagal memberikan “facts and figures” pada setiap poin dan isu yang dibangkitkan oleh Mujahid walaupun berulang kali mencabar Mujahid untuk berdebat dengannya.

Isu pemberian hibah yang didakwa oleh Mujahid menyalahi etika dan mendapat teguran Bank Negara gagal dijawab dengan kemas oleh Azeez walaupun isu itu menjadi pertikaian utama beliau dan kepimpinan tertinggi UMNO.

Manakala itu, isu pembelian dan penjualan aset turut gagal diperhalusi oleh Azeez dengan baik menyebabkan Mujahid mampu mencantasnya dengan mudah berserta angka-angka dan fakta-fakta berkaitan. - TTF

Undian yang dibuat oleh anak moderator debat ‘Berani Bersemuka’ anjuran Sinar Harian kelmarin, Syahredzan Johan mendapati 91.4 peratus pengundi memberikan sokongan kepada Datuk Seri Mujahid Yusof. Hanya 8.6 peratus dari 5,977 peserta poll yang dibuat anak Tan Sri Johan Jaaffar itu memberikan sokongan kepada bekas Pengerusi Tabung Haji, Datuk Seri Azeez Rahim.

Syahredzan telah bertanya kepada rakan-rakan beliau melalui twitter “Siapa menang debat semalam dengan hujjah dan fakta” ekoran debat antara bekas Menteri Agama kerajaan Pakatan Harapan dengan bekas Pengerusi Tabung Haji kerajaan Barisan Nasional itu. Poll yang dibuat Syahredzan, seorang peguam itu tamat pada jam 12.02 PM 15 Ogos malam tadi.

Para netizen juga memuji cara ayah Syahrezan mengendalikan debat itu sehingga ada yang mencadangkan beliau menjadi ‘Speaker Dewan Rakyat’ agar keadilan diberikan kepada semua ahli Dewan.

Pemegang akaun twitter bernama Ramzdhan berkata, “saya memberikan tepukan kepada ayah awak kerana mengendalikan debat dengan baik. Sangat-sangat baik. Semua orang berkelakuan baik. Dia patut dilantik sebagai Speaker Dewan Rakyat. Selepas ini letak Pasir Salak di pentas debat pula.” Ahli Parlimen Pasir Salak adalah Datuk Seri Tajuddin Abdul Rahman, ahli Parlimen Umno yang sangat aktif dalam sidang Dewan Rakyat.

Ramai juga yang memberikan komen mempertikaikan siapakah yang memberikan undi sehingga 9 peratus kepada Azeez itu. Ami_southpaw menulis, “Bodoh mana yang undi Azeez tu woi” manakala RJ pula berkata,”Mereka yang ada otak tapi tak berakal”.

Ramai yang memuji Mujahid kerana memberikan hujjah yang penuh dengan fakta dalam debat selama satu jam setengah itu dan disiarkan secara langsung melalui media sosial itu.

You will never walk alone menulis, “Hujjah YB Datuk Seri Dr Mujahid bin Yusof penuh dengan fakta. Memang terbaik dan tiada siapa dapat mempertikaikan hujah beliau.”

Isu yang dibawa oleh penyokong Azeez pula adalah kenapa kerajaan tidak mengadakan Suruhanjaya Siasatan Diraja (RCI) untuk menentukan pengurusan siapa yang lebih baik dalam mengendalikan Tabung Haji.

Amri el Wahab menulis, “Orang yang tak benar tetapi pintar bercakap sudah tentu nampak macam dia yang benar. Maka debat bukan kayu ukur siapa benar siapa salah. Siapa menang siapa siapa kalah. Dalam konteks isu TH, kayu ukur sebenarnya ialah RCI.” - MD

Azeez hanya mengulang-ulang TH ni hak Melayu, hak Islam, mesti dipertahankan, kena jaga elok-elok, jangan sampai DAP rembat! Agaknya begitulah maksud mamak Baling itu. RCI yang disebut Azeez seolah-olah mencari helah. Padahal siasatan dalaman dan penemuan mudah diperolehi melalui pengurusan LTH, lagi pun ia tidak rumit kerana kelemahan LTH hanya kerana seleweng,dan pengurusan yang tidak profesional. Seeloknya badan GLC ni tak payah dari orang politik terutama macam Azeez... - f/bk

Azeez Admitted to Putting Umno’s RM7M in Tabung Haji Foundation? That’s Illegal, Says Mujahid...

Former Tabung Haji (TH) chairman Datuk Seri Abdul Azeez Rahim broke the law when he admitted to accepting money from Umno to put into the Muslim pilgrimage fund’s foundation when he was chairman, Datuk Mujahid Yusof Rawa said. During a live debate held by Sinar Harian last night, Azeez was answering a question regarding the several police reports against him for bribes and foreign money exchange as well as the police report made by TH management against Azeez for using TH money for his political party’s affairs in 2017. Azeez said that every year TH would provide zakat, or alms, to the needy, but a drop in palm oil and rubber prices in 2017 meant this was hard to do. That’s when Azeez said he received RM7 million from Umno to be put in Yayasan Tabung Haji to give to the poor during Ramadan.

“THAT’S THE FUNDAMENTAL PROBLEM HERE. MY LEARNED FRIEND HERE IS SAYING HE RECEIVED MONEY FROM UMNO TO BE PUT IN YAYASAN TABUNG HAJI. HE CANNOT DO THAT. “I WANT TO LET EVERYONE HERE KNOW THAT YAYASAN CANNOT TAKE MONEY FROM POLITICAL PARTIES AND HE JUST ADMITTED THAT HE HAS TAKEN RM7 MILLION. THEY ARE NOT ALLOWED TO TAKE DONATIONS SO THANK YOU FOR CONFIRMING THIS,” SAID MUJAHID. “There are police reports against Azeez for misrepresenting the real financial accounts of TH. This is real and it depends on the current government if they will prosecute him or not.” Mujahid and Azeez have been going back and forth in Parliament regarding TH’s finances. Azeez and Umno, especially its Youth chief and former deputy minister in charge of the Haj fund Asyraf Wajdi Dusuki, have raised the Tabung Haji issue both inside and outside of Parliament several times. Among their claims is that TH under Mujahid had sold four of the fund’s hotels to a company, Urusharta Jemaah Sdn Bhd (UJSB), which also led to more than 600 employees losing their jobs in 2019. Mujahid had in February this year clarified that it was untrue that the buildings were put up for sale, as they were part of TH’s assets transferred to special government vehicle UJSB, under the Finance Ministry. – MMO

Azeez, Umno stoking racial hatred by implicating Guan Eng as ‘culprit’ who destroyed Tabung Haji...

Parit Buntar MP Datuk Seri Mujahid Yusof Rawa has slammed former Tabung Haji chairman Datuk Seri Abdul Azeez Rahim for turning the Muslim pilgrimage fund’s mismanagement debacle into a racial matter. In a dialogue between the two held by Sinar Harian tonight, Mujahid took issue with the Umno Baling MP for blaming former finance minister Lim Guan Eng for purportedly interfering in TH’s financial affairs during Pakatan Harapan’s (PH) 22-month administration. “These are all lies by Azeez to fool you,” said Mujahid, who was formerly minister in charge of religious affairs. “He wants the narrative to be that Lim being a Chinese is taking over the TH as he is signing off on the documents.” Azeez has been claiming that TH under the PH administration had sold four of the fund’s hotels to a company, Urusharta Jemaah Sdn Bhd (UJSB) and the undertaking was signed by Lim as finance minister. Azeez also claimed there was no government guarantees under the PH government for TH shares. Mujahid explained that the hotels and other assets were sold as they were not making a profit — with the four hotels making only 1.7 per cent in profits and bleeding TH funds. He added that there were three ministries involved in restructuring TH’s finances which were the Prime Minister’s Office, Economic Affairs Ministry and the Finance Ministry. “Not surprisingly, Azeez never brought up Datuk Seri Azmin Ali’s name, who was economic affairs minister who was also involved in TH affairs. Not to mention the prime minister's offices. “Why? Because both are Malay-Muslims while Lim is a Chinese so let’s blame him right? “Let me remind everyone that Lim wasn’t the one who made the final decision, it's the Cabinet which the majority of are Malay-Muslims. So stop these political games,” he added. Last month, Prime Minister Tan Sri Muhyiddin Yassin said in a written Parliamentary reply yesterday that assets of Lembaga Tabung Haji have not been sold off to non-Muslim companies and the fund is not being controlled by non-Muslims. In Muhyiddin’s reply to Mujahid, he added that in line with the Recovery and Restructuring Plan, uncompetitive Tabung Haji’s assets had been transferred to a special purpose vehicle — UJSB — under Ministry of Finance Incorporated. The government was forced into a bailout of TH last year that will cost an estimated RM17 billion after discovering that the fund had been in deficit, owing to financial decisions made during the Barisan Nasional administration. - MM

cheers.

Sumber asal: Azeez kena londeh kaw2 dalam debat TH... Baca selebihnya di Azeez kena londeh kaw2 dalam debat TH...