#And not just me throwing on of the many things i threw onto ezra onto Issac
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toastthewolfie · 6 months ago
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uh. Had thoughts about Issac with a prosthetic arm.
just.
in the situation where his arm almost gets cut off, it gets fully cut off. Somehow, he manages to avoid a discharge (mostly through getting a prototype prosthetic arm built for combat).
now, while he was SUPPOSED to take it extremely easy and not try to fight or operate, Issac instead proceeds to train himself into the ground (now he has justification! It’s for a stress test, and yes, the arm held up extremely well) up until he just drops like 2 seconds before someone enters the gym.
huzzah phantom limb syndrome because my motto for ocs is: you might have plot armor, but your limbs dont.
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supernaturalgirl20 · 4 years ago
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Moonlight Queen
Part 4
Pairings: Werewolf!Ezra x reader
Warnings: Smut 18+, p in v smut, oral ( female receiving), fluff.
Summary: Ezra demonstrates what being the mate of an alpha entails.
*comments and reblogs really appreciated*
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
When Ezra left, you went to his room and threw on one of his t shirts. You began wandering around his small home, books almost everywhere. One book caught your eye. You grabbed it and brought it to couch. You settled onto it throwing a blanket over your legs and began reading. This is how he found you when he got home.
“Well now, this is a sight I could get used to.”
Looking up from the book you see he has a smile on his face as he stands in the doorway. Closing the book you stand and stretch, “sorry I got caught up with reading. It’s a fascinating book.”
Glancing at the title he turns his gaze back to you, “ah yes, that is the history of our people, where we originated from, chain of command.”
“Yes I found the part on mates particularly interesting.”
“Did you now little moonshine? What may I ask fascinated you so?”
You could feel his intense gaze on you, causing the blush to travel up your neck and settle in your cheeks. Biting your bottom lip, “well the part where an alpha ruts his omega during her heat…and…that continues until she has pups. It got me thinking. You say I’m your mate, but I’m not werewolf, how is this possible?”
“Well moonshine, it’s not, there has only been one other case of this occurrence. My grandfather. His mate, soulmate which ever form takes your fancy, was human like you. It was a scandal at the time no doubt, but it was true and they lived a long happy life, which did indeed bare fruit.”
“So I’m truly your soulmate? How did I not know if this and you did?”
“You see all of us have mates, it’s the way of things here on the green. I believed I did not have one, not until a few months ago, when I had a very vivid dream of you. I knew then that you were the one. Then my lucky stars aligned and brought you to me. The instant you landed on the green I could sense you.”
You feel that fire begin to burn again deep within you. Looking him in the eyes you know he can sense it, his pupils blown in lust. He backs you into the wall, stalking you like a predator would his prey. You let out a small “uff” when your back meets the wall.
“Moonshine, I do believe we were interrupted earlier, and if it pleases you, I would very much like to pick up where we left off?”
“Yes.”
He’s on you in an instant, kissing you passionately. It’s all teeth and tongue and your delirious with need. He rips his T-shirt off you and growls at the sight of your bare form before him.
“You have too many clothes on.”
He lets out a laugh and quickly strips himself. You once again gulp at the size of him wondering how it’s even going to fit. You don’t have much time to dwell on it as he lifts you up, wrapping your legs around him, and walks into his bedroom. He lowers you onto it and slowly kisses his way up your body. Every feather light kiss he places on you sends a spark straight to your core. You’ve never felt a need like this before, wanting him to fill you completely, to consume you. He begins to go lower as he spreads your thighs wide.
“You smell divine moonshine, like sweet nectar. I’m dying to have a taste.”
As his tongue meets your core, you let out a strangled moan. He’s licking and sucking and biting and your unable to control the sounds that come from you. No man has ever made you feel like this just from his tongue. You move your hands into his shaggy hair and tug on it hard, making him growl. You can feel the vibration of it in your core and that’s all you need to send you over the edge.
“That’s it, I got you let go.”
He moves from between your legs and lines himself up, in one swift motion he buries himself inside you, knocking the air from your lungs. The stretch of him is slightly painful but it’s quickly replaced by pleasure as he moves in and out of you. His head is buried in your neck, breathing in your sent. When he moves to look at you his eyes are glowing slightly. He hits just the right spot.
“Yes…Ezra….right there..”
A switch is flipped and he becomes almost feral. He’s ponding into you again and again, and your seeing stars, your body exploding in ecstasy. You come hard screaming his name. His hips begin to falter, “where…..where do you want me moonshine?”
“Inside please….inside.”
That’s all the permission he needed as he thrust hard one last time before filling you completely. He rests his head between your breast as you come down from your high. When he does pull out you miss him, his warmth. He grabs a damp cloth and cleans you before getting into bed with you, pulling the cover over you both.
“What happens now, that we have found each other?”
“Moonshine I have loved you for a lifetime and I will continue to do so until my last breath. I will not however force you to stay with me. If you wish to leave this moon than leave you shall. If you choose to stay, I will claim you as mine, mate you, and then breed you.”
“Oh, that’s a lot to think about. Can I have some time to think?”
“Of course, take as long as you need. Now get some rest, tomorrow we can explore.”
You drifted off into the best sleep you’ve had in an age.
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smarchit · 4 years ago
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Poetry for an Heiress, chapter 10
Word count: 3k
Summary: When a duchess and her children are abandoned far from home, they must rely on the kindness of one stranger to guide them home.
Warnings: None
Notes: This is the final chapter of Poetry, originally intended to be an epilogue. To those who have stuck to this story since the beginning, thank you. I am so appreciative of the support this story has gotten. I'm sorry I made you guys wait a month for this last chapter, but I promise I have smut coming soon to make up for it. Enjoy!
~~~~~~~~
The leaves on the trees had just started to turn when you and Ezra were married. It turned out to be the last nice day of the year, with a clear blue sky and the last embrace of a warm breeze that blew through the garden.
Your mother and grandmother had wanted a spring wedding for you, as was traditional, but both you and Ezra decided on early autumn. It felt better for you two, closer, more personal.
The day of your wedding was perfect, not one single thing went wrong. It was as if Kevva themselves were smiling down upon you. 
Your children were so excited to find that they were going to be in your wedding. They could barely contain their excitement throughout the summer. Even the little trip you all took back to Muir for a few weeks to help Ezra pack his belongings and auction the farm couldn't distract them long enough from asking a million questions about the wedding. The only thing that seemed to pull them away long enough for you and Ezra to get a moment to yourselves was the promise of bringing the barn cat, Charlotte, and her six kittens back to the palace when you left. They wouldn't have to hunt for their food or sleep in the shed any longer, and the children were delighted at your allowing the cats to sleep with them.
The morning of the wedding, you woke to Marie crawling into bed with you and snuggling under your arm. 
"Mama," she whispered, "Are you awake?"
You chuckled and looked over at her, her curls messy and falling out of the braids she slept in. 
"Yes, my little bug, I am awake," you replied, brushing your knuckle along her cheek.
"I'm too excited to sleep, mama," she said, cuddling up to your chest.
"There's still time to sleep for a bit," you told her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "It's going to be a busy day. Try to close your eyes."
"I know," she said with a yawn. "Grandmother said there was going to be sweets and dancing!"
"And we don't want to miss out on that, do we?" you teased, giving her a gentle shake. 
She shook her head. "Never! Though Mr. Ezra said he would save me extra sweets if I fell asleep."
You chuckled and gave her a hug. "You won't need to call him that anymore if you don't want to. You'll be able to just call him Ezra after today."
Marie grew quiet and you looked down, wondering if she fell back asleep in your arms. Instead, she peered up at you with wide eyes.
"Can I call him papa?" she asked softly.
You brushed some of her hair away from her eyes and smiled in response. "You can if you want, little bug. That is a question for him to answer, yes? Ask him tonight if he would be alright with that."
Marie's smile grew impossibly wider and she squeezed her little arms tighter around you. "Okay, mama!"
"Now get some rest, bug," you urged her. "I'll wake you when it's time to get ready."
A few hours later, you stood in front of the large doors of the ballroom, dressed in a pale pink and blue gown, hair swept off your neck in a delicate updo. You took a deep breath as the doors opened and you walked out into the garden, the familiar path lit by several colorful blown glass luminaries, winding through the stone walkway, leading you towards Ezra.
His hand was already outstretched as you approached and he smiled broadly when you stepped onto the altar to join him at his side. 
"You look beautiful," he whispered as he turned towards you. His eyes crinkled at the corners and you swore you saw tears in his eyes as he looked at you. "I am truly a lucky man, Princess."
Together, you turned to face the officiant as she read the ceremony to you both and to the small crowd behind you in the garden. She bowed low in front of you and Ezra before throwing the marriage veil over the two of you.
Ezra chuckled once the translucent shroud was draped over your heads, partially obscuring you both from the others. "Hi," he beamed, your hands still clasped in his between the two of you.
"Hi," you replied breathlessly, gazing up at Ezra. After a moment of silence,, you giggled and looked down at your joined hands. "We need to read the vows."
"Right, right," he said with a small nod. He cleared his throat and looked down at you. You both sucked in a breath and in unison, spoke your vows.
"I promise to stay by your side, through hardship and pleasure alike, to protect and praise you always, and keep the flames lit. To love the life we have, and the life we may create together now and forever more. For our lasting legacy, until the end of time."
As the final word was spoken, the officiant lifted the veil from your heads, revealing you both as one to the waiting crowd. 
Ezra cupped your face in his hand and kissed you deeply, not caring one bit that your family was watching. He knew he loved you from the moment he saw you in the cantina, scared and shaken, trying to feed your children. He wanted to be with you, even if you didn't care for him the same way he did for you. 
You threw your arms around him and returned his kiss with as much enthusiasm as he kissed you. You had never been more sure of anything in your whole life. This was what you had been waiting for. From the night you had been told of Rion's death, you had been waiting. Nothing had ever felt more right to you than in this moment. 
Music started up around you as the party began. Your children ran towards you, wanting to be a part of the festivities as well. Marie bounced on her heels and tugged on Ezra's sweater.
"Mr. Ezra," she said softly, looking almost shy. "I have something to ask you."
"Of course, birdie," he replied, bowing at the waist to talk to her. "How about you go and get us some cake and a drink? You can ask me anything you want." He brushed her cheek with his thumb and offered her a smile.
She grinned and jumped up and down before running off towards one of the many tables laden with treats. 
"Should I be worried?" Ezra asked as he watched her grab a massive piece of pink cake and duck through the crowd towards a high top table.
You chuckled and put your hands on Ezra's arm. "No more than usual, my love."
"I doubt there's anything that could ruin this day regardless," he hummed as he kissed you again.
"Mama!" Aiden cried as he shut his eyes. "Gross!"
"Mr. Ezra," Henry said, "My bow tie came undone, will you help me?"
Ezra chuckled and pulled away from your embrace. "While I can't tie much of anything these days, what I am able to do is show you how to do it yourself. Come on."
You smiled and ruffled Aiden's hair as Ezra led Henry towards the tent where the light was better. "Mama, you're not gonna do a bunch of that kissing stuff now, are you?"
"As much as possible," you teased. Aiden made a sour face and took off running towards the party. You shook your head and bounded after him, lightly threatening him with a dance should you catch him.
***
It was a few months after your wedding that you began to feel nauseous and lightheaded during your afternoon strolls through the garden with Ezra and the children. You chalked it up to the little bug that Henry and Aiden had come down with, but after it hung around for a week or so, Ezra insisted you talk to the doctor in the physician's wing. You had an idea as to the cause of your mysterious illness, but didn't voice your suspicions to your husband just yet.  
After a quick test, the physician confirmed what you had been thinking. You were pregnant. By his calculations, you were about two months along, maybe nine weeks or so. Still far too early to feel anything, but it didn't matter to you. You loved your child so much already and couldn't wait to tell Ezra and the children. With the children, you figured that you could wait to tell them for a while longer, just in case something were to happen, but Ezra would want to know immediately.
You found Ezra reading in the bedroom, sitting in bed with a book in his lap. He looked up and grinned when he saw you enter.
"That was a quick visit," he said, holding his arm out, beckoning you to join him.
You crawled onto the bed and smiled as you cuddled up to him. "Put the book down. I have some good news to share with you, my love."
Ezra slipped the bookmark between the pages and slid the book onto the bedside table. He rearranged himself on the bed beside you and turned to face you expectantly.
You took his hand and rested it against your belly, looking at him hopefully, excitement bubbling inside you, ready to burst. "I'm pregnant, Ez," you whispered. You bit your lip, nervously awaiting his reaction. It didn't occur to you that he might be anything but elated, or that perhaps you should have told him in a different way.
Ezra blinked a few times, processing what you had just told him. It was one of the few times you'd left him completely speechless. He barked out an excited laugh and surged forward to kiss you. "Pregnant! Princess, are you telling me I--- we are going to have a baby!"
You nodded and laughed as he kissed your cheeks, your mouth, your forehead, any spare inch of your skin that he could reach. "Yes, yes! The doctor confirmed it, but no one else knows. We mustn't tell anyone just yet!"
"Of course," he said quickly, "I can't hardly believe it!" He kissed you again and rolled over, dragging you on top of him. "Another bird to add to our flock, Princess! Imagine!"
***
Your daughter made her entrance into the world one late summer night, red and wailing and perfect, only a few hours after you went into labor while on a walk with Ezra and the children in the garden. The physician had warned you months ago that it was normal if your labor was so short, given that it was your fourth child, after all.
Ezra was by your side the entire time, encouraging you and coaching your breathing as you sat in between his legs. He let you squeeze his hand during contractions, right up until the midwife kicked him out when they were mere minutes apart. 
It wasn't long at all after the nurses shoved Ezra into the hallway that they opened the door again to proclaim the good news. A healthy baby girl.
As Ezra was let back in the room, he brought his hand to his mouth when he spotted you holding your child to your breast. He sat down beside you in the bed and stared at you both in awe. 
Your daughter turned in your arms, her bright eyes blinking sleepily in the dim light from the fireplace beside your bed. Her eyes were yours no doubt about that, but she had Ezra's beautiful, perfect mouth. Perhaps one day she would have his silver tongue to match.
Most notably, and what had first taken your own breath away, was the shock of dark hair that lay against her head. However, on her hairline was a downy tuft of fine white hairs, exactly like her father's. It had brought you to tears when you first spotted it as the midwife lifted her from between your legs. 
"She's perfect, Princess," he whispered, putting his arm over your shoulder. He rested his head against your temple and stared down at the tiny baby asleep in your arms. "What should we name her?"
"Eudora," you whispered after a moment of silence, glancing up at him, waiting for his reaction. 
Ezra was quiet, and for a second, you worried you had upset him. But he slowly moved his arm from around your shoulders to grip the baby's tiny hand in two of his fingers.
"Eudora," he said quietly, his voice breaking slightly. "That is a fine name, isn't it?"
"I never stopped thinking about what you'd told me the day you pulled me out of the water," you murmured, kissing the top of your daughter's head. "About your sister."
"Poor thing," he said softly. "I wish I'd gotten to meet her."
"I wanted to honor her," you said. "And your mother, if you'd like. For a middle name?"
"My mother," Ezra replied, brushing his thumb over the back of Eudora's tiny hand. "My mother's name was Rachel."
"Eudora Rachel," you said softly as you pressed your lips to her forehead. "Welcome to the world, my sweet girl."
Ezra wiped the tears from his eyes as he watched the two of you. He hadn't stopped grinning since the midwife came out and announced her birth. He couldn't believe that this tiny bundle sleeping in your arms was a part of him. It felt as though it could all disappear if he blinked. He feared he would wake up, back on the Green, that perhaps this was a dream brought on by the toxic dust that had seeped into his blood. But it was real. 
"Do you want to hold her?" you asked, nudging him with your shoulder. You smiled at his awestruck expression as he regarded your question, nodding slowly when you passed her over to him.
"Hello, little birdie," he said softly, shifting himself onto the bed so he could rest her carefully in the crook of his arm. "Hi, sweet girl. I-- I'm your dad. Happy birthday, angel."
You leaned against Ezra's shoulder and yawned, exhausted from bringing your daughter into the world. You let Ezra's gentle voice be a lullaby as you drifted off to sleep. Tomorrow, your children and your mother and grandmother would meet Eudora. Her birth would finally be announced to the world, introducing her as the newest princess. But for now, it was just the three of you, your husband by your side, your daughter sleeping in a bassinet by the fire. And it was absolutely perfect.
The next morning, you woke with Eudora's short, wailing cries for milk, which you provided happily. You were already untying the laces on your nightgown to bare your breast to her as you moved to her little crib to carry her back to bed.
Ezra had awoken with you, or perhaps maybe he had not slept at all. He watched you feed her and then change her with rapt attention, afraid to miss even a moment of his daughter's first hours of life. 
It was still very early in the morning, the moon had not yet gone down, the sun still far from reaching the horizon. It had only been a few hours since you had fallen asleep, the clock on the mantel let you know as much. But both you and Ezra stayed awake after that until the sun rose, leaning against one another as you watched your daughter sleep soundly between your bodies.
"She's perfect," he whispered, leaning over to kiss you. "She is such a tiny little thing, I'm afraid I would crush her."
"It always feels that way," you murmured. "But you won't."
"I can't stop looking at her," he said. "She has only just seen her first sunrise and I would already shoot a man dead for even looking at her."
"That feeling will never go away either," you chuckled, glancing back down at Eudora. You trailed your fingers over the fine white patch in her hair and smiled at the thought that she would carry her father with her always.
Ezra ran his fingers over the back of your hand and leaned over to press a kiss to your forehead.
"And you, Princess, how do you feel?" he asked, settling back to look at you.
"Wonderful," you replied, with a small smile. You heard the rapid pounding of feet in the hallway outside as your children raced to meet their new baby sister. Your mother opened the door and the children poured inside, already squealing with delight.
Ezra gently scooped Eudora into his arm so the children could get a closer, careful look at her. 
You looked at the five of them and smiled fondly at the new life you now had. It felt like a dream, perfect in every way imaginable. 
After a moment, Ezra set the baby down in her bassinet and rejoined you on the bed to watch the children as they peered into her little cradle. 
"Remember that night in the garden on Muir?" he asked, lacing his fingers in yours. "When I promised you I would always be there to read you poetry?"
You smiled and leaned against him. "I believe the phrasing was something about whispering poetry between my thighs," you said, your voice hushed.
Ezra chuckled and nodded. "That was indeed the phrase, yes. And I will keep that promise until the end of my days, Princess. I will write poems for you, for the children. For this little one." He looked over at the bassinet and smiled widely before turning to you again and kissing you sweetly. "All my love, Princess. And in a hundred years, they can tell stories of us, be inspired by us, and by our poetry."
~~~~~~
TAGLIST:
@the-feckless-wonder @gallowsjoker @phoenixhalliwell @waatermelon-sugaar @huliabitch @miscellaneous-mando @lestrange2703 @seasonschange-butpeopledont @auandromedus
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calebdumes · 4 years ago
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Hello! I absolutely adore your writing!!
For a Kanera writing prompt: Kanan and Hera dancing
Please😌
Thank you very much! I really appericate it and I hope you like what I came up with! 
fandom: star wars rebels
relationship: kanan jarrus/hera syndulla
rating: n/r
word count: 1.1k
~
Her contact was late but given the number of stormtroopers out and about, Hera wasn't too surprised. The white clad troopers tended to make people move hesitantly and there were a great many of them to be found on Christophsis. So many that Hera was fairly certain that her contact wasn't going to show, not with the rebel activity spiking all over the planet, specifically right here in Tophen. The spark was catching fire and with more people flocking to the cause, the more the Empire tightened its grip. It would probably be in her best interest to call this mission a bust and head home.
But still she lingered.
Like most of the structures on the planet, the cantina was made up of heavy grey durasteel, intercut with giant slabs of crystals. The crystals that enclosed the bar were a soft rosy pink color, interlaced with gold veins that glimmered in the dim lighting. The house band was keeping the small crowd that had formed on the polished floor entertained with a lively tune that had Hera's foot tapping against her stool. If she closed her eyes, just for a moment she could forget about the war, she could imagine a time of peace, a time when she and Kanan could go out dancing and not have it be a cover for a clandestine meeting.
Beside her, Kanan's arm brushed against hers as he threw back the last remaining drops of his drink. She turned her head slightly towards him, her lekku slipping off of her bare shoulder.
Not for the first time, Hera was struck with just how handsome Kanan was. The way his amber skin looked against the opaque pink walls, the way his hair caught in the soft glow of the lights, long strands framing his face from where they had fallen loose from his bun - Hera felt her breath catch in her chest.
Tonight, he looked nothing like the roughneck she met on Gorse, dressed in a fitted black tunic that left very little to the imagination and sharp black slacks. She had no idea where Sabine had found such nice clothes in short notice but Hera wasn't going to lie, she was admiring the view.
Kanan glanced at her from the corner of his eye, arching one of his thick brows. "What?" he asked, his voice gravely from the alcohol.
"Dance with me?" she motioned to the dance floor, the beads in her form fitting purple dress sparkling in the light. Kanan's eyes dragged up her body appreciatively causing a wash of heat to dance across her face. He bit down on his lower lip before flicking his eyes out to the dance floor.
"Aren't we on the job?"
Hera gave him a little shrug. "I think we both know this mission is a lost cause." Then she smirked, running a finger down his chest. "And Sabine went through all that trouble to throw these looks together, we shouldn't waste her hard work."
Desire burned in Kanan's teal eyes. "What if I told you I don't know how to dance?"
"Somehow," she wrapped her fingers in the soft fabric of his shirt and pulled him in so that they were just inches apart. "I doubt that. But you can follow my lead if you're scared."
Kanan chuckled, his breath ghosting over her lips, stained a deep purple to match her gown. "Well if you're leading, by all means Captain Hera, let's dance."
He took her hand in his and pulled her out onto the dance floor. The light, upbeat tempo dissolved into something slower, still sweet but with a gentle and morose undercut. Kanan spun her around, the train of her dress flaring out before he pulled her in close and grabbed onto her waist.
They swayed together with the music, heat thrumming between their bodies. This time, Hera didn't have to close her eyes for the troubles of reality to slip away. It was just them. No Empire. No war. Just her and Kanan. Nothing else mattered.
The way Kanan was looking at her, like she was the most precious thing in the world, it made her knees weak. She didn't think there were words to fully express how much the man meant to her. He was so much more than just a partner or a crewmate. He was so much more than just a friend or lover. 
Kanan was the reason she woke in the morning, the air in her lungs, the blood in her veins. He was the reason she fought, the reason why she refused to give up. Kanan was so much more. He was her everything.
Hera cupped his face, her thumb stroking lovingly across his cheek. "I love you." she said. Even those three little words didn't feel like enough to express how she felt when she looked at him. She could say them a million times over, until she lost her ability to speak and they still wouldn't be enough.
"I love you too." he said before he kissed her, slow and deep, his passion matching her intensity at every turn. When they broke apart, his eyes were dark pools of heat, his lips smeared with dark purple streaks. She laughed, pulling the collar of his shirt up to wipe them away.
"Such a mess." she tutted. "I can't take you anywhere."
"What do you say we get out of here then?" he asked.
"And go where?" she responded breathlessly, her body thrumming with want.
"Wherever you want to go."
"Anywhere?"
"Anywhere."
Hera kissed him quickly before pulling him off of the dance floor. "Then let's get out of here."
Kanan followed.
*
They crew was waiting for them in the lounge when they finally docked the Phantom with the Ghost, looking slightly more disheveled then when they left. 
“What happened to your dress?” Sabine cried as Hera slipped down the ladder. She yanked at the sleeve, pulling it up over her shoulder. Kanan jumped down behind her, landing lightly on the floor. 
“Did you get the intel?” Ezra asked. 
“Yeah, I don’t they got the intel.” Zeb chucked sharing a knowing look with Kanan. He slapped him on the shoulder as he passed on the way back to his cabin. The tips of Kanan’s ears reddened. 
“Ugh.” Sabine groaned. “Gross.”
“It’s not gross Sabine.” Kanan said, pulling his hair back. “It’s perfectly natural.”
“Everything good here?” Hera interjected. 
“Yeah.” Sabine grumbled. “Everything was fine.”
“Good. Then I am going to change.” She said, pulling on the dress strap as it fell again. 
“Wait,” She heard Ezra say as she walked out of the lounge. “I’m confused. What’s gross and why didn’t you get the intel?”
“Kid.” Kanan responded. “You never cease to amaze me.”
Hera smiled to herself. Christophsis was nice but it was good to be home.
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prairiesongserial · 4 years ago
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12.13
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There wasn’t going to be a burlesque show that night for the good people of Kill Devil Hills, but the burlesque performers weren’t planning on surrendering the tent, either. They had Ezra and a new guitar player captive, and the game of the hour was trying to find a song that both of them knew and could play. Poor Cody was having trouble keeping up, missing notes and breaking rhythm with Ezra.
Friday was wearing sequined underwear, exactly as she was meant to be. She’d spent the last hour going through costumes, now that she and the rest of the burlesque performers were at a truce. It had really only been Abernathy, the red-haired woman with the pink eyepatch, who’d had a problem with her. Abernathy had disappeared with Ezra for a while to handle something or other, and while she was away, Friday had made nice with everyone else. She’d exchanged the contentious blond wig for a bubblegum pink one that was as long as her old blue wig had been - though she still had her eye on the blond. Short hair was so convenient. She’d be back for it.
“How many routines do you put on per night?” she asked as she shimmied herself into a very tight dress. The dress was cut so low it showed almost all of the black sequined bra she had on underneath. It had not been made with the flat-chested in mind.
“That depends,” said Shoshana, one of the other dancers. Friday had decided she liked Shoshana. She was dressed in a too-big button down tucked into too-big pants belted in place. Her sun-bleached brown curls were cropped just under her ears. Most importantly, she didn’t seem to have any intention of hazing Friday. Shoshana sat on top of an unopened crate labeled “heels - very high,” chewing an unlit cigarette. “We try to stick to five minutes per routine.”
“Oh, we did them a bit longer at the Ace,” Friday said. “And with music in between. Course, we were looking for the audience to stay and buy drinks all night, not tip every girl.”
Friday started to wiggle out of the dress. It wasn’t right, and there was a red one folded in the bottom of the crate that had her eye.
“That wouldn’t work here,” Shoshana said. “People hold onto their money tighter when there’s other tents still to visit - or if they saved the burlesque show for last, when their wallet’s already light. Better to get them in and out for the next round of tippers.”
A quick audience turnover sounded like a convenient set-up for any pickpockets working the crowd, but Friday decided not to say anything. Business was business.
Friday stepped into the red dress. It was made of shot silk, giving it an iridescent shimmer. It had a long slit up the side that ended at Friday’s hip. The dress had no straps, making the sequined bra look ridiculous underneath. She twisted herself to try to take it off without taking off the dress first.
“That one looks good on you,” Shoshana said. She finally lit her cigarette, as if only just realizing she hadn’t done so already.
“Thanks,” Friday said. “How nice do you think I have to be to Abernathy to keep that blond wig?”
“Pretty nice,” Shoshana admitted. “Good thing Abernathy likes me.” She took a long drag on her cigarette. “Hey, sunshine?” she called, grinning to show off a chrome tooth.
Abernathy, draped across the piano on the other side of the tent, looked up. “What?”
“I want the blond wig,” Shoshana replied.
Abernathy frowned at her. “To give to…”
“Look at her,” Shoshana said. “She’s a mess without it. Not fit to be seen.”
Friday crossed her arms. “Well, hold on,” she said.
Abernathy slid gracefully down from the piano, a hiss of air escaping from her false leg.
The roar of a truck engine interrupted the exchange. Abernathy continued to approach, but she walked past Friday without so much as looking at her. Friday followed her out of the tent. The truck was still a ways down the road, but it definitely belonged to the circus. It was the same truck that Val and Johannes had left in that morning..
Abernathy watched it approach. Behind them, the piano came to a discordant stop, leaving Cody’s guitar alone to practice the last few bars. In seconds, Ezra had joined them outside of the tent.
“Does he have any idea what time it is?” he muttered.
The truck approached quickly, spitting up dust under the tires. It didn’t rejoin the circle where the other trucks were parked, but shuddered to a halt at an angle right in front of Friday, Abernathy, and Ezra. Johannes tumbled out of the driver’s side, not bothering to close the door.
Friday’s eyes widened. Johannes was covered in ash. For a split second, she was looking at Val stumbling out of the back door of his church. Johannes strode up to Ezra and started talking quickly, but Friday’s ears were ringing. She couldn’t hear what they were saying.
“Val?” she said.
A crowd was growing around the truck as Val climbed down from the passenger side. He slammed the door closed behind him. She couldn’t see him - all she got was a passing glimpse through the windshield before the sun’s glare cut her short. Friday shouldered her way past several carnies, then finally turned the corner to face him.
She was staring the past right in the face. There were streaks of ash down Val’s cheeks. And his hair - his hair had caught fire in places. His shirt alone was suspiciously clean, as if he’d been wounded and treated and covered up again.
“It’s not even four o’clock, Friday,” he said chidingly, but with the slightest smile, as he leaned back against the truck. He averted his eyes in that infuriatingly polite way he always would when she was dressed for a performance.
Whatever Friday had been about to say to him fled her mind. Two separate memories of Val were smashed together in front of her, and it didn’t make sense. His words, even his posture, took her back to how things had been before John and Cody and the whirlwind that followed - he might have said the same thing to her some late afternoon at the church, her sitting on the edge of Val’s desk while he opened every drawer in search of the right size nail for a repair. But with ash smeared across his face, Val looked like he had stepped out of one of Friday’s worst days. She felt tears prick the corners of her eyes, and grit her teeth to hold them back, feeling lost.
“It’s for work,” Friday said, finally. She paused. She wanted to touch his face, to wipe the grime away with a sponge like she had done back at the Ace while the fire was spreading - what seemed like a lifetime ago. It had helped then, being able to do something. With Val awake, she didn’t quite dare.
“What happened to you?” she asked, uneasily.
Val shook his head. “It’ll sound worse than it was. It’s okay. I was, um, foggy for the whole thing.”
Now he looked as uneasy as she felt. Friday had blown up at him when he’d left this morning, after all.
“You’re not going to tell me?” Friday said, trying not to sound upset. She was going to add, “You got hurt,” but found that she couldn’t.
Johannes’s voice cut through the conversation before Val had a chance to reply.
“Pack it in,” he hollered to the crowd that had gathered. “The show’s cancelled. We leave in an hour.”
“We already started setting up,” Ezra snapped. “We can’t strike in just an hour. If you had told us - ”
“If I’d known earlier, I would’ve told you,” Johannes snapped back at him. “We have to move. Soon. Now.”
Ezra argued, but Friday didn’t catch his reply in the clamor from the rest of the circus. Her attention fell back on Val. She felt so angry, and so stupid. She’d let Johannes bully Val into going off alone with him, when she’d known Johannes wasn’t someone to be trusted. Now something had happened that was so awful Val didn’t even want to tell her. He looked nervously past her, and Friday wasn’t convinced it was just her outfit that had him acting so cagey.
“If I tell you, you won’t be happy,” Val said slowly.
“I’m already not happy,” Friday said, then clenched her teeth, trying to reign herself in.
“Okay, enough chit-chat,” Johannes said, suddenly in the middle of their conversation. “Ketsele, you’re with me for first aid and an emergency haircut. Friday…” He waved a hand dismissively. “Go do what Ezra tells you. Some of us were burned at the stake today.”
Johannes had begun to steer Val away, though Val shrugged out from under his arm. Friday saw red. She reached out and yanked a handful of tassels on the back of Johannes’s jacket as hard as she could, throwing him off balance and forcing him to turn back.
“What?” he yelled.
“I don’t know what happened,” she threw back. “But I know it was your fault, and I’d like to see a little remorse.”
Johannes raised his eyebrows.
“You two are very similar,” he said to Val, straightening his lapels.
“Friday - ” Val began.
“No!” Friday yelled. “I will not let it slide, and I will not accept that it ‘wasn’t that bad.’ Even if you don’t tell me. I know it was bad.” It was so bad you’re shutting me out, she thought. “Val, please. He’s not good.”
“I didn’t burn him at the stake,” Johannes argued. “What the hell did I do to you?”
Nothing, yet. Friday ignored him, looking at Val instead. He left Johannes’s side, coming to stand closer to her. She was overpowered by the smell of the ocean, sweat, and ash.
“I know how it sounds,” he said quietly. “But Johannes saved my life. I trust him.”
“I know you trust him,” Friday said, frustrated. Her eyes stung, and she couldn’t tell if it was from the smoke on Val’s clothes, or if she was about to cry. “I’m trying to tell you...he’s a con artist, okay? I know he’s grifting. I just...can’t see the big picture yet.”
Val shook his head. “Look, I have to…”
Friday grabbed the end of his sleeve.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“I got singed,” Val said, with surprising humor. “Really nothing new.”
Friday nodded, and bit her lip. She wanted to hug him, but Val was already pulling away.
He smiled at her, then turned to Johannes, following the ringmaster’s lead across the camp. Johannes tried to put his arm around Val again, but Val ducked away. Friday watched him push Johannes’s head down like some rowdy kid, then fold his hands behind his back as if he hadn’t.
“You better watch it,” Johannes said, laughing. “I’m about to cut your hair.”
Friday slowly breathed out. The crowd had scattered at the announcement that everything had to be packed in an hour. The only still bodies were three she knew: Ezra, John, and the mechanic, Enis. Ezra and Enis were talking, clearly working through a problem. John was staring right at Friday.
She thought he must be staring at something behind her until he caught her eye and looked away.
“I’m gonna go change,” Friday muttered to no one.
12.12 || 12.14
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dadolorian · 4 years ago
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Just like me - Part 4
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A/N: Something sweeter Credits: Thank you @oloreaa​ for being my Beta reader/editor !
Title: Just Like me Fandom: Prospect (2018) Ship: Ezra/Reader Warning: Mentions of PTSD symptoms Word count: 2K + Master List Request status AO3 Link Previous part Next part - coming soon
Okay, so the couch sucked. It was old, lumpy and you had no idea how Ezra had managed to sleep on it the night before. It was who knows what time in the morning when you gave in, conceding that you probably weren’t going to get any sleep that night. To pass the time you grabbed one of the many books that were strewn around the place, attempting to read by the soft glow of the lamp beside the couch, your heavy eyes protesting, demanding you sleep but you knew there was no way to get comfortable, even with the blankets Ezra had so carefully tucked you in with.
You were all but ready to sleep on the floor as you re-read the same sentence of the book for the fifth time in a row, still failing to understand what it said. You were preparing the blankets, ready to throw them to the ground when a small, muffled noise caught your attention. Closing your eyes and holding your breath to focus in on the noise, you concluded it was coming from the wall right behind the couch. Ezra’s room. It sounded like... soft whimpering, and perhaps you were a little too enamored by him, because your mind immediately conjured up some rather adult images to the sound. 
You felt guilty for those thoughts immediately however, not just for thinking of your friend that way, but because a strangled, muffled yell corrected your assumption, reminding you of one of your first, truly personal discussion with your friend. He has nightmares. You quietly, but quickly put your leg on before you even comprehend what you were doing, not wanting to listen to him suffer. You gently padded over to his room, letting yourself in silently. You couldn’t see him too well in the dark, a small amount of street light let in through the blinds only allowing you to see enough detail to make out his outline in the darkness. He was tossing and turning, panting heavily in his sleep and mumbling incoherent thoughts, but because of his frantic tone you couldn’t make any of them out. Every now and then he let out a desperate whimper or startled yelp, it broke your heart to listen to it. You could only imagine what he was seeing in his dreams. You were sitting on the edge of his bed before you even thought of a plan as to how to help him, you knew better than to wake him, and while you didn’t believe the myth that waking someone from a nightmare could kill them, you did know it could be equally as startling. But you just couldn’t bear to listen to him suffer. You reached across him and took his hand from where it lay on his chest, gently caressing his knuckles.  Brushing the hair from his face with your other hand, you smoothed the hair from his forehead, not bothered by how he was sweaty to the touch. His thrashing stopped at your touch, but the poor man was still whimpering and calling for help in his sleep. All you could think to do was shush him and comfort him with words. “Sshhhh, Ezra, it’s okay, you’re safe, I'm here,” you repeated in a whisper, the hand you were holding tightened for a moment, before his frantic mumbles and whimpered slowly died down. You weren’t sure how long it took, but you could feel him relax physically. “Angel,” he mumbled in his sleep, it sounded like a mix of relief and pleading. “Yeah, it’s me,’ you whispered back. “Just settle down, you’re safe, you can sleep.” He rolled onto his side slowly, his back turned to you, you had to relent and let go of his remaining hand as he did so, but his quiet, even breathing let you know that his nightmare had passed. You smiled in the dark, happy it was over for him. Getting up, you paused to look at his sleeping mass, you felt the urge to kiss his cheek goodnight. You knew he wouldn’t mind for you to do such a thing, he did not shy from sweet kisses to your forehead or hair when he comforted you after all, and you could imagine his smile if you were ever bold enough to try such a thing while he was awake. Perhaps it was because he was asleep that you felt so bold, stroking his hair again as you leant down to kiss his cheek. He sighed your nickname again and nuzzled himself further into his pillow. “Sweet dreams,” you whispered as you let yourself out of the room, careful not to close the door too loudly as to wake him. You collapsed back on the couch with tired grunt, trying to settle down before remembering your previous issue. Cursing quietly you threw the pile of blankets Ezra had given you onto the ground so you could situate yourself more comfortably, too tired to even bother with your leg. ‘It’s better than the couch at least’ you thought as your body slowly surrendered to sleep. 
“Morning, Dad,” Cee’s voice cut through the small living area, rousing you from sleep. “Shhhhh, she's still asleep,” Ezra whispered. “I don’t think she slept well last night, she's sleeping on the floor. I don’t want to wake her.” 
You smiled into the pillow, he was so considerate. “The couch is uncomfortable,” Cee replied, whispering too. “I know, but she refused to let me take it. Stubborn woman,” he murmured as he moved about the kitchen. “That makes two of you,” Cee teased, snickering at something, Ezra’s expression you imagined. “Are you going to work today?” she asked, changing the subject. “Not until tonight, i’m only working at the port this evening,” he answered, a soft sizzling sound filling the kitchen for a moment. “Which is why, little lady, I am up and making you breakfast.” “Pancakes again?” she asked. “You only make them when you’re in a good mood.” “Well, there’s plenty to be happy about now,” he whispered, you could hear the smile on his face. “I’ll bet,” the young girl snickered again. You could hear him flipping the pancakes, the smell made your stomach rumble.  “I must enquire, Little Bird.” Ezra sighed after a short while. “I believe I had one of my terrors again last night. Please tell me I did not wake you up again?” You heard the fridge open, followed by the sound cutlery. “Yeah, I heard, but you stopped pretty quickly.” Ezra sighed and hesitated a moment before asking, voice even quieter. “Do you think I kept her up too?” “I think she's the reason you stopped,” Cee murmured back, you could imagine the quizzical look Ezra was no doubt giving her, prompting her to continue. “I heard her moving about shortly after they started.” she admitted quietly. “I think I heard her go into your room.”  Their conversation died down after that, both trying to keep as quiet as possible as to not wake you, but you couldn’t help drifting awake every now and then as they went about their morning routine. Things were silent once more when Cee left for school, Ezra seeing her off at the door. You could hear him shuffling about, trying to be respectful of your sleep. You woke up properly close to noon. Groaning loudly as you stretched out on the floor between the couch and coffee table before struggling up onto your feet. You were glad you kept your leg on, getting up off the floor without it would have been annoying. You made your way to the bathroom, hearing Ezra shuffle about in his room. He greeted you as you came back out of the bathroom, now standing in the kitchen. “Good morning, Angel,” he smiled cheerfully. “May I interest your weary soul with some breakfast?” “Pancakes?” you asked with a tired smile, nodding your answer to him as you were trying to brush the tangles out of your bed head with your fingers. “How did you know?” he asked with a chuckle, taking the batter out of the fridge. “I heard from a little Bird that you only make them when you’re in a good mood,” you joked, sitting yourself at the counter. He paused and looked at you. “Ah, you heard Birdie and I this morning? I’m very sorry about that, we did not intend to rouse you from your slumber.” You shook your head. “It's fine, you weren’t being loud,” you reassured. “It's just I didn’t have a proper sleep last night.”  Mentally you scolded yourself at your slip, you were trying to reassure him, and here you were implying you had a terrible sleep because of your sleeping situation. He looked to the ground in shame and guilt. “Because of the couch, or because of me?” he asked. You sighed, “Travel lag catching up on me,” you lied, wanting to spare his concerns. “I was already awake last night when you had your nightmare.” He swallowed and turned back to his task of making the pancakes. “I am sorry you had to see me like that-” he began. “Stop,” you said firmly, putting an end to his self pity. “I understand Ezra. I already knew you had them, I've had them too. I know exactly what it's like. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.” He looked back at you, guilt etched on his face. “I-I imagined I would be rid of them by now.” he admitted. “It has been almost two years, there's no reason for me to-” “Keeva, stop, Ezra,” you sighed. “You went through something horrific, you had a traumatic injury, and not only that, had to deal with the result of that injury while conscious. No one expects you to be over it.”  He distracted himself with your breakfast.  “You know,” you said, bringing his attention back to you. “I still get them too sometimes? And I lost mine long before you had.” He looked back at you again, eyes wide. “Still?” he asked.  You nodded. “Of course, there's no set timeline on recovery Ezra,” you said, giving him a soft, sympathetic smile. “In fact, most of us spend the rest of our lives dealing with it. You give yourself too high expectations, you know?”  He returned your smile. “Once again, Angel, you have made it seem far less daunting, thank you.”  You beamed at him as he plated up your food. “Enjoy your lunch!” he teased as he placed the plate in front of you. You rolled your eyes at him before digging in. 
Your clothes were still wet, but Ezra gave you some more spares of his for you to wear for the time being after you took a quick shower. He was getting himself ready for his shift that night as you came out of the bathroom again. He wanted to make sure everything was ready to go so he could spend as much time as possible with you before he had to race off. Once the two of you were ready you both sat on the couch while you let your leg dry out. “I am merely sitting at a desk watching monitors, Angel,” he explained when you asked what he had to do at work. “They do not allow me to act as a proper security guard doing rounds. They say I have no formal training, and apparently getting into altercations on the Green does not count as an adequate experience,” he chuckled. “And I think of course the arm plays a deciding factor in that regard. But,I suppose I am fine with that, I don't want to be a security guard after all. I’ll take what I can get for now.” You stared at his stump for a moment from your position arm hooked over the back of the couch and resting your cheek on your arm. “Physically, you should be able to get a prosthetic now yeah?” you asked. He nodded. “That's what my doctor said. But I regret that the option is out of my reach for now. Central is an expensive place, even in this industrial district. Every point I save goes to keeping a roof over Little Bird's head, providing her with an education and food in her belly. Everything I had saved up beforehand went to medical expenses and securing this place,” he gestured around. You smiled, tucking your leg up so you could rest your chin on your knee. It was so sweet how he was giving up everything for her but you couldn't help but feel the smallest amount of pity for him because he had to give up chasing his dream. “I could help?” you offered. He smiled, ruffling your hair before kissing your temple. “You have already helped me more than enough Angel.” “I want to help more,” you said, raising your chin in challenge. “Keep your points, save them for something important,” he encouraged. “I think a prosthetic is pretty damn important Ezra.” you challenged. ‘You’re important’ you added in your head. “Angel,” he sighed. “You don’t have to-” “You’re right, I don’t have to. I want to.” “Keeva you are incredibly stubborn you know that?” he chuckled. “I’ve been told once or twice,” you smiled. He chuckled more and shook his head. “I mean it Ezra, let me help.” “I couldn’t ask that of you,” he said. “And you’re not, I'm offering,” you said, he was about to protest some more but you pressed on. “Look, I'm in a good financial situation. I haven’t had to pay for medical or living expenses while in physical recovery, I don’t have to hire pods or lodging when I work. I don't spend much when I arrive back in Central and I just had two successful trips in a row consisting of multiple jobs. So if it's the points. We’re good.” He hesitated, you could see in his eyes that he was considering it. “If this was the other way around, Ezra, you wouldn’t hesitate to do the same thing,” you cut into his thoughts with a poke to his chest.  His shoulders dropped as he sighed. “I must concede that you are not wrong there, Angel.” You gave him a cheeky smile. “Then it’s agreed, I'm buying you a prosthetic!” you cheered. “Only a standard model,” he said sternly, “ No fancy robotics or anything too high end. And I must insist that once Little Bird is off to college and I am back to prospecting that I pay you back.” “You really can be just as stubborn as me,” you chuckled. “But, it’s a deal. We can take a look at options when you get some time off work.” He sighed, leaning back on the couch. “I am afraid that won’t be for a few days Angel. I took a day off yesterday for you, my days are not usually so free.” “It’s okay, I understand,” you said with a smile. He patted your thigh, looking back at you with a smile. “I hope you can keep yourself entertained while Little Bird and I are away. I think we have a spare key should you want to venture out at all. I would hate for you to be cooped up in here all day all alone after all.” You smiled wider, trying to ignore the way his casual touch made your heart soar and cheeks heat up. “I might just do that. I haven't had the chance to spend my spoils yet. Might treat myself.” “You deserve it,” he smiled back before getting up and rummaging about one of the kitchen drawers. He laughed in success as he pulled the key out and tossed it to you on the couch. “Cee gets back mid to late afternoon. I won’t be back until late at night. I’m sure I can trust you two ladies to arrange your own dinner. Although I am afraid there is not much in terms of food in the fridge, I have not had the chance to-” “I’ll go shopping,” you interrupted, getting up off the couch and making your way over to him. “And, before you start, yes, I do have to. You are letting me crash here free of charge, It’s the least I can do,” you said, poking him in the chest again. “I don’t know why I even bother trying to argue with you, Angel,” he sighed, rolling his eyes, a smile giving away his true feelings. “Fine, just don’t burn the place down.” “Hey, I can cook!” you pouted as he ruffled your hair again and kissed your forehead. “Of course you can, Angel,” he smiled.
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voidsaber · 4 years ago
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@dragonfly-wings1​ YES YESYES OKAY TALK TO ME ABOUT THE POTENTIAL OF THIS CROSSOVER. This is technically an extension of “what if the purrgils yeeted Thrawn + Ezra into alternate sci-fi universes” idea. But you have no idea how much I want Thrawn to be in B5 land. Or how much I wanna write an AU/fusion where Thrawn is commander of B5 as a sort of political assignment the Chiss know he would suck at and inevitably fuck up because they have nefarious plot reasons for wanting it. Good thing Eli is there to help Thrawn keep his position. The Chiss were a neutral party during the Earth-Minbari war so perhaps everyone is hoping that having a Chiss in charge after the unfortunate losses of the previous stations will help prevent bad luck and smooth things out by not having any bias for either Earth or Minbar.
But the main idea is just the Chimaera arriving in B5 space (probably in Sector 14. yknow). Thrawn meeting John Sheridan. Cause like they have sooo much in common and I think about it all the time. Thrawn interacting with all the crew and ambassadors and being a pilot as well as a commander-esque figure! Kosh is Ezra’s dad/mentor figure now. Thrawn hates this. Thrawn is losing his mind at yet another galactic level threat amassing its forces and infiltrating/manipulating every species it can get its hands on and the various governments around the galaxy just fighting each other and/or ignoring it and the fact that Sheridan cant get EarthGov to listen (same hat! same hat!). The two have a lot to talk about. “What do you mean ‘telepaths’?” “I mean there’s like people who can read minds here, like the Jedi!” Thrawn having uncomfortable Vader flashbacks and steering clear of Talia and Lyta and Kosh and the PsiCorps and getting Ezra to stick near him every time Bester is on board. And Bester can’t do anything to Ezra cause this kid is Too Powerful. Thrawn being a useful asset in the War by studying what little is known about their enemy’s culture and art! Thrawn and Sheridan admiring each other’s values and tactics and respectful command! The B5 crew and Chimaera crew hanging out! Ezra meeting the Rangers and having a community he can train with! Marcus is Ezra’s dad now? (Trans dad? Trans dad!) Garibaldi not tolerating even an iota of Thrawn’s nonsense but he has to put up with him like everybody else. Londo and G’Kar desperately trying to get Thrawn onto their sides and him just being tired of all this shit. Thrawn being immersed in a world with so much to learn and a fight that he can win, even if it isn’t his galaxy and his people he’s saving!
Basically Thrawn being in a well-constructed and well-wrtten sci-fi universe that I adore with all my heart!!!
I’m not gonna say this all set into place with Sheridan’s “I’ll keep it [the art] in a place of honour” line (S3E4) but basically. BASICALLY. I wrote a teensy bit on the idea the other day but it’s rough. I just have many plot bunnies in my head that I NEED to write ;n;
"This is the White Star transmitting to unidentified vessel, please respond. You have been recorded in unchecked rotation in hypersapce. If you remain any longer, you will be set adrift. Do you require assistance?" Thrawn saw Bridger raise his brow in the corner of his vision and tilt his head towards him. He had the same question, and so did everyone on the bridge. Hyperspace? The next was this: what would they do? "This is Grand Admiral Thrawn of the Galactic Empire. We would appreciate any assitance you wish to offer." --- "Humans from outside the known galaxy? We're drifting a little too far into fairytales." Captain John Sheridan ran his hands through his hair as he looked up from the flimsy. He didn't need this today. He didn't need this any day really. "Yes sir," Ivanova responded. "To be fair, is it really that hard to believe? We've got the Shadows on one hand raging a galactic war on every member of the League with pawns on Earth, which, may I remind you, we have ceceded from, we have Delenn, who by all rights shouldn't exist either, telepaths all over the place-- and need I remind you of the wonderful mess that is Babylon 4? Go back a few hundred years and all of this would have been crazy. I'm sure the universe has time to throw in some interdimensional travellers." She punctuated her statements with her classic nod and smile, that look she threw Sheridan in the face of the familiar nonsense they dealt with every day now. He thought with the galaxy growing ever crazier she would have grown used to it, but perhaps habits died hard. He had to say, it kept him grounded in a way. Ivanova, while not always right, was constant. Sheridan hummed. He thought again to that voice, those many voices, whispered in the night from an old friend. He is arriving; the man who shares your heart.
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merrydisposition · 6 years ago
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I haven’t written properly in a long time so I apologise for how bad this is. Have a silly (and slightly NSFW) bit of nonsense I wrote with my Hunter, Julia, and Finn and Ezra from WNTC
Hidden under a cut because I haven’t posted this sorta thing in so long I’m terrified anyone actually sees it and yet I’ll tag it anyway
It had been 30 minutes since Ezra had gone to close the shop. Thirty minutes of his kind nature being used by people with pointless requests that were not urgent in the slightest. To Julia’s amusement, Finn had dramatically flopped down on the sofa and was now playing with one of the broad leaves of the many plants that lived in the back room. The page crinkled under her thumb as Julia absentmindedly flipped through the book left on the table. A book on rare medicinal herbs may have been of interest to Ezra, but it certainly had not grabbed her attention. 
“Are there still people in the shop,” Julia muttered, drumming her fingers on the table. 
“Yes,” Finn sighed. “Still two of them.”
Julia groaned, flipping the cover of the book so it closed with a bang and leaning back in her chair. For a moment she watched the way Finn’s fingers twisted around the stem of a leaf, mesmerised by his movement, when a thought occurred to her. 
“Want to bet I can distract him quicker than you can?” she grinned. 
Finn’s golden eyes flashed in the candlelight as he looked at her with a crooked smile. “Only if you’re happy to lose.” 
Before Julia could move, Finn was on his feet and had disappeared through the curtain. Julia gave chase, resisting the urge to throw back the curtain which would certainly give the game away. At that moment Ezra was on the far side of the shop beside the window, cheerfully explaining something to the two older ladies who stood before him. He briefly glanced at Finn and Julia before turning his attention back to his customers. 
Finn threw Julia a confident smile as he sauntered over to the counter, making sure he was in Ezra’s line of sight. With his un-humanly grace he leaned back on her counter, shirt open even lower than usual. He ran a hand through his hair, his mouth open ever so slightly so that his fangs were just visible. There was a brief stutter in Ezra’s speech which he expertly recovered from. Finn cast a smug look at Julia.
Julia could not resist pouting at Finn and gently shaking her head as though he had already lost. She slowly drew her fingers across the books she passed, stopping at the side of one cabinet and leaned back against it. Lowering her shoulder closest to Ezra, the fabric of her shirt slipped lower down her arm. Making a soft groan as she pulled her hair away from her neck, trailing her fingers along her neck before tucking the hair behind her ear. She watched as Ezra gulped and shifted his position so he could no longer easily see them both. 
Locking eyes with Finn across the room, Julia decided to change tactics. She swayed across the room, skirting round behind the counted with Finn’s gaze following her as she slipped behind him. The counter creaked gently as she clambered onto it and knelt behind Finn, sliding her knees around either side of his chest. With slow deliberate kisses she made her way along his shoulder while her hand wound around him, pulling his back flush against her. 
“That’s cheating,” Finn muttered. 
“I call it winning,” she purred, turning Finn’s head so he could see the dark blush growing on Ezra’s cheeks. 
A low growl rumbled from Finn’s chest and he turned around in her grasp so he was face to face. Even kneeling on the counter she was still a head shorter than him. “Well if that’s how you want to play,” he growled softly, pressing his lips to her jaw and kissing a trail down her neck to the marks he had left there a few days before. He smiled against her skin as she moaned, able to feel her heart racing. 
“Nice try,” she breathed, shifting her weight forward to free her legs from beneath her before wrapping them around Finn’s hips. “But you’re not going to beat me.” The sinful noise that fell from Finn’s lips as she pulled herself tighter against him did nothing but encourage her. He dug his fingers into her hips in response, drawing a gentle curse from her. 
The volume of Ezra’s voice briefly distracted them as he announced that he was now shutting the shop and apologised to the ladies as he hurried them out. In seconds the door was locked and Ezra turned to face them with angry green eyes. 
“You two - ” he said sternly, striding across the room towards them. Guilt sat heavy on Julia’s chest as she prepared to apologise. The words were stolen from her lips as Ezra cupped a hand round Finn’s jaw and furiously pressed a kiss to his lips. He breathed heavily as they broke apart, turning his gaze to Julia. “- upstairs. Now.” 
Gripping both of their hands, Ezra began to pull them towards the stairs. 
“You’re not mad?” asked Julia, almost stumbling as Ezra dragged them behind him. 
“I’m furious,” growled Ezra as he pushed open his bedroom door and pushed a compliant Finn inside. He pulled Julia flush against him, pressing a fleeting kiss to her lips, “but I’ll deal with you both first.”
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dfroza · 4 years ago
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[seeds]
this is the True story of Today’s reading in the Scriptures with chapter 13 from the book of Matthew:
[The Parables of Jesus]
Later that day, Jesus left the house and sat by the lakeshore to teach the people. Soon, there were so many people surrounding him that he had to teach sitting in a boat while the large crowd stood on the shore. He taught them many things by using stories, parables to illustrate spiritual truths, saying:
“Consider this: There was a farmer who went out to sow seeds. As he cast his seeds, some fell along the beaten path and the birds came and ate them. Others fell onto gravel that had no topsoil. They quickly shot up, but when the days grew hot, they were scorched and withered because they had insufficient roots. Others fell among the thorns, so when they sprouted, the thorns choked them. But other seeds fell on good, rich soil that kept producing a good harvest. Some yielded thirty, some sixty, and some even one hundred times as much as he planted! If you’re able to understand this, then you need to respond.”
Then his disciples approached Jesus and asked, “Why do you always speak to people in these hard-to-understand parables?”
He explained, “You’ve been given the intimate experience of insight into the hidden mysteries of the realm of heaven’s kingdom, but they have not. For everyone who listens with an open heart will receive progressively more revelation until he has more than enough. But those who don’t listen with an open, teachable heart, even the understanding that they think they have will be taken from them. That’s why I teach the people using parables, because they think they’re looking for truth, yet because their hearts are unteachable, they never discover it. Although they will listen to me, they never fully perceive the message I speak. The prophecy of Isaiah describes them perfectly:
Although they listen carefully to everything I speak,
they don’t understand a thing I say.
They look and pretend to see,
but the eyes of their hearts are closed.
Their minds are dull and slow to perceive,
their ears are plugged and are hard of hearing,
and they have deliberately shut their eyes to the truth.
Otherwise they would open their eyes to see,
and open their ears to hear,
and open their minds to understand.
Then they would turn to me
and I would instantly heal them.
“But blissful are your eyes, for they see. Delighted are your ears, for they are open to hear all these things. Many prophets and godly people yearned to see these days of miracles that you’ve been favored to see. They would have given everything to hear the revelation you’ve been favored to hear.
“Now you are ready to hear the explanation of the parable of the sower:
“What was sown along the path represents the one who listens to the message of the kingdom but doesn’t understand it. The Adversary then comes and snatches away what was sown into his heart.
“The one sown on gravel represents the person who gladly hears the kingdom message, but his experience remains shallow. Shortly after he hears it, troubles and persecutions come because of the kingdom message he received. Then he quickly falls away, for the truth didn’t sink deeply into his heart.
“The one sown among thorns represents one who receives the message, but all of life’s busy distractions, his divided heart, and his ambition for wealth result in suffocating the kingdom message and it becomes fruitless.
“But what was sown on good, rich soil represents the one who hears and fully embraces the message of the kingdom. Their lives bear good fruit—some yield a harvest of thirty, sixty, even one hundred times as much as was sown.”
Then Jesus taught them another parable:
“Heaven’s kingdom can be compared to a farmer who planted good seed in his field. But when everyone was asleep, an enemy came and planted weeds among the wheat and ran away. When the wheat sprouted and bore grain, the weeds also appeared. So the farmer’s hired hands came to him and said, ‘Sir, wasn’t that good seed that you sowed in the field? Where did all these weeds come from?’
“He answered, ‘This has to be the work of an enemy!’
“They replied, ‘Do you want us to go and gather up all the weeds?’
“ ‘No,’ he said. ‘If you pull out the weeds you might uproot the wheat at the same time. Let them both grow together until the harvest. At that time, I’ll tell my harvesters to gather the weeds first and tie them all in bundles to be burned. Then they will harvest the wheat and put it into my barn.’ ”
Then Jesus taught them another parable:
“Heaven’s kingdom can be compared to the tiny mustard seed that a man takes and plants in his field. Although the smallest of all the seeds, it eventually grows into the greatest of garden plants, becoming a tree for birds to come and build their nests in its branches.”
Then he taught them another parable:
“Heaven’s kingdom can be compared to yeast that a woman takes and blends into three measures of flour and then waits until all the dough rises.”
Whenever Jesus addressed the crowds, he always spoke in allegories. He never spoke without using parables. He did this to fulfill the prophecy:
I will speak to you in allegories.
I will reveal secrets that have been concealed
since before the foundation of the world.
Jesus left the crowds and went inside the house where he was staying. Then his disciples approached him and asked, “Please explain the deeper meaning of the parable of the weeds growing in the field of wheat.”
He answered, “The man who sowed his field with good seed is the Son of Man. And the field is the world. The good seeds I sow are the children of the kingdom realm. The weeds are the children of the Evil One, and the enemy who sows them is the devil. The harvest points to the end of this age, and the harvesters are God’s messengers. As the weeds are bundled up and thrown into the fire, so it will be at the close of the age. The Son of Man will send his messengers, and they will uproot everything out of his kingdom. All the lawless ones and everything that causes sin will be removed. And they will throw them into the fiery furnace, where they will experience great sorrow and anguish. Then the righteous will shine like the brightness of the sun in their Father’s kingdom realm. If you’re able to understand this, then you’d better respond!”
“Heaven’s kingdom realm can be illustrated like this:
“A person discovered that there was hidden treasure in a field. Upon finding it, he hid it again. Because of uncovering such treasure, he was overjoyed and sold all that he possessed to buy the entire field just so he could have the treasure.
“Heaven’s kingdom realm is also like a jewel merchant in search of rare pearls. When he discovered one very precious and exquisite pearl, he immediately gave up all he had in exchange for it.”
“Again, heaven’s kingdom realm is like a fisherman who casts his large net into the lake, catching an assortment of fish. When the net was filled, the fishermen hauled it up on the shore, and they all sat down to sort out their catch. They collected the good in baskets and threw the bad away. And so it will be at the close of the age. The messengers will come and separate the evil from among the godly and throw them into the fiery furnace, where they will experience great sorrow and anguish. Now do you understand all this?”
“Yes,” they replied.
He responded, “Every scholar of the Scriptures, who is instructed in the ways of heaven’s kingdom realm, is like a wealthy home owner with his house filled with treasures both new and old.”
Right after Jesus taught this series of parables, he left from there.
When Jesus arrived in his hometown of Nazareth, he began teaching the people in the synagogue. Everyone was dazed, overwhelmed with astonishment over the depth of revelation they were hearing. They said to one another, “Where did this man get such great wisdom and miraculous powers? Isn’t he just the craftsman’s son? Isn’t his mother named Mary, and his four brothers Jacob, Joseph, Simon, and Judah? And don’t his sisters all live here in Nazareth? From where then did he get all this revelation and power?” And the people became offended and began to turn against him.
Jesus said, “There’s only one place a prophet isn’t honored—his own hometown!” And their unbelief kept him from doing many mighty miracles in Nazareth.
The Book of Matthew, Chapter 13 (The Passion Translation)
Today’s paired chapter of the Testaments is the closing chapter 10 of the book of Ezra where the Israelite men were told to divorce their foreign wives since the foreign nations did not worship the True God our Creator and were involved in idolatry. and Paul wrote of this in his Letters in the New Testament as well, of not seeking to be unequally joined with unbelievers. although if a person already has done so, or maybe has come to believe since marrying, then he instructs to remain married if the partner is willing to stay, possibly to inspire them to come to the same shared faith, in hope and in Love.
[Ezra Takes Charge]
Ezra wept, prostrate in front of The Temple of God. As he prayed and confessed, a huge number of the men, women, and children of Israel gathered around him. All the people were now weeping as if their hearts would break.
Shecaniah son of Jehiel of the family of Elam, acting as spokesman, said to Ezra: “We betrayed our God by marrying foreign wives from the people around here. But all is not lost; there is still hope for Israel. Let’s make a covenant right now with our God, agreeing to get rid of all these wives and their children, just as my master and those who honor God’s commandment are saying. It’s what The Revelation says, so let’s do it.
“Now get up, Ezra. Take charge—we’re behind you. Don’t back down.”
So Ezra stood up and had the leaders of the priests, the Levites, and all Israel solemnly swear to do what Shecaniah proposed. And they did it.
Then Ezra left the plaza in front of The Temple of God and went to the home of Jehohanan son of Eliashib where he stayed, still fasting from food and drink, continuing his mourning over the betrayal by the exiles.
* * *
A notice was then sent throughout Judah and Jerusalem ordering all the exiles to meet in Jerusalem. Anyone who failed to show up in three days, in compliance with the ruling of the leaders and elders, would have all his possessions confiscated and be thrown out of the congregation of the returned exiles.
All the men of Judah and Benjamin met in Jerusalem within the three days. It was the twentieth day of the ninth month. They all sat down in the plaza in front of The Temple of God. Because of the business before them, and aggravated by the buckets of rain coming down on them, they were restless, uneasy, and anxious.
Ezra the priest stood up and spoke: “You’ve broken trust. You’ve married foreign wives. You’ve piled guilt on Israel. Now make your confession to God, the God of your ancestors, and do what he wants you to do: Separate yourselves from the people of the land and from your foreign wives.”
The whole congregation responded with a shout, “Yes, we’ll do it—just the way you said it!”
They also said, “But look, do you see how many people there are out here? And it’s the rainy season; you can’t expect us to stand out here soaking wet until this is done—why, it will take days! A lot of us are deeply involved in this transgression. Let our leaders act on behalf of the whole congregation. Have everybody who lives in cities and who has married a foreign wife come at an appointed time, accompanied by the elders and judges of each city. We’ll keep at this until the hot anger of our God over this thing is turned away.”
Only Jonathan son of Asahel and Jahzeiah son of Tikvah, supported by Meshullam and Shabbethai the Levite, opposed this. So the exiles went ahead with the plan. Ezra the priest picked men who were family heads, each one by name. They sat down together on the first day of the tenth month to pursue the matter. By the first day of the first month they had finished dealing with every man who had married a foreign wife.
* * *
Among the families of priests, the following were found to have married foreign wives:
The family of Jeshua son of Jozadak and his brothers: Maaseiah, Eliezer, Jarib, and Gedaliah. They all promised to divorce their wives and sealed it with a handshake. For their guilt they brought a ram from the flock as a Compensation-Offering.
The family of Immer: Hanani and Zebadiah.
The family of Harim: Maaseiah, Elijah, Shemaiah, Jehiel, and Uzziah.
The family of Pashhur: Elioenai, Maaseiah, Ishmael, Nethanel, Jozabad, and Elasah.
From the Levites: Jozabad, Shimei, Kelaiah—that is, Kelita—Pethahiah, Judah, and Eliezer.
From the singers: Eliashib.
From the temple security guards: Shallum, Telem, and Uri.
And from the other Israelites:
The family of Parosh: Ramiah, Izziah, Malkijah, Mijamin, Eleazar, Malkijah, and Benaiah.
The family of Elam: Mattaniah, Zechariah, Jehiel, Abdi, Jeremoth, and Elijah.
The family of Zattu: Elioenai, Eliashib, Mattaniah, Jeremoth, Zabad, and Aziza.
The family of Bebai: Jehohanan, Hananiah, Zabbai, and Athlai.
The family of Bani: Meshullam, Malluch, Adaiah, Jashub, Sheal, and Jeremoth.
The family of Pahath-Moab: Adna, Kelal, Benaiah, Maaseiah, Mattaniah, Bezalel, Binnui, and Manasseh.
The family of Harim: Eliezer, Ishijah, Malkijah, Shemaiah, Shimeon, Benjamin, Malluch, and Shemariah.
The family of Hashum: Mattenai, Mattattah, Zabad, Eliphelet, Jeremai, Manasseh, and Shimei.
The family of Bani: Maadai, Amram, Uel, Benaiah, Bedeiah, Keluhi, Vaniah, Meremoth, Eliashib, Mattaniah, Mattenai, and Jaasu.
The family of Binnui: Shimei, Shelemiah, Nathan, Adaiah, Macnadebai, Shashai, Sharai, Azarel, Shelemiah, Shemariah, Shallum, Amariah, and Joseph.
The family of Nebo: Jeiel, Mattithiah, Zabad, Zebina, Jaddai, Joel, and Benaiah.
All these had married foreign wives and some had also had children by them.
The Book of Ezra, Chapter 10 (The Message)
my personal reading of the Scriptures for monday, march 15 of 2021 with a paired chapter from each Testament of the Bible, along with Today’s Psalms and Proverbs
A post by John Parsons that takes a look into this week’s Torah reading:
Our Torah reading for this week is Vayikra ("and he called"), the very first portion from the Book of Leviticus (ספר ויקרא). In Jewish tradition, the Book of Leviticus is sometimes called the "Book of Sacrifices" (ספר הזבחים) since it deals largely with the various sacrificial offerings brought to the altar at the Mishkan (i.e., Tabernacle). Indeed, over 40 percent of all the Torah's commandments are found in this central book of the Scriptures, highlighting that blood atonement is essential to the Torah. Indeed, since the revelation of the Tabernacle was the climax of the revelation given at Sinai, the Book of Leviticus serves as its ritual expression, as it is written: "For the life of the flesh is in the blood, and I have given it for you on the altar to make atonement for your souls, for it is the blood that makes atonement (kapparah) by the life" (Lev. 17:11).
Unlike narrative portions of other books of the Torah, the Book of Leviticus begins with the LORD "calling out" (i.e., vayikra) to Moses to explain that the way to draw near to Him is by means of atoning sacrifice. It is noteworthy that throughout the book, only the sacred name of the LORD (יהוה) is used in connection with sacrificial offerings, and never the name Elohim (אלוהים). This suggests that sacrificial offerings were given to draw us near to experience God's mercy and compassion rather than to simply appease His anger.... In other words, the Name of the LORD represents salvation (i.e., yeshuah: ישועה) and healing for the sinner, not God’s judgment (John 3:17). Indeed, the word korban (קרבן), often translated as "sacrifice" or "offering," comes from a root word karov (קרב) that means to "draw close" or "to come near" (James 4:8). The sinner who approached the LORD trusting in the efficacy of the sacrificial blood shed on his or her behalf would find healing and life...
Note that the word in the ancient Greek translation of the Torah (called the Septuagint) that was selected to translate the Hebrew word kapporet (i.e., כפרת, "mercy seat") is hilasterion (ἱλαστήριον), sometimes translated "propitiation." The New Testament picks up this usage in Romans 3:25: "God put forward Yeshua as a propitiation (ἱλαστήριον) through faith in His blood." In other words, the shedding of Yeshua's blood - represented by His Passion upon the cross - was "presented" upon the Heavenly Kapporet, before the very Throne of God Himself for our atoning sacrifice (i.e., kapparah: כפרה) before God. [Hebrew for Christians]
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3.14.21 • Facebook
Today’s message from the Institute for Creation Research
March 15, 2021
God's Tear Bottle
“Thou tellest my wanderings: put thou my tears into thy bottle: are they not in thy book?” (Psalm 56:8)
This is a remarkable insight into the tender heart of our heavenly Father. He has a tear bottle—in fact, perhaps a tear bottle for each of His wandering children.
Ancient “tear bottles” (or wineskins) have actually been excavated by archaeologists in Israel. These vessels were used to catch and preserve the owner’s tears during times of grief or extreme pressure. This psalm was actually written by David when he was being pursued by Saul on one side and surrounded by Philistines in the city of Goliath on the other. David apparently not only had his own tear bottle but also believed that God somehow was also storing up David’s personal tears in His own heavenly bottle of tears.
There is a touching story in the earthly ministry of Jesus that provides another example: “Behold, a woman in the city, which was a sinner, when she knew that Jesus sat at meat in the Pharisee’s house, brought an alabaster box of ointment, And stood at his feet behind him weeping, and began to wash his feet with tears,...and anointed them with the ointment” (Luke 7:37-38).
The ointment was obviously not the same as the tears but followed the washing by tears. Some scholars think these tears came from her bottle, which was emptied on His feet and used to wash them. Others think that those tear bottles that have been found actually contained the collected tears of mourners at a burial site.
In any case, God does know all our wanderings and sorrows and all our tears, and stores them up somewhere. Perhaps it is also a metaphor for His “book of remembrance,” which is being “written before him for them that feared the Lord, and that thought upon his name” (Malachi 3:16). HMM
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krtrs · 8 years ago
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For Her
Word Count: 1781
Fandom: The Hunger Games
Pairing: Finnick Odair x Reader
Request(s):  None
Warning(s): Angsty
A/N: This was so sad to write. Hope you like it.
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“(Y/N)? Where are you?” his voice was hushed as he searched around the area. He heard a weak voice call his name.
He bolted in the direction it came from, only to freeze when he saw her.
“(Y/N)!” His voice cracked as he rushed to her side, sliding onto his knees. She winced as he pulled her into his arms.
“Hey Finn,” she attempted to smile. He scanned her body, feeling helpless when he noticed the large stab wound in her abdomen. The blade that inflicted the damage was nowhere to be seen.
“What happened?” He asked.
“Well, Finnick. I think it’s quite obvious. I’ve been stabbed,” she chuckled sardonically. He shook his head at her attempt to be humorous.
“I meant, who did this?” He corrected himself.
“I didn’t see,” she told him, coughing a bit. His mind raced as he began to truly process everything. He placed his hand the injury and pressed down, trying to stop the profuse bleeding.
“You need to go. You’re out in the open,” she warned him, her voice small. He shook his head.
“I’m not leaving you here,” he said.
“Then take me with you, dork,” she retorted. He nodded slightly, lifting her up bridal style. She leant her head on his shoulder as he took them both back to his little cave.
She sighed as she was set down in his lap on the cold stone floor.
“This is a much better place to die,” she nodded. He looked at her, horrified.
“You aren’t going to die,” he stated, trying to sound confident. It came out as more of a question than he hoped.
“Always a joker,” she smiled.
“I’m serious. You can’t leave me here. Remember the plan? You and I are both leaving this arena,” he reminded. She shook her head, lightly.
“Wish that was true. You know it would never happen, Finn,” she said. She coughed again, causing another wince from both parties.
“I need you,” he muttered. She frowned.
“Well, I need you to promise me something.”
“What?” He asked, confused.
“Promise you’ll live, Odair. Promise you’ll win and go back to District Four and swim in the ocean and make sandcastles on the beach and catch fish with that big trident of yours, okay? I want to hear all about it when we meet up again. I’ve never been, you know,” she told him. Tears began to well in his eyes as he realised that more colour was draining from her face, rapidly.
“You’re going to be there with me,” he demanded. She shook her head.
“No use in being optimistic, Odair. Now promise me,” she chided him.
“I promise,” he sputtered out, the feeling of panic not leaving his body. She leant her head on his chest as he pulled her closer. He was still applying pressure to her wound, so she painfully pushed his hand away.
“Please, (Y/N). Please don’t do this,” he stammered.
“Sorry, Finnick,” she whimpered.
“I - I love you,” he confided, pulling her into a hug.
“I love you too, Finn,” she whispered in his ear.
He held her close to his chest in silence until he could no longer hear her heartbeat or feel her breath on his skin. She felt cold as he laid her back down in his lap. A canon sounded outside. Tears fell freely from his sea coloured eyes as he looked down at her. He moved a strand of hair out of her face and pressed a kiss to her forehead. He picked her up and carried her back outside the cave, laying her on the soft ground. He grabbed a loose piece of the many nets he had made and tied it around her wrist.
He sat next to her until he heard the undeniable drone of the hovercraft, coming to take her lifeless body away. He sniffed and stood up, taking a single look down at her peaceful face before walking back down into his dark cave. He leant up against the wall and slid down to the floor.
He didn’t remember how long he sat there for, but he knew that his fire went out and a few other cannons went off. There was only three of them left alive.
He imagined the people in the Capitol giggling as she died in his arms, laughing at his attempts to keep her alive. It angered him beyond belief. He was more upset than he’d ever been in his life. Angrier than the time his cousin pushed him off the boat into the water when he was four years old. Angrier than when his father left his mother for another woman. Angrier than when his best friend, Cyrus, volunteered for the Games. Angrier than when he died.
The citizens in the Capitol had no idea what it was like to suffer the Games. To constantly fear the reapings, not only fear for yourself but for the other poor children who’d be called. They had no idea what it was like to lose someone who meant the world to them. He doubted they even knew what real love was. And it enraged him.
He stood from his spot up against the cave and paced the short distance available under the ground. He tugged on his curly locks in frustration, muttering things under his breath. He threw his trident at the walls a few times, feeling useless and weak. More tears fell. They were most unwelcome. At one point, he even threw a punch at the hard stone wall, not thinking about how much pain he’d be in afterwards. His knuckles bled but that didn’t stop him from doing it again, and again, and again, until he finally collapsed onto the floor, in another fit of grief filled tears.
He walked onto the shore, not seeing anyone else there. His last net had been ruined when he attempted to catch one of the remaining tributes. They’d broken free, tearing through the net. So there he was, going out into the water to fish for some food, feeling defeated. He had decided that he was going to try and keep his promise to (Y/N). He’d try to win. Even if all he wanted to do was die. He froze when he saw two other people run into the water not far away. He dove under the water, gripping his trident, praying to anything he could think of that they hadn’t seen him. He swam farther out, away from the fighting. His head broke the surface as he almost reached the Cornucopia in the centre of the salty lake.
He heard a cannon go off and he turned his head to the two in the water. The girl’s body was floating upside down and the boy was shaking his head to get the liquid out of his hair and his hair out of his face. Finnick clambered up onto the rocks of the Cornucopia, gripping his trident tighter, knowing it was just them left. The boy in the water saw him and smirked before swimming up to the island. Finnick readied himself for the fight that was sure to occur.
As soon as his head bobbed above the water, Finnick knew who it was. Ezra.
“Hey there, Odair. I guess it’s just you and me now. Too bad only one can leave today,” Ezra taunted, hauling himself onto the rocky island. “And we all know it will be me that’s walking out of here alive.”
“That’s real funny, One,” Finnick said, remembering that Ezra came from one of the Career Districts.
“We’ll see,” Ezra spoke, throwing his fist at Finnick’s face. Finnick snatched it out of the air before it hit him.
“They were right, you really were the one we should have gone after,” Ezra said. “Sadly, no one listened. The nets were you right? Pretty smart, for a kid.”
Ezra was only two years older than the Odair boy. Finnick twisted his hand, causing him to grimace and tear it away.
“Less banter, more brawling, yeah?” Finnick countered. He tried to stab at the older boy, but Ezra just dodged it. He smiled, pulling out a knife. Finnick lifted his trident again, ready to throw.
Instead of throwing the knife like Finnick expected, Ezra threw his entire body at the shorter boy, causing them both to tumble to the ground. Finnick wrestled to get out from under him, but instead, he was pinned down.
Ezra held the knife up to his throat. Finnick wondered why he didn’t just kill him immediately.
“You’re little girlfriend, (Y/N)? I killed her,” Ezra admitted. Finnick almost didn’t comprehend it. He struggled under him.
“What?” Finnick asked, taken aback by the words.
“I stabbed her right in the stomach and watched as she collapsed onto the ground. I wiped her blood away and I smiled while doing it,” Ezra laughed. “She didn’t even see me coming.”
Finnick felt his blood boil as he struggled to get free. Ezra’s blade began to cut into his skin, hot blood trickling down to the rocks below him. His vision turned red and he saw his trident just a few inches from his hand. He set his jaw and took a deep breath. Ezra was still talking about how he killed (Y/N) as Finnick twisted to the right. His hand brushed against the shiny metal and he gripped it tight. Ezra’s knife was cutting into his throat more and he’d ended his soliloquy.
Before the boy from District One could think to stop him, Finnick had pushed himself out from under him and stood up, kicking the older boy to keep him down.
“You killed her!” Finnick roared, poking the tips of his weapon into Ezra’s chest. He looked terrified as the younger boy seemed to tower over him.
“Yes,” Ezra said, glaring at Finnick.
“This is for her,” Finnick growled. Ezra’s eyes widened as Finnick lifted his trident up in the air and forcefully shoved it straight through the other boy's chest. The cannon went off immediately. But, just out of anger, Finnick stabbed him once more.
“Ladies and gentlemen, may I present the winner of the 65th Annual Hunger Games.”
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princessyennenga · 8 years ago
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How long will we have The Flash?
So I was scrolling back through episodes of “Arrow,” Season 2, when we first meet Barry Allen in the episode “The Scientist.” Can’t help thinking about how immensely talented Grant Gustin is, because in my view he walked onto that set and stole the show from everybody -- including the lead! He was really riveting and completely inhabited the character of a guy who is at once a quirky, brilliant scientist that has that adorable boy next door vibe to him, but also a risk taker, capable of taking charge of a situation, so you can see the hero in him, too. Grant took all of that and threw it down, and it’s no wonder that “The Flash” went straight to pilot after the higher ups saw what he did on that show. 
Which is an enormous, enormous compliment to Candice that she is the one who compliments him best as Iris West, and whose screen presence and talent can stand up to Grant’s as leading lady. It’s major in so many ways, including that they decided to give the role to a Black actress. 
Admittedly, there are a number of white or Asian actresses who could be Iris West, and Grant is talented enough to generate chemistry with just about anyone. (Which might explain some of Shantal’s salty “close but no cigar” SM output lately.) But Candice outdistances everyone every time. 
Which brings me to my question: How long is this series going to last? I’m not trying to jinx things, but I just see bigger and better things for these two in particular. (Carlos Valdez, too, I might add. He showed tremendous versatility with the Cisco Ramons from E-2 and Flashpoint.) I can see Grant having a career arc like Matthew McConaughey or Jared Leto, or being what Heath Ledger or River Phoenix would have become had either one lived longer. He is so impressive as Barry Allen that Ezra Miller’s choice to play the movie role raised a couple of eyebrows. But it will be hard to contain Grant’s talent and potential to the small screen in a comic book adaptation. 
I think I’ve read snippets of interviews where Candice said she hoped to have a career like Zoe Saldana -- which is odd, because I think she is far more skilled and talented than cutesy, one-note Zoe. (Candice makes you feel things. There is a frequent glimmer in Candice’s eye, something stirring up that you know she would throw down if the script didn’t restrict her to being the assistant or girlfriend and giving way to the male lead. But Zoe? It’s like ‘lets not do anything interesting, or my makeup is gonna crack.’) But perhaps Candice means to emulate Zoe Saldana in landing regular parts in major blockbusters and cash-cow romantic comedies. She just needs to get an acting coach to push her into the deeper territory that she can clearly handle, and an agent who goes to the mat for her. WE NEED AN EPISODE WHERE WE FOLLOW HER INVESTIGATING A STORY FROM START TO FINISH!! Not offscreen reporting that she recaps while kissing Barry. No. I mean gutsy investigating like Kalinda Sharma from “The Good Wife,” only wielding a pen, not a gun. 
So, how long do we have Grant and Candice for? I dunno, but I do see them doing greater things, and I’m sure they see it, too. 
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vestigialux · 7 years ago
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A HUMBLE NEW BEGINNING
SUMMARY :
Vampires are real, they’re just smarter at concealing their true identities, or so, at least that’s how it is for the Brook family. Human Benjamin Brook took the murder of his vampire wife as a warning for the threat his three sons were up against and thus came up with several methods to keep all three of them safe while letting them lead normal lives. However, thirteen years later, Aaron, Ezra and Dez discover their mother had left a few secrets behind, and they are curious to investigate. What kind of trouble could they get into after so many years of hiding behind masks?
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Chapter 2 : Morning Rage & A New School
( Original Story by @vestigialux - @ AquaLux on Quotev (Quiet Girl) )
< Chapter 1 >
Wednesday, 6th September, 2017 Brampton College, Lodge Rd, London NW4 4DQ 8:30 a.m.
    ��  Along with the end of the Summer holidays came the dreaded back to school season where almost every young person in the UK contemplated whether education was really worth it and becoming a stripper would have been a much better option. Thankfully, Mr Brook's sons weren't stripping for strangers any time soon.
It was a gloomy autumn morning as Benjamin drove his two youngest sons to their sixth form on his way to work, besides them not living far off. They had just moved into a flat in Hendon last weekend after spending almost three years in York. It was their tri/bi-yearly routine; move in, get comfortable in the new area, establish a community, leave after the ones in the cul-de-sac have gained their trust but before they started realizing that they indeed must have gone with their gut instinct, and yes, the Brooks were no normal family. To the outside world, Aaron, Ezra and Dez were normal young adults whom suffered from a rare skin disease which made them more susceptible to damage by UV light which caused them to have a mainly indoor life, explaining most of their habits.
Despite being clever enough to make up excuses for his sons' odd behaviour, especially as they had started hitting puberty, he couldn't hide the glowing eyes, fangs and pointed ears which grew every time one of them got majorly pissed off, as well as the sleep while levitating, that was also a problem. Fortunately, they weren't the typical blood-craving creatures people read about in myths, they could drain a living being but they had no thirst for human blood nor did they want to try it, which was exactly how Melanie had said even though he had never really believed her. He just thought she was just really good at controlling her supernatural urges. Really, it was the fact that they floated half a meter above the ground the second they drifted to sleep combined with their unhealthy sleep schedules which made ensuring they were awake enough to spend a whole day as ordinary functioning human beings just the whole much harder. So, before anybody got too suspicious, they took off to another city. There, they would start anew where the boys would follow the same strict set of rules to hide their supernatural identities, the most important yet hardest one being not to take naps during the day. The logic behind this is for them to end up tired enough to sleep well at night. He was not going to let his children end up like their mother.
Contradicting their complaints, especially his youngest's, he had actually put up these commands to allow them to lead a normal lives free from being locked inside all day. Like this, they could act more human, and choose whom they wanted to be- a shut-in content with just indulging in being a vampire or a member of the human society, with minimum risks of being found out. An effort on his part, which he was sure they had begun to appreciate as they grew older. They were obedient boys from the beginning, their mother had drilled the dangers of being what they were into their heads and her death had been the cherry on top, however they truly began to understand the extent their father's care for them once they became teens and started diverging into their own paths. A parental strategy, Benjamin liked to think, that his wife would have approved of. It was working fine too, Aaron had just got into University and now, Dez and Ezra were on their way to further their education at Brampton college. It was a decent school, he had heard reviews, and it was where Ezra would get his Advanced levels in third year and Dez was to begin his sixth form experience. It was also just up the road from their new apartment, convenient for when Benjamin had long hours at the hospital and couldn't drive them.
Now, Benjamin was a patient man, between being a single parent of three boys and a doctor to mostly-uncooperative patients, there was really not much that could break him. However, the second the two brothers in the backseat started bickering over something meaningless on a Wednesday morning before his first cup of tea was stretching it. He simply tried to ignore it, block them out as he usually did but his battery was running low and their voices became clearer and clearer until, unfortunately, he could decipher what they were saying. "Of course you can leave the school during your frees you bloody idiot! What do you think you're going to do on that day you have five hours free? Stay a fugitive in empty classrooms and school facilities?" The older black-haired boy prompted in his usual sarcastic tone. Life was so much better when they didn't go to the same school. "Unlike you, I'm actually planning on making new friends. I was thinking of planning a get-together somewhere close-by to get to know one another more and I figured not having to meet up outside of school would make things easier." Dez replied, sticking his tongue out after arranging his beanie over his blue-gone-turquoise hair. Ezra sighed and looked out of the window. "Whatever, weirdo." He never understood why it wasn't enough to meet the same people everyday at school, to spend even longer hours socializing? No thank you. Besides, they were only going to be in each other's lives for three years, less if some of them drop out. What was the point? "You're the weirdo here, I saw that thick book in your bag, are you really just going to spend your free time reading? Don't you do that every day anyway?" Ezra decided to ignore that comment, because his comeback would've just been; Yeah, maybe you should try it too, which was weak. "You don't even know who your classmates are. It's your first day." "I just know, I mean, we're all art students, we have the same passion. We'll get a long." "That's bollocks and you know it. Half of them will turn out to be stoners." "It's so not bollocks." "Bollocks~" "You know what? Fuck you, you pessimistic, emo twat." "Ouch, that really hurt my feelings." he then said in a more solemn tone. "These upcoming three years are going to be hell, just watch." Dez rolled his eyes. "You're such a hypocrite, you know that?" Ezra chuckled and looked at his younger brother. "Enlighten me, how am I a hypocrite?" "You got a girlfriend in York college and now you're calling me out for being excited." "That's different, just because I met Selena in York doesn't mean I liked the whole experience." "I'd like you to tell her that." "Within context? Sure." Ezra grinned as he could visibly notice Dez's temper rising. "Wanker! There's no winning with you." he kicked his brother's bag. "Hey! Leave my stuff alone!" Ezra demanded, irritation lacing his words. He proceeded to step on the other boy's shoes. "Come on! I just cleaned them and they took like three days to dry!" As if reading each other's minds, they stole each others' bags and threatened to throw them out of the car black-tinted windows, both rolling their windows down. Simultaneously, they were trying to reach their bags and block the other from retrieving theirs. "You wouldn't dare." Ezra stated. "Make me!" Dez replied and they glared at each other with tense brown eyes. Ezra sighed and pulled the blue satchel inside in defeat. Dez hesitantly did the same, however, Ezra quickly snatched his bag back and threw Dez's out. "Are you for real?!" Dez argued, his mouth agape in disbelief, furious while Ezra laughed. "Dad, did you-" Benjamin stopped the car suddenly, causing both boys to lunge forward. He had had enough. "Both of you, get out of the car and pick up Dez's bag from the street." Even though he didn't yell, there was an eerie coldness to his voice. The two of them sat up and fumbled with their seat-belts. They did not want to suffer from the father's morning-before-work wrath. When they got out of the car, Ezra mumbled. "This is your fault." "My fault? You're the one who threw my bag out the bloody window!" Dez retorted. "Shh! Dumbass, he'll hear you. You're the one who made a big deal out of it. We're stuck in traffic and it isn't like I threw it onto the train tracks of a tube station. See?" he announced, pointing it. "Safely on the pavement by this tree here." He picked it up and handed it to him. "Over-dramatic much?" Dez snatched it from the other boy's hands. "This is bloody ridiculous." he muttered. Ezra just shrugged, however the smug expression on his face fell when he saw his bag on the edge of the pavement where his father's car had once been parked by. "For fuck's sake..." Dez burst out laughing as Ezra picked up his satchel and wore it on his shoulder. "Why are you laughing?" He uttered bitterly. "We're going to have to walk it the rest of the way." "Worth it." Dez claimed as he walked beside his older brother to school. "Totally worth it."
            Kate Brown was a third-year with a great talent for observing. She didn't need much to entertain her, simply sitting down in front of a crowd of students in the foyer and catching snippets of conversation was enough go prevent her from getting bored. The hardest part was not seeming like an utter stalker. On a usual day, she wouldn't be noticed since everyone would be completely  absorbed into their conversations and she would simply look down at her phone when someone spotted her. Today, however, her gaze shifted about frantically because her biology and chemistry lecturers of last year had informed them about a new student with a rare skin disease would be joining them this year in advance as a warning to be careful about what they do around him. She had also heard his surname was Brook, just one above hers in the register. They were going to be lab partners. Kate was a shy girl without any friends who liked to plan ahead in social situations so she came up with a scheme; be the first to talk to the boy and get to know him so that they'll be close enough during lab for her to not seem as bossy when she's ordering him about. Not that her previous lab partner had complained, however he had hardly ever showed up. She was used to working independently and didn't want to mess up her one true shot at friendship. She wondered what he looked like, if he was pale or trying exaggeratedly hard to  conceal his illness like most insecure people their age would do to fit in. The fact that the boy was repelled by sunlight could not have been any more blatantly obvious. He looked like a member of the Addams' family. He was wearing a black denim jacket over a white jumper and black full length jeans as well as thick boots, a cap and sunglasses as he walked through the front gates holding an umbrella over his head in the beginning of September. How had his body not self combust?! Calming down from the bag-incident earlier, Ezra decided to comment on Dez's lack of sun protection. "You should've got your umbrella with you. You'll start to burn up." "It's cloudy and I'm going to spend most of my time indoors anyway so who cares?" Kate heard the boy in a grey hoodie, sweatpants and converse complain. The older one was clearly not having it as he let out and elongated sigh. "Your decision but don't forget you're spending almost eight hours in this place today." He closed his umbrella. "Whatever," Dez stated noticing some people holding A3 pads of paper. "Bye loser." Then walked off, recognizing a few of them from orientation week. "Hello fellow artists." he greeted them with his usual charm, "Have you managed to find our first class yet?" "Hey. Nah mate, still utterly lost." a taller brunet announced. "They could have given us a bloody map during the talk, this is bollocks." Another bloke argued. "Well, no wonder so many people skip class if they can't even find to sodding room." Dez opined, causing the other teens to laugh. Dez smiled slightly. "Let's check our department on the second floor and ask around, I'm sure some one will help us out." they collectively agreed and walked off.
       Kate was about to approach Ezra while he walked across the foyer to the staircase but her social anxiety glued her to her place. Ezra closed his umbrella as he maneuvered his way through the crowd of students, getting strange looks from the ones who noticed him. He was used to those judging gazes, he had been receiving them ever since he was born. Due to him being introverted and a bookworm, he had even been bullied for being different in primary school however it all changed when he reached his second half of secondary school. They had just moved to a new city and Ezra had decided he wasn't going to take shit from anyone so, he raised his confidence and started speaking back. It worked, he was left alone and no one bothered him anymore. Not even the friendliest of people. However, no matter how often he stood up for himself, there would always be those idiots in the next school whom would regress all his progress. Idiots such as the 'hip' kids sitting under the stairs whom were laughing and sneaking glances at him every few seconds. Haha, very funny, Ezra thought, make fun of the new guy who's allegedly more prone to cancer and is constantly in fear of falling ill after a few minutes of direct contact with sunlight by calling him emo or a goth or a straight out vampire. Even if they were right about that last part.... He was about to just walk off and leave it, sometimes the ignorant just can't be helped, when he heard the high-pitched voice of a blonde, short girl with blue eyes call them out. "Oh look at how smart you lot are, making jokes about a guy who's a little different from yourselves. Act your age and show some sodding respect to other human beings, cunts." Kate Brown stated with her arms crossed and her eyes narrowed. Speaking to a boy directly was out of her forte, but calling off a bunch of pillocks? She had this in the bag. She'd been wanting to call them out like that for years, but never had quit the perfect opportunity as she did now. The 'cool kids' shut their mouths and irritably migrated to another hang out area. Kate nodded, smiling to herself then looked at Ezra. He had vanished. Not that he wasn't grateful, what she did was admirable, he just didn't want to be the centre of a scene. He would try to thank her properly the next time he saw her in private. That time came sooner than he had thought as he found a seat for his first lecture of the day and Kate came walking in cheerily. To make it even more evident she wanted a response, she sat down next to him at one of the tables at the back by the windows with the curtains drawn. He wasn't sure what to say, 'Thanks or taking it upon yourself to call out those sods'? 'Congrats on being a decent person'? They all sounded sarcastic, but he couldn't bring himself to genuinely thank her for standing up for him when he didn't really need it. He knew he had to, though he would have offended her for her efforts if not. This was why he had never wanted to leave York, to leave Selena. He was comfortable around her. She understood him. When people were being arseholes, instead of creating drama, she would just accompany him and they would laugh at them together. The memories made him smile, those were the best times of his life. And she was gone because Dez couldn't keep his fangs in while arguing with an art teacher who had criticized his work in his previous school. He had thrown a fit in that classroom, Ezra wasn't there but he had heard rumours of how ferocious Dez had been, he had seemed like a totally different person, he had heard. Almost animal-like. Of course he had acted like a beast, Ezra thought, if any of them had looked closer, they would have noticed his pointed fangs, elongated ears and glowing eyes. He wondered if the teacher had noticed and simply denied it, or if she had been too distracted by the outburst. Now here he was, sitting next to another girl in a completely different place. He understood why they had to move, who knew whether any of the people in that art group were hunters or not? Or if the rumours had spread to the enemy? It was his brother incompetence that he blamed. Just learn to keep calm, he thought. Just learn to keep fucking calm. If it weren't for you we wouldn't be moving every few years anymore. We would have settled down in York. I would still be able to see Selena every day. While taking out her things for the lesson, Kate glanced at Ezra who seemed to be just staring at the wall but wasn't sure because of his glasses. Why hadn't he said anything about what happened in the foyer? Was he embarrassed? Just what had he been thinking about? Her glance turned into a stare which he was quick to notice. She jumped a little when he said, "Hey," He opened his mouth again and now, she was on the edge of her seat in anticipation. "I think you dropped your pen." Underwhelming was an understatement. ​​​ "Thanks..." she responded as she went to pick it up. What a jerk, at least pick it up yourself. Maybe he deserved to be teased in the first place. He sighed as she fumbled for it with her short limbs and reached for it himself as his patience diminished. The world had a routinely way of delivering karma most times, for instance, ending up in a downfall after throwing a bucket of water on someone for a prank, being stuck in a lift after locking someone in a room, or even crashing into a pole after going over the speed limit. In Ezra's case, it was different. It was funny, really. Who would have expected such an independent, confident intellectual to be a complete clutz? He stretched too far and ended up slipping off his chair, landing on his arse and hitting the back of his head with the bottom of his desk. "Bloody..." he muttered. Kate didn't laugh, but the notion was there, written all over her features as she thanked him and asked if he was okay. "I'm fine, I'm fine." he said, slapping her helping hand away as he got back onto his desk and took off his sunglasses and cap off before they added onto the growing headache. "Okay...." She responded, not wanting to make the situation worse.
       She didn't speak a word for the rest of the lesson, not until their chemistry lecturer announced a project to be done in pairs. Ezra counted how many they were in class and fuck they were an even number of students. Which meant, he slowly glanced at Kate who wasn't quite looking at him though she was looking in his general direction. Trying to seem idle, he thought, stop it with the bullshit. Why did this girl want to get to know him so badly? All he's been is rude to her.... It all made sense when the lecturer called out her name, "Kate Brown, no excuses this year, you have to have a study partner. No independent work." Brown, close in the register to Brook, and if you're register buddies, it meant you're most probably stuck with that person for every subject they have in common with you for the whole year. Hopefully she didn't have Chemistry, Biology and English A-levels. "Fine..." she mumbled. Might as well get used to each other, Ezra reasoned. Ezra sighed. "I don't have a partner." He could practically hear the astonishment in her face. She tried to play it cool. "Okay I guess, thanks." They were each assigned the element they were to answer questions about using university-level knowledge after which the hour was up and Ezra was outside before Kate could even say 'wait'.
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