#I’m trying to read every book with ezra in ever

[tyquu]

[xdaddysprincessxx]

In Every Lifetime

Demon!Ezra x Witch!Reader

Warnings: none, Reader is mid to late 20s, witchcraft, tarot, yes the witchy things depicted in this is real witchcraft things, use of Latin (look for the a/n at the end for the translation)

Summary: It’s fall of 1974 in your quiet small town of Chesterfield when everything falls apart. Or is it the beginning?

A/n: I’m super excited for this series, I hope y’all enjoy! This is not edited or beta’d, written on my phone, any mistakes are mine(: & the moodboard is made by moi!

🌙 A little ping sounds off as you enter your favorite used bookstore. The distinct smell of old books and worn leather floods your nose as you step inside. Ronald, the store owner, must be in the back, leaving the place all to yourself for the moment. You immediately head back to the nonfiction section hoping to find some books on the moon. Ever since you were little, you’ve found yourself drawn to the moon. Always a beacon of light for you in the darkness of the night. A few years ago for your birthday, your best friend Louise dragged you to a tarot reader to get your cards read. The first card the tarot reader pulled was the moon.

“Be wary of the illusion in front of you. Release your grip on your painful past and look for answers within yourself and your dreams.” the lady said.

Ever since that night you’ve poured yourself into learning everything you can about the moon, tarot and witchcraft. Since you’ve begun your craft, you’ve found you have quite a knack for kitchen witchery. But lately you’ve found yourself wanting to dabble in more mystic arts. To put it simply: you want to work more with the Greek goddess Selene and work on actually casting spells.

Lost in thought as your finger glides across all of the different book spines a sudden thud brings you back into the present. After jumping out of your skin you quickly look around trying to find the source of noise. That’s when you notice a small black book laying on the ground at your feet. Bending over to pick it up, you can’t help but feel a magnetic pull. Almost as if the book wants you to pick it up. Giving it a quick wipe to get the dust off, you realize it has no title on the front and a little lock holding it closed. Twisting the little knob you unlock the book and open to the first page. As you flip through the pages you realize it’s a journal filled with notes and little drawing of the moon, various spices and herbs and on one particular page; a drawing of a terrifying creature with horns and green eyes. Your curiosity got the better of you and you quickly put the journal in your bag before zipping it up and adjusting the strap that sits diagonally across your body. Giving the store one more quick glance around to make sure nobody saw you, you make your way back to the front and leave.

Once outside you make your way back home. The quaint little town you reside in seems quieter than normal for such a beautiful fall day. Colorful leaves scattered the ground and all the stores lining up and down main street all have their fall decorations adorning their windows. As your passing the little cafe on the corner, you can’t help but notice a stranger sitting at one of the little tables outside the cafe. Being in a small town you know everyone and everyone knows you. There is next to no type of privacy. And yet here this man sits with a small tea cup in front of him. With dark shades covering his eyes, he has a distinctive blonde patch on his otherwise dark brown hair. You find yourself staring at the man when you realize he’s smiling. At you.

“You do know it’s not polite to stare?” he says with an air of lightheartedness in a deep southern accent.

You begin to open and then close your mouth a few times before you found your words, “I am so sorry sir, I didn’t mean to stare. I- I just I’ve never seen you around here before. That’s all.”

The man’s smile widens as he sits back and tilts his head up at you, “And this is how you choose to show a stranger some hospitality?” he teases.

“I- welcome to Chesterfield mister. This cafe has a good herbal tea that cures colds and the diner down the street going”, as you point in the opposite direction, “that way has the best pancakes you’ve ever had and if your looking for something fun to do well then you’ve come to the wrong place. We have a rather rundown movie theater that only holds two movies at one time, the local high school has a pretty decent football team if your into that and here soon ole farmer Joel will be opening up his corn maze and hayrides to the public.” You say in a single breath. As much as you love living here it is a small town and there’s not much to offer.

“Well then I guess I’ll just have to find some other way to pass the time then. But thank you for that marvelous introduction to your beautiful town.” he says with a smirk still on his face.

“You have a good night now!” You say, rather high pitched, as you raise your hand to wave goodbye to the man.

🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙

Soon enough Main Street is a distance behind you as you turn into your neighborhood. With just a little bit longer before your home, you can’t shake the feeling that your being watched. The feeling is so sudden and strong it makes you stop in your tracks. Looking around real quick to see if anyone was following you, you find your the only one outside. Now that’s weird. You’re the only one. No cars driving by, no kids outside playing, the only noise is the wind rustling the leaves. It’s as if your in a ghost town. Unnerved you start walking again, this time with a little pep in your step so you can get home faster.

You live at the dead end in your neighborhood. A small, one story brick house with a tree in the front yard and two jack o lanterns sitting with their smiling faces on your front porch. You speed walk up your driveway, speeding past your little Volkswagen bug as you make your way up the few stairs leading to your front door. You unlock your front door, getting inside and shutting the door quickly as if you were running from someone. Placing your keys on the hook you take your shoes off and go to throw your bag onto the couch. Making your way into the kitchen you pull out your favorite mug and grab the tasty tea mixture you recently made and started making you a hot cup of tea to help calm your nerves.

Walking back into the living room while you wait for the water to heat up, you plop down on the couch and go to retrieve the journal laying inside your bag. Unlocking the little lock holding the journal closed, you open it to the first page and start reading. You soon find yourself immersed in this strangers writings. Different spices and herbs listed with descriptions on the best time to use them and for what purpose, the different moon phases and rituals to do during them. Looking at your calendar you realize tonight is a full moon. Perfect you think, no time like the present to try out a ritual you found in this mystery journal. What could go wrong?

🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙

Excitement fills you making it hard to wait until midnight to perform this ritual. You cleared the floor of your bedroom, lifting the rug you had laying down so you could write these symbols on your hardwood floor. Sitting in the middle of the triple moon symbol drawn with chalk and covered with a mixture of cinnamon, aloe, mugwort and hibiscus combined and crushed to a powder. You have a single red candle sitting in front of you with the journal laid open to the page depicting the full moon ritual. Repeating the incantation in your head, you glance over at your clock noticing it just hit midnight. Clearing your throat you speak out loud,

Vivamus, moriendum est

Ergo dum me diligis

Cor meum tuum est

And so it shall be.

As soon as the words left your mouth, you heard a loud, incessant banging on your door right before a gush of wind blew your candle out seemingly taking every light out with it.

A/n: !!! Okay I really hope y’all like this! Yes the moon is the star of this show! The incantation is Latin meaning: Let us live, for we must die. So long as you love me, my heart is yours. Let me know how y’all like it! I’m already working on chp 2 now! Happy hauntings my little witches 🌙

[all-the-things-2020]

All Our Future Prospects - Chapter Six

Summary: Claire gets a taste of freedom and Cee challenges her with a question.

Rating: PG

The next day, Ezra went looking for a job, and Claire had the entire day ahead of her with nothing planned until dinner with Ezra and Cee early in the evening. After eating breakfast downstairs, she seriously contemplated going back up to her room, but knew that if she did, she’d be paralyzed by indecision. So she took a deep breath and walked out the hotel door and onto the sidewalk.

She walked to the public library, registered as a borrower and took her time selecting a novel. When she walked out the door, she glanced at her chronometer and saw that she’d only managed to kill an hour with her task.

She wandered the streets, stopping in at a small shop specializing in handmade textiles and clothing, where she purchased a small woven crossbody bag to hold her library book. With the book securely tucked away, she moved on and soon found herself in front of the museum. Ezra had pointed it out to her, but they hadn’t gone in. She opened the heavy door and stepped inside.

The lobby was quiet and her shoes echoed on the slate floor as she walked to the information desk. An older woman looked up from her work and smiled broadly. “Welcome to our museum!,” she said. “Are you a first time visitor?”

She handed Claire a brochure and map, very neatly printed on thick paper. “Our local printer does these for us as a donation,” the woman explained. “We have several of her items in our art gallery. Exquisite bindings, if you’re ever in need of a special gift. Worth every credit.”

Claire admired the thick, creamy paper and the crisp lines of the drawings and text, black against the off-white matte paper. It had clearly been made on a letter press, not a digital printer, and was a minor work of art in its own right. I have to show this to Cee, she thought. Last night she had spent a good twenty minutes telling them about the new novel she’d borrowed from one of her friends. The girl loved books.

Claire explored the ground floor galleries, marveling at the animals that were almost but not quite like Earth species found in similar habitats. There was a large model of a gruffallo, and a taxidermied jubjub bird, as well as paintings, models, and specimens of other creatures. The planet seemed to have never evolved anything like a mammal; every animal she saw laid eggs, according to the information plaques.

After the animal hall, she found herself in a maze-like room filled with botanical specimens, which enchanted her even more. Exobotany was one of her specialties, and she’d only covered half the room when a loud grumble from her stomach alerted her that she’d missed lunch time. Reluctantly, she left, promising to come back later to finish exploring the room.

She found an inexpensive food stall in the shopping district and bought a wrap filled with smoked meat and vegetables, then walked to a small park nearby where she settled on a bench under a tree to enjoy her meal. Once her stomach was full, she was disinclined to walk for a while, so she opened her library book and read a few chapters. Before she knew it, the alarm on her chrono pinged, warning her that she only had one hour until she was supposed to meet Ezra and Cee at the school gates. An entire day had flown by without her even trying and she realized that being freed from a schedule had its benefits.

*************************************************************

Ezra was the first to arrive at the school gates. He knew Cee would be late — the girl was chronically five minutes behind for everything — but he had expected Claire to be prompt, or even early. Minutes passed and soon he saw Cee jogging up the pathway from her dorm.

“Sorry, sorry, Ez,” she called as she approached. “I know, I’m late.” She looked around. “Where’s Claire?”

“I was just asking myself the same question,” he said, glancing at his chrono. It was almost ten minutes past their arranged meeting time. “Perhaps we should form a search party.” His tone was joking, for Cee’s sake, but he was seriously worried about Claire’s safety. Turning a cage-reared bird like her loose in a jungle, even such a tame one as this backwater town, what were you thinking, man?

“There she is,” Cee said. Indeed, Claire was rapidly approaching, walking as quickly as she could without breaking into a run.

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” she gasped as soon as she got close enough. “I lost track of time. I was reading.”

“Really?” Cee asked, her eyes bright. “What book is it?”

Claire pulled a hardback out of the pouch slung across her body and Cee grabbed it from her. “I’ve never read this one,” the girl said, skimming the blurb on the flap and rifling through the pages. Ezra watched the two bond over the book. Claire’s cheeks were flushed from hurrying and she looked a thousand times more alive than he’d ever seen her.

He let them talk a few more minutes before he interrupted. “If you two ladies are done with book club, I could use a bite to eat,” he said mildly.

They looked up at him, Claire apologetic, and Cee rolling her eyes. “Oh, please, Ezra,” the girl said. “You won’t starve to death if we take ten minutes to discuss a book.”

“And how do you know that?,” he replied.

“Because you’ve told me a hundred times how you survived on a single packet of seaweed crackers for a week when your pack went over a cliff on Altair Six,” Cee said, poking him in the stomach.

He swatted her hand away. “That was years ago,” he said. “I’m old now, and more fragile.”

Cee snorted and Claire suppressed a laugh of her own. “You are the least fragile person I’ve ever met, old man,” Cee said.

“Hush, child,” he replied. “You should respect your elders.”

She stuck her tongue out at him and started walking backwards away from him.. “Come on, let’s get something to eat, I’m starving!,” she said.

He shook his head and offered his left arm to Claire. “Ungrateful wretch,” he said mildly. “Whoever’s in charge of that child needs a good talking to.”

Claire slipped her arm through the crook of his arm. “I think that can be arranged,” she said. They set off after Cee, who had turned around and was walking forward for the moment.

He chuckled. “You’re in a good mood,” he said. “I take it you had a good day.”

“I did,” Claire replied. “I went to the library and the museum.” She shrugged. “It might not sound exciting to most people, but it’s been a long time since I’ve had a whole day to spend doing what I want to instead of what I have to.” She looked up at him. “How was your day? Any luck finding work?”

He looked away. “The day was good enough,” he said. “The luck was sorely elusive.” He’d spent the bulk of the day being politely turned away by a long list of employers, who took one look at his missing right arm and shook their heads.

Claire gave his arm a little squeeze of empathy. “I’m sure you’ll find something soon.”

Cee turned around again, still walking. “Just nothing too illegal this time, Ez,” she said.

He shook his head at her. “That was a perfectly legal business transaction,” he said. “The other party just didn’t take kindly to having their intellectual shortcomings pointed out so publicly.” He was stretching the truth a bit; the scheme had been technically legal - his employer had made sure of that - but ethically dubious. Still, he’d managed to escape with his hide intact and a decent amount of cash in his pocket. “But I will bow to your delicate moral sensibilities and confine my job search to the duller but less risky ventures offered by traditional employers.”

To be honest with himself, if it had just been him and Cee, he wouldn’t have hesitated to make contact with the more nefarious element of Galadonian society, such as it was, but with Claire in the picture, he couldn’t risk it. Cee was used to risky ventures and as a minor had deniability. Claire did not deserve to be caught up in anything with even a whiff of scandal. It was only for a few months, and if he hadn’t found anything promising by the time she left, he could take the plunge then.

Cee raised her eyebrows at him and darted a look toward Claire. Damn, the girl was quick. He gave her a tiny shake of his head and she smiled sweetly at him. He’d pay for her silence later.

“At least wait until I’m off the planet,” Claire chimed in. “I’d hate to see one of my two local guides end up in prison.”

Cee burst into laughter. “Oh … oh my goodness …,” she gasped after a moment. “Ezra … your face when she said that!”

It was true that he was a bit taken aback at Claire’s quick comeback. Perhaps Cee wasn’t the only perceptive female in his life. Good lord, I’m in trouble, he thought.

************************************************

Claire stared up the metal staircase. It looked sturdy enough and she’d just watched half a dozen teenagers climb up it, but she still hesitated. “Come on,” Cee said quietly, her feet already three steps up. “They’re waiting behind you.”

Claire nodded, took a deep breath and set her foot on the corrugated steel step. She kept her hands on the railings and concentrated on each step as she followed Cee up toward the platform high above the ground. Tall trees surrounded the metal framework, helping a bit to disguise how far into the air they were climbing. Only the clanging of boots behind her kept her moving along until she joined Cee on the metal grill.

A smiling young woman, only a few years older than Cee and her friends, stood easily on the platform, seeminging unfazed by the lack of guard rail. “Who’s first?,” she asked cheerfully.

“Oh, um, I’m not … I’m just here for moral support,” Claire stammered.

Cee gave her a pleading look. “Oh, come on, Claire, live a little,” she said.

“I said I’d come up here and take a holo for you,” Claire reminded her. “Nothing more.”

Cee sighed. “I know, but I thought once you got up here, you’d change your mind.” She shook her head sadly. “I guess Ezra was right.”

“What do you mean, ‘Ezra was right’?”

“I told him I was going to ask you to do the zip line with me but he laughed and said you’d never do it,” Cee said. “I guess he knows you better than I do.”

The mental image of Ezra shaking his head and chuckling at the thought of her jumping off the platform with only a nylon harness to keep her from plummeting to the forest floor was enough to push down a great deal of her trepidation. “Oh, he does, does he?,” she asked. She turned to the attendant. “I’ll go first.” She shoved the holo device into Cee’s hands. “Make sure I’m in focus.”

“You got it,” Cee said, grinning widely.

Claire’s legs were shaking as the attendant helped her step into the harness and tighten the straps. “Don’t worry,” the young woman said cheerfully. “These harnesses are rated to over a hundred and fifty kilograms and the helmets will withstand a collision at a hundred and forty kilometers per hour. You’re perfectly safe.” She tugged on one of the straps, pinching Claire’s thigh, then plopped a battered black helmet on her head and tightened the chin strap.

“Okay, we clip you on here … and you hang on here … pull this to speed up, and this to slow down, but don’t slow down too much or you’ll get stuck out there. You’ve got to go fast enough to make it all the way to the other platform.” She slapped Claire on the back, almost knocking her off the edge of the grill. “Have fun!”

She clipped Claire’s harness onto the zip line and gave her a little push. “Wave to the camera,” Cee said. And just like that, Claire was airborne.

The cable whirred as she slid along it, picking up speed as she went. Everything was a blur and she felt a scream building inside her chest. Green leaves flashed by as she flew past the treetops. It was too fast and she felt like she was falling and … it was exhilarating. The scream burst out as a cross between laughter and a shriek of fear. She was terrified and thrilled at the same time.

As she neared the middle of the zip line, she started to slow down just a bit. Mindful of the attendant’s warning, she pulled on the handle that loosened the pully’s grip on the line and she sped up a little. Now the other platform was looming larger and larger and suddenly she realized she was coming in too fast.

“Slow down!,” shouted Dex, Cee’s friend, who had taken his turn just before them.

She pulled on the other handle and swung to a violent stop, slamming her leg against the edge of the platform. Dex and the attendant rushed over to help her to her feet.

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” she assured them. The adrenaline from the ride was still coursing through her body and she knew the leg would hurt in a few moments, but right now, she felt nothing.

Dex insisted she sit down while they waited for Cee to make her way across the zip line, which didn’t take long. With a loud whoop, Cee came flying toward the platform, one arm holding the holo recorder out at arm’s length.

“That was mega bril!,” she shouted. “Oh, man, let’s do that again!” The grin on her face quickly crumpled as soon as she saw Claire. “Oh, shit, what happened?”

“It’s nothing,” Claire began, then looked down at her leg. Her pants were torn and blood was trickling down her shin. She had scraped the skin on the metal edge of the platform, taking off a layer or two. “Well, it’s something, but not that bad,” she said with a shaky laugh. Now that her heart rate was slowing down, the leg was starting to throb with pain.

Cee wiggled out of her harness and went down on her knees. “Oh, shit, Ezra is going to kill me,” she muttered as she inspected Claire’s leg.

“It’s not that bad, Cee,” Dex assured her. “She just kind of banged against the edge when she was coming in.”

“Dex warned me I was going too fast,” Claire said. “And I overreacted a bit. Slammed on the brakes and hit the platform. Completely my fault.” Cee looked up at her with worry in her eyes. “I’m fine, Cee. It’s just a scrape.”

The attendant produced a first aid kit and quickly cleaned and bandaged her leg. “It’ll probably bruise in a few hours,” he said, “but you should be fine. Take an anti inflammatory if it gets too sore. We’re always banging ourselves up on this stuff, so trust me, I know.” He chuckled and Cee shot him a dirty look.

The girl insisted on helping Claire descend the stairs and send Dex to commandeer something for Claire to ride back to the cabins on. He came back a few minutes later with an employee in a small maintenance cart. There wasn’t room for a passenger, so Claire had to ride unceremoniously in the back with a bag of mulch.

Cee walked alongside. “I’m so sorry, Claire,” she said. “I shouldn’t have made you do it.”

“You didn’t make me do it,” Claire replied. “I chose to do it. You weren’t holding a gun to my head or anything.”

Cee bit her lip and walked in silence for a while. “I’m still sorry you got hurt,” she said in a small voice.

When they reached the tiny cabin where they were staying, Cee helped Claire inside and onto her bed. “I’ll stay with you,” Cee said.

“No, go back with your friends,” Claire said. “You were all going to do that hike to the waterfall after the zip line. I know you were looking forward to that.”

“But you’re hurt,” Cee began.

Claire cut her off. “It’s just a scrape, sweetie. Go on, have fun and take lots of holos for me, okay?”

Cee smiled but her eyes looked full of tears. “Okay,” she said unsteadily. “You’re sure you’ll be all right?”

“Yes,” Claire said firmly. “Go. Dex is waiting for you.”

Cee nodded. She paused as she reached the doorway. “Claire,” she said hesitantly.

“Yes?”

“Thanks … for calling me sweetie. Nobody’s called me that in a long time.” She ducked quickly through the door and Claire felt the realization hit her like a ton of bricks. “Nobody” must have been Cee’s mother. No wonder the girl had been ready to cry. Claire closed her eyes. She was getting too close to Cee and Ezra both. But how could she not? They were the only people she knew on Galadon.

*****************************************************

She was debating whether the pain in her leg was bad enough to justify hobbling to the main office for an anti inflammatory tablet, when there was a knock on the cabin door.

“Hello!” It was Yung Li’s mother, Bao Chen. Though their names evoked their Chinese ancestry, both Yung Li and her mother had pale freckled skin inherited from Bao Chen’s red haired father. This was only part of Bao Chen’s life story, which she had cheerfully related to Claire on the bus ride from the school to the wildlife sanctuary.

“Hi, come in,” Claire called out.

Bao Chen opened the door and slipped inside. She had a bottle in one hand and a little basket in the other. “Yung Li told me what happened,” she said, plopping herself down on the bed next to Claire. “I thought you might need something to cheer you up.” She turned the bottle to reveal the label. It was an inexpensive wine common at most markets in town. “Don’t tell the kids, but I figured we might need it after three days with them.” She winked and sat the bottle down on the floor so she could unpack the basket. She pulled out two plastic glasses, a bottle of ibuprofen, and a box of cheese crackers. “Mommy’s picnic, coming right up!”

While Bao Chen poured a generous serving of wine into each cup and doled out crackers on paper napkins, Claire shook out a few ibuprofen tablets. The over the counter dosage was laughable; it took at least four tablets to make up the minimum dosage a doctor would prescribe for even the most minor aches and pains. Her parents had pushed her to go into pharmaceutical research, but she’d balked at the legal but unethical practices of most of the med corps. Profit was all well and good, but forcing people into debt for saving their lives - or even just making their lives more bearable - was something she could never be a party to.

“Here’s to our kids … being somewhere else,” Bao Chen said cheerily as she handed Claire a glass. “I’m joking, of course,” she continued. “They’re good kids. I’m very proud of Yung Li.”

“I think Cee is a wonderful person,” Claire said, taking a sip of her wine. It was a bit on the dry side for her taste but not bad. She popped the tablets in her mouth and washed them down with a bigger swig of wine. “I haven’t known her long, but she’s got a good head on her shoulders.”

“And look at you, scoring points with your boyfriend by chaperoning his niece’s school outing,” Bao Chen said. “I’d say that’s pretty smart.”

Claire felt her face flush. “Oh, Ezra and I are just friends,” she said quickly. “And it was Cee who invited me to come. I’m just here for a few months, on a sabbatical from work, and she knew I was looking for things to do.”

Bao Chen gave her a knowing look as she sipped her wine. “Are you and Ezra old friends?”

“No, we met a little over a month ago,” Claire said. She gave a quick summary of how she and Ezra had crossed paths.

Bao Chen looked skeptical. “You’re telling me that you spent almost two weeks in a tiny capsule with that man, and then another two weeks on a shuttle, and nothing happened?”

“Yes,” Claire said. She had been staring into her wine glass but now she looked up. “I’ll admit I find him attractive, but … I’m not the sort of person who can jump into a relationship that quickly.”

Bao Chen snorted. “Who said anything about a relationship? You don’t have to marry the guy to have a good time.”

Claire shook her head. “I know, but that’s not how I do things. I can’t … separate the physical from the emotional. I work for a corp, doing scientific research. We do job rotations every six months. I’m never in the same place, with the same people for longer than that. I know a lot of people just take up with whoever’s available at the time, have some fun, then go on to the next assignment, but for me …”

Bao Chen nodded and laid her hand on Claire’s arm. “You need both. The physical doesn’t mean anything without the emotion.”

“Exactly! The idea of kissing someone just because they’re handy ….” Claire suppressed a shudder.

“So you don’t have those feelings for Ezra,” Bao Chen said. “He’s sexy and he’s here but that’s not enough.”

Claire nodded, but she knew she was lying, to Bao Chen if not to herself. It was much more complicated than that. She did have those feelings for Ezra. Which was why it was even more important not to act on them. Saying goodbye to him and Cee at the end of her short stay was going to be hard enough; she’d learned that when early work friendships had been ended by job rotations. If she let her feelings grow stronger than friendship … she didn’t want to think about it.

“So,” Bao Chen said, “has Cee told you about Sadeep’s mom and Eli’s dad? Everyone’s talking about it.”

***********************************************************************

After dinner, Claire and Cee retired early to their cabin. Claire’s leg was still stinging a bit and a spectacular bruise was beginning to bloom on her upper shin. Cee was worn out from the zip line, Claire’s accident, and a long hike to the waterfall. As they lay on their bunks, she showed Claire the holos she’d taken.

“It comes out of the cliff,” she said, pointing at the slightly blurry vid projected on the wall. “Not over the top like you’d think, but actually out of the rocks. It’s pretty cool.”

“It is,” Claire agreed. “Like a spring coming out of the ground but it’s the side of a cliff.”

“Yeah, and the spring is as big as a river,” Cee said. “The guides explained it. Something about the rock being really porous but there’s a harder type of rock above it and so the river goes underground and then comes out here. However it works, it’s pretty amazing to see.” She sat the projector down. “I wish you could have come. I’m sorry you got hurt doing something dumb.”

“It wasn’t dumb,” Claire assured her. “It was fun. Granted, it wasn’t something I would have done on my own, but I’m glad you talked me into it.”

Cee turned the projector off and nodded, looking down at her hands as she flipped the device over and over. “Claire, can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” Claire replied. She wondered if it had anything to do with the casual “sweetie” she’d tossed off that afternoon. Would Cee ask her not to do it anymore? Had it been a bitter reminder of the mother she’d lost?

“And you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, I totally understand,” Cee said.

“Okay.” Cee bit at her lower lip until Claire prompted her. “So, what’s the question?”

The girl took a deep breath and asked, “How come you and Ezra are just friends? I mean, I know you like each other. I see how you look at each other.” She looked up. “It reminds me of before … how my parents were before ….” She looked back down and resumed fiddling with the holo device.

Claire paused a moment to formulate her response. “I do like Ezra,” she said slowly. “I like him a lot. But I’m only here for a couple of months. Then I’ll be going back to work and I’ll never see him again. Or you, either.” She shrugged. “That’s just the way it is when you work for a corp. They tell me where to go and who to work with and every six months it changes. So I don’t want to start something that Ezra and I can never finish. You can’t go into a relationship like that with a deadline looming over you.”

“Why not?” Cee said. “You can’t tell what’s going to happen. No one can see the future.” She tossed the holo device onto the bed and clenched her fists. “You can fall in love and get married and have a kid and everything’s great and then one of you dies and the other one gets addicted and then he dies and …”

Claire moved over to Cee’s bed and put her arms around the girl. “Oh, Cee, does this have anything to do with me calling you ‘sweetie’ earlier? Because if it does, I’m so sorry I reminded you of the past.”

Cee shook her head against Claire’s shoulder. “It’s not the past, it’s … I loved my dad, I really did, but sometimes I hated him. After mom … after she was gone, that’s when he started using and … I thought he cared more about the drug than about me. And I was mad at Ezra for killing him but kind of glad at the same time and … I’d never tell him this, but I’m happier with Ezra than I was with my dad. I shouldn’t feel that way, but I do. And when you called me ‘sweetie’ it was like, maybe … if the universe sent me a new dad, a better dad … maybe you could be like a new mom.”

Claire closed her eyes. “Oh, Cee, I wish you could have your family back. I wish everyone could have what they want in life, but it just doesn’t work out that way. I have to go back to work. I have a contract. There’s no getting around that. I can be your friend, and Ezra’s friend, but that’s all.”

“But if you could, you’d be more than friends?”

“If the future wasn’t already written, then yes, I might … take a chance.”

“Why not take the chance now?” Cee sat up, disentangling herself from Claire’s embrace. “I want Ezra to be happy. You know he hates his job, he’d rather be out there prospecting, looking for the next big chance. But he’s here because he promised to take care of me. He’s stuck here because of me and okay, so maybe you are only here for a couple of months, but why can’t he be happy for those couple of months? Why can’t you be happy for those couple of months?”

“Because it’ll hurt,” Claire said sharply, surprising herself at her vehemence. “Because it’ll be so much harder to say goodbye, and I’ve said so many goodbyes already. I’ve trained myself to not feel anything for anybody because no one stays. No one lasts.” She covered her mouth with her hand to prevent any more words from escaping.

“But it’ll hurt anyway,” Cee said, softly. “It’s going to hurt to say goodbye to us even if we’re just friends. Why not make the pain worth something?”

Now it was Clare’s turn to bite her lip, to keep herself from crying. “I’ll think about it,” she whispered. “That’s all I can promise, Cee. I’ll think about it.”

Cee nodded. “Okay. Um, I’m tired. I think I’m going to get some sleep.” She placed the holo device on the nightstand between their beds and burrowed under the covers.

Claire clicked off the lamp and crawled into her own bed, but she lay there staring at the ceiling for a long time before she finally fell asleep, Cee’s words running circles in her head. Why not?

[oonajaeadira]

Long Fall Into Oblivion (Ezra x reader)

(header by sirtadcooper - check out the whole beautiful set here.)

Rating: Mature. 

Pairing: Ezra (post-Prospect film) x f!reader

Warnings: Non-explicit sex. Some swears maybe (think there’s a f*ck in there somewhere, my GOODNESS). A lot of gooey, syrupy, soft fluffety fluff. Author attempts at writing Ezra dialogue. A lot of chewy prose.

A/N: I can’t believe I’m posting this, but here goes. I love Ezra. He is a man of questionable morality and an insufferable tongue and I really shouldn’t. But I really do. I just wanted to give him a try. I’ve softened him up here, putting a few years on him so maybe he’s fluffed up some since the events in the film. Also I just ignored the fade or assumed that aurelac mining was still happening because scarcity/demand. Doesn’t matter. Just wanted to go exploring.

Summary: You take a job as an aurelac prospecting trainee and Ezra shows you the ropes. You’re gonna fall in love with him. That’s it. That’s the whole thing.

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MASTERLIST

________________

Bakhroma is one of the smallest gas giants in the sector, but as you stand on the surface of the Green Moon, it dominates the entire horizon, pulling your focus, threatening to engulf everything around it. You almost feel sorry for the lush moon as you walk through its undergrowth, so gentle and full of beauty, destined many years after you’re gone to give its life to her.

A moon is an orbiting admirer, and what is an orbit but a long fall to oblivion?

There’s a painful, sour ache in your heart as you walk back to the camp in twilight, watching the back of Ezra’s helmet bob along in front of you. You’d spent two days digging that claim only to find the weakest aurelac nest you’ve seen yet, only three viable nodes. You’d dug through one of them by accident and completely melted another like an incompetent fool. Kevva’s ass, you were such a disappointment. Three months in the Green and you still can’t cut a blister out properly. Not even once.

Ezra’s shoulders are wide and tense, his one hand splayed out as he walks, running over the tops of the tall ferns, catching one every now and then only to rip the top away, twirl it between his gloved fingers and toss it impatiently aside.

The other two members of your team headed out on a sling this morning, another two will be arriving in a few days. And you wonder if Ez regrets just not cutting his losses and leaving with them, or at least sending you back in exchange for another kip.

You think about shifting through the comm channels, hoping that he’s chattering away in one of them, switched without your knowledge, but it’s a lost cause. You can hear him breathing on the channel between you. It’s not often Ezra has nothing to say.

________________

You thought your father was leaving you an inheritance. It’s not the reason you took care of him through his illness, but you’d dropped everything to be back home with him through his final months. In a way, it was a blessing, a reason to quit the Dasha factory and the terrible working conditions there, come back home and focus on your dad, relive good memories, just spend time. The reconnection lifted your heart, but his death sank it low again. When you learned he had nothing to leave you but a small house and some old vehicles, you sold what you could and traded in the rest.

Then you had nothing. No family, no job, little savings, questionable future. It almost broke your spirit. But the last few months with your father rekindled your love of him as he told you about his years in the Fringe, mining and prospecting. And your heart had said, “what the hell, let’s try that.” So you listened.

It took some time to track down the right inroads, but you were able to find some ads for prospecting teams, in particular those who were willing to take on members in training for a re-distributed cut. With all provisions included--other than suit and gear, which your father’s inheritance neatly covered--it seemed like just as good of a deal as any, and an adventure to boot.

But the reality was, every team you met with was full of hardened men, and while you were not a soft Central woman, you also weren’t overly versed in weaponry and didn’t know if you could defend yourself out in the Fringe against attack if things got crusty.

You were just about ready to admit defeat when you walked into yet another conference bunker and found your match. The first thing you noticed was that he was standing when you arrived, waiting for you politely rather than manspread at the table. Second were his eyes. Deep, brown, and sad. Maybe sad was the wrong word, certainly it seemed by the lines in his face, possibly by the missing arm, that he’d seen enough sadness, but toward you, it read more as concern. You wouldn’t know it until later when he confessed his feelings about this first meeting, but he was worried you wouldn’t choose him. Ezra had a hell of a time hiring partners. He may have been one of the longest-working aurelac diggers out there, but young kippers saw his greying beard and seasoned diggers saw his lacking arm and they all tended to turn around and walk out before he even said hello. So he’d tried to put himself out there as a trainer, show that he had something more to offer.

It didn’t hurt his feelings when you admitted to him later that those qualities were exactly why you chose him. He seemed the opposite of threatening. And his eyes were bright when he smiled at you. With his thrumming baritone and his Fringe twang and his mixed deck of mosaic words, he had a way of speaking that felt like a fluffy blanket curling around you, your brain vibrating with comfort at every new monologue. He was eccentric and perhaps a little jarringly rough in his humor at times, but there was something about him that you trusted immediately, even though you’d come to learn later you probably shouldn’t have if you were being overly cautious.

Not that your judgement ever came to detriment. Not that he ever proved you wrong that way. Not when it came to you. But the man was dangerous when he had to be in a way you hadn’t initially picked up on.

________________

You hadn’t been out in the Green two weeks before you looked up from the bottom of a dig hole to see Ezra standing over you with a thrower.

“You get down and you stay down, understand?”

“Ez? What--”

“I said stay down! Do not make me waste words on mere repetition!” The fuzzy blanket of his voice replaced suddenly by a snarling, snapping brush wolf, a quick change hitting you like a slap in the ear.

There’d been pops and whizzes as shots rang through and you did as your trainer said, face down, the view of your visor giving you nothing but dirt. Your helmet was a chorus of quick breathing from both of you and sweat rolled down your neck as you begged the eyes of Kevva to look down upon your partner. When the crossfire faded, you’d heard Ezra stalk away. Then there were a couple more shots. Then more footsteps returning.

“You are permitted to stand, trinket. All is well as it can be for us. But not so much for our dearly departed friends.” These words were as soothing as much as his previous ones had burned, and he simply went back to working at the dig at hand as if he’d just come back from taking a leak. It wasn’t until you left the site that evening that you tramped past two rotting raiders, gaudily outfitted with broken face shields, left to let the Green take them.

Ezra whistled as he stepped over them, stopping only to harvest their filters and munition rods, which he tossed your way to stow in your pack, and then continued lazily down the path toward camp. Just another day on the job. 

He may be a little peculiar and not someone to trifle with, he may have just killed two people without remorse or further comment, but his lack of reassuring words told you that this was just part of the deal. You wear the suit, you use the air scrubber in the tent, you follow the landing pod instructions as written, and you defend yourself against those who wish to harm you. Survival by any and all means is paramount, mundane, and something he has no qualms with on any level.

There was something deep down inside of you that instinctually pulled you to follow him, not just down the literal path before you, but whatever path Ezra chose to wander.

________________

Before you’d left the station with him, he’d taken you to a thrower range to gauge your skill which was decent in theory, but dismal compared with what he could do. No matter, he still patiently taught you how to properly clean and charge a weapon and the best way to breathe and pull the trigger; “like you’re taking hold of a man’s...well... Just go easy and firm.” He suggested you should come and practice every day before lift off and then hope to Kevva that you didn’t have to rely too heavily on it.

“If I find myself in a coffin of my own suit, then feel free to defend yourself as a final means of preservation. Otherwise, when it comes down to shots fired, best to let me do the dirty work. Might as well keep the blood where the blood has been.”

You’d been a little nervous about sharing a freighter pod alone with him, but Ezra was...well, not so much a gentleman as just a comfortable soul. 

He always waited until you were hungry to eat, thinking it rude to eat alone in front of you. He never moved around the pod while you were sleeping, content to keep still with a book in his cot. And if you couldn’t sleep, he was always willing to read to you from whatever impossibly dense old world classic he was digging through for the umpteenth time, letting his voice come up from the deeps and pull you gently under. If you asked permission to turn on the radio, he’d ask you “why Isn’t it on yet, woman,” quietly tolerating your taste in harsh and gleeful babblecore pshcyopop. In the later days of the journey, he’d even come to dance with you from time to time, although both of you were dismal at it and ended up with you in a fit of giggles. It was a sure-fire way to cure a case of the pouts you carried through from the morning fitness sessions when he beat you at pushups. Again.

When it came to privacy in the tight space, he had a habit of turning away without having to be asked or stopping his stream of talk when you went to change clothes, just happily chattering away until you called the all clear. Although he was not squeamish about his own state of undress, should you happen to catch it by accident. While he was respectful of your privacy, he seemed to need none of his own, but neither did he flaunt anything. You might look up from studying the flight manual to notice he was changing into a fresh pair of compression pants, tugging them on haphazardly with one hand, more concerned with telling you the overwhelmingly disgusting manufacturing process of Bits Bars than his own ass hanging out where you might see it. At least he always changed facing away from you which was a kindness.

Until it wasn’t.

After you realized you’d fallen quietly in love with him--a sudden, soft moment on the Green--then you’d admit only privately to yourself that you wouldn’t mind if you accidentally saw a little more than the occasional shirtless attire he might wear around the tent.

But in the pod, the only part of him that had caught your curiosity was his stump, and you’d known Ezra intensely enough over the past couple of weeks where you knew he wouldn’t take offense. Especially if you asked him the right way.

“Will you tell me a story, Ezra?”

“I feel that it is my duty to do so whether you ask me to or not. Shall I choose, or is there something in particular you would like to hear?”

He was sitting cross-legged on the floor, propped up against his cot, going through his kit, cleaning his gear. You waited until he noticed your lack of answer and looked up to meet your eyes. When he saw that you had put your manual down and were focusing all your quiet attention on him, he stopped his busy work. 

When Ezra gives you his attention, it is absolute. When he knows you seriously need something from him, that becomes his immediate main priority and all else can wait. It’s only gotten more intense since that day, but there is a trust that resides between you when you look into his eyes, gathering your words as he waits patiently every time to hear whatever you’re going to request of him. There’s always hope there in his big browns, always something specific he’s waiting for you to ask, and every day you get a little bit closer to understanding what it might be. But until then, any question is a welcome one, any query is met with his wish to provide.

“Will you tell me how you lost your arm?”

At first you thought you may have gone too far, that maybe you insulted him, as his eyebrows peaked together and he looked down at his hand. But then, “That is a tale that may cause you some consternation, trinket. The Green is dangerous and unforgiving, and there were times I may not have been a man worthy of fair opinion.”

“My father was a prospector, you know. I’ve heard stories. Have you ever killed anyone?”

He clicked his tongue and screwed up an eye, causing the thin white scar on his cheek to twist. Then he sighed and returned to your locked gaze. “To be honest, I have. Though I have never done so with pleasure, I have killed in defense and out of desperation, and it was out of dispatching a man in this way that I came to lose the second favorite of all my appendages.”

“Second favorite?”

“Well, it depends what you classify as a limb.” He huffed a small laugh, a spark in his eye, trying to diffuse the harsh subject in his own way.

His leaning into baseness never bothered you. There was something earthy about it, gritty and rough, but never lewd. You rewarded his crassness with a smile. “Do you plan on killing me out in the Green?”

“I would hope my murdering days are behind me, and if they are not, you would see me aim a thrower at everyone but you in the course of my spree. You are under my tutelage, and for that, I owe you a duty of care. That is my word by Kevva.”

“Then tell me the story. I like your stories. I promise not to judge now-Ezra by then-Ezra.”

A dimple formed on his cheek, a punctuation mark framing the approaching anecdote on his lips. “Then I will declare myself absolved of any sin heretofore and regale you with a clean and grateful heart.”

________________

You can see the tent through the trees and you realize with some horror that it’s just you and Ezra for the next few nights. If he’s angry with you, and this is how he is when he’s upset, the silence will be unbearable.

Even that little girl he helped out here years ago was probably more capable than you. You feel so lost in this moment, and it’s only made worse by his silence. You fumble with your communicator and hit the mute just in time to choke on a sob.

This isn’t like you. You’re not one to cry when things get rough. You hardly shed a tear when your father died. But the thought of that just brings another sob and as acting as your own psychologist you realize that you are experiencing some displaced sorrow, the odd need to please the leading male in your life, the one that’s walking ahead of you, away from you. If he’d just turn around and throw you his worn weary smile, if he’d just start up a conversation you’d know that there was hope for you, you’d know you didn’t give up everything to be here in a job you couldn’t hack.

You gotta stop this. Or it’s going to be an uncomfortable night.

Shake it off.

Once you enter the tent, the usual dance happens. Ezra reaches up to turn on the air scrubber and you unhook his filter tube from his helmet. When he turns to you, you pull open the zipper cover on his suit and start his zip for him before lifting his helmet up and off. He can pull the zip the rest of the way, but you generally pull the left collar down for him so he can get his arm out. He’s on his own from there as you turn to fuss with your own gear. 

________________

You remember it starting easily enough. He was telling you a story about the breeding habits of the Tokovian Musk Owl and you could see he was having trouble with his suit zipper, yanking at it and trying to look down at it even though it was under his chin and his helmet. Without another hand to keep the fabric taut, the zip didn’t want to release, so you simply batted his hand away and started it for him. He didn’t even stop his yammering, just threw in a “thank you” somewhere in between “could hear them screeching” and “for a fuck.” He’d right out asked you the day before if you wouldn’t mind disengaging the filter tube just because it was delicate and he didn’t want to mangle the expensive part trying to pop it out one-handed day after day. And while he could manage the helmet fine enough, his prominent nose thanked you for a smoother removal for sure. 

It wasn’t the only routine dance you’d concocted. 

There was the harness dance.

While dig days were excruciating, you always looked forward to helping him attach the harness for his prosthesis--a kind of rigid pole attached to a shovel so you didn’t have to do all the hard digging alone. There were a couple of straps that came around his torso with multiple latches and you’d come to really enjoy wrapping your arms around him to fit the straps on. Sure, you could do the job just as easily from behind, but if you embraced him at the front, he’d usually raise his arm and let it come to rest around your shoulders while you worked. If you let yourself dream, it would be easy to imagine that he might be pressing you into him just a little bit.

And there was the harvesting dance.

On a dig, you were the one to mix the fazer and Ezra did the pour. He fished the sack, you cut the cord. You sliced the outer casing and held it open while he did the extraction. And with the flesh-covered stone, he told you every time to “hold it like you love it” so he could cut away the slippery blister before cleaning the gemstone.

It was a beautiful harmony. And the only way it worked. Because once on every dig he urged you to do a solo extraction, and on every dig, you pierced the blister and lost that stone. And on every dig, he squeezed your shoulder and told you it was a wondrous try, that he was proud of you, and there would always be another turn. There was no sarcasm, no pity, just a warm smile and ceaseless optimism even though you just lost both of you thousands in pay.

These were the first touches, these shoulder squeezes that ran down your arm on the let-go. Sometimes he would just reach out and grab onto you like a pole to help himself up, or he might stumble off balance on uneven ground and without the counterweight of his right arm he’d throw his hand out onto you to steady himself. He wasn’t beyond lightly touching the small of your back to encourage you down a path or to take your next try at a gem pull. 

This was all part of something you’ve secretly named the left-handed-lover’s dance. Basically, that you keep on his left whenever you can in case he needs your help or has the inclination to reach for you. It started out as just trying to be a good partner. Then it became a passing hope that it was more than just a friendly bond. But you were both here to do a job. He was here to teach you to be an independent prospector and you were here to assist and learn. That was evident at the end of the day; once you were both in the tent and out of the suits he never touched you, never so much as bumped into you or grazed your hand in passing an item or clapped you on the arm after a good joke. 

But out in the field all zipped in and helmets on, there was nothing more natural than his gentle hand guiding you or reaching for your assistance, including the day you realized you loved him.

________________

Before you can turn away to strip off your own coverings, Ezra catches your arm, spinning your face into the light. You try to shake him off, not wanting him to catch your eyes puffy from crying and your cheeks still streaked with tears, but his grip is not so gentle now and he yanks you back around to his stormy glare, chin up, brows low. His intensity paralyzes you, rendering you unable to continue your struggle when he catches your eyes with his.

When Ezra gives you his attention, it is absolute.

His gaze travels back and forth between your eyes, waiting for an explanation, a minute so stringent it breaks you down, dissolves you into the tears you’d tried so hard to hide.

“I’m sorry, Ezra. I really am trying... I don’t know why I’m such a scuffer at this and I know it would only be right to release you from the contract and tell you to send me back but I don’t want you to, I really wanna stay, I really wanna learn and I’m so, so sorry.”

Your words have an immediate effect, softening him, pulling his glare into concern and wonder, his lips parting just the tiniest bit in surprise.

“This is the reason for your heavy mood? You think I am provoked by your proficiency in the field?” 

“I crusted up good today and it seems like you’re not happy about it. Just...know that it means so much to me that...I don’t wanna let you down.”

“Oh, trinket, no.” An incredulous huff jumps out of him and his grip on your arm loosens, becomes a splayed warm support behind your shoulder, moving in soothing patterns and you’re instantly relieved that your assumptions were wrong. “You have done no harm in my book. It is not an easy thing to deliver a gem of this ilk into the world unscathed. Your opportunities have been few and scattered and it takes many sticks before a lover becomes a lothario.” He knows the crass humor will make you laugh, knows what to say to lighten your heart, to get you to soften, and bring you into his intimate, conspiratorial mood. “To be perfectly honest, I am selfish to an unrighteous degree, for every gem you burn keeps me in value to you. A worthy sacrifice to guarantee you mightn’t be so quick in your need to fly away from me until your training’s complete.”

This causes a hitch in your breath as you see the welcome turn the conversation he’s taking and you follow the path he’s making for you. “I don’t want to leave you, Ez.”

A smile creeps up one side of his mouth. “Well then I am a happy man. A bargain is struck! Partners it is.”

“Partners it is.”

A moment hangs between you as he rubs his thumb in slow circles on your shoulder. There’s that look in his eye again, the one where he’s waiting for you to ask the question he wants to hear from you. So close now.

Still, you’re unsure. “I guess I’m lucky I found the one person who wants an incompetent partner.”

“No, I do not, nor is it what I have and I must express my objection to your self-debasement. This work is not for the shiny, and you have not once complained about taking on the meat of the digging or the crawl of my schedule.”  His hand comes to your helmet shield and he rakes his thumb across it as if he ached to wipe away one of your staleing tears. “Those bright eyes of yours got a penchant for spotting deposits more skillfully than I could ever manage and that’s not something that can be taught; that’s talent, girl. The blistering?” He shrugs. “Even I can’t manage that without the steady help of your fine hands. You may think that your blunders in education are causing us some financial ruin, but our fortunes are creamy. I assure you, we can afford it.”

That look is still there. He’s waiting. “There’s some ‘us’ and ‘we’ in there, Ez.” Your hands drift to his sides, taking fistfuls of his compression suit top, willing him closer.

The edges of his eyes take on the crinkle you’ve come to find so much comfort in. “So there is.”

You’re almost there. You know what he wants. “Why were you so quiet on the walk back?” 

“Because for the next few days we are alone here and I have a mind full of questions I do not know how to ask you.”

“Then let me go first.” A yearning happiness settles in his brown eyes; finally. Finally you’ve found out what it is he needs you to request of him. “If I take this helmet off, are you going to kiss me, Ez?”

His eyes close in contentment and he nods, “Yes. Yes, little jewel. Yes I am, that and more. I hope I have inferred correctly that it is your wish that I do so, because I am in free fall. I feel my orbit ending and my pull to you is complete.”

_______________

“A moon is an orbiting admirer, and what is an orbit but a long fall to oblivion?”

Speculating days were some of your favorite times, just wading through the brush and looking for the telltale signs and shoots of an underlying deposit. Sometimes you came upon nests of strange groundling insects or flowers that only grew in secret. There were treasures underfoot on this poisonous moon, but if you remembered to look up as well, you might find some dangerous beauties there too. 

On that day--the one where you finally understood your heart--you’d looked up to find that you were on a cliffside overlooking a valley, the canopy a million different hues of green, the gas giant looming over half the sky in a big pink and orange semi-circle. There was a fallen log that served as a perfect seat for the perfect view and you knew Ezra wouldn’t mind if you stole a few moments to sit and to take it in. It’s just the kind of thing he’d appreciate. And you were proven right when he came up behind you, putting a hand on your shoulder to steady himself as he swung one leg then the other over the log, finding a perch next to you, spouting pretty words through the channel link--soft and low--about moons and orbits and obilvions.

“That glowing beauty is Bakhroma. She is quiet and fierce, made up of the unfathomable and the unknowable, always within sight, but out of reach and untouchable unless one would trade the honor with great sacrifice. She reflects the light that is given to her with a patience that is heretofore untold. And the Green Moon upon which we ride follows where she goes like a lovesick fool, spinning around her in a heady kind of adoration, full of secret treasures buried deep down that will ultimately one day belong to her, falling incrementally over eons until he finally loses himself in her, all his glories gladly forfeit to her welcome and inevitable embrace. Alone but together, seemingly eternal, pulled as one by the laws of a mysterious universe.”

The void that came after those words was filled with the beating of your heart, and you were sure he could hear it through the channel.

When he’d landed there beside you, you’d registered how his hand slid off your shoulder, diagonally down across your back, coming to rest at your waist, his arm draped lightly around you. Natural. Easy. Everything was warm--the colors of the sky, the care with which he kept you close as if to better hear the honey sweetness in his prose, the fire burning in your lungs and neck.

Ezra probably didn’t know that you spoke a little Vayok.

Bakh being the Vayok word for adornment. Ornament, Gem. Roma was a modifier, a diminutive. Small. Dear.

Bakhroma. Sentimental bauble. A little jewel.

In other words, a trinket.

All you wanted to do was sit down to take in the view of an entire world for a few moments, but by the time Ezra took your hand and helped you to your feet, all you saw was him.

________________

The helmet is barely off before his lips are sealed to yours in a press of greed. Even if he can’t form words when he kisses you, he can’t help but express his deep relief in a heartbreaking moan. It’s a fight to release yourself from the suit when he keeps pulling you against him and every time you try to get some space between you to work the zipper, he chuckles into your mouth, enjoying the tease and the struggle. It’s simultaneously frustrating and thrilling and you give in for a few moments just to give him what he seems to want so desperately right now.

Ezra kisses like a man starved for air, long, hard, and full of need, peeling his lips away only to come back for another breath of you until his initial want is slaked and he slows, allows for more time between his taking, his mouth starting to mumble against yours, praising you with pet names, telling you how perfect you are to him, how long he’s “fought against my more dubious natures to respect your womanly virtues and take them only when you could see in me a man worth bestowing them on.”

You’re able to use his weakness for monologuing to turn around in his vice-like embrace, finally freeing yourself of the suit and he takes the opportunity to drawl more pretty words in your ear, warning you that “I’m afraid I have been enamored of you overly long and may be extra eager in my attentions. So you just say the word if you need a slow down, gentle one, and I will do my best to comply. Although I will admit it will be a difficult endeavor indeed as I feel I am entering your atmosphere and nothing might quell this burn but finding some drowning place to land.”

Your first impression of him was of a man whose age and temperament and body would not be able to overpower you.

Your first impression was wrong.

Of course, it helps that you are willing.

It doesn’t take long for him to strip you down, and then himself. To kiss you down onto the floor. To find exactly where you like to be touched most and how long it takes for you to break from it. He has so many words for you, so many praises to sing about every part of you that is round or soft or wet, comparing you to things that are sweet and plush or celestial and holy. And when you take his favorite limb in hand--as wondrous as the rest of his body--and guide it to its fit, he plunders and harvests all you have to give him, filing you with himself, for as long as you call for it, as long as you let him. He loves you like he speaks to you: rough and drawn out, full of beautiful tangents and meandering plotlines, but in the end it is beautiful and fulfilling; you may be just a little bit confused how you got to the ending, but you’re completely in awe.

When you lay breathing heavy, staring but not seeing the ceiling of the tent, your consciousness seemingly lifted to see through it to the stars, to the glowing face of Bakhroma, you run hands through rough-chopped hair on a head laying on your chest. He’s listening to your heartbeat, waiting for it to slow down so he can start again. The air is thick--even the air scrubber can’t keep up with all your humidity--and there’s a halo around each bulb of the string lights just barely illuminating the darkness.

“How long, Ez?”

“Hm?”

“How long have you been waiting for that.”

“Most likely since the day you walked into my interview. I am a man of simple wants and you had all the right parts for my preferences.”

“For real, Ez.”

He tipped his head up to find you. “What you ask has many true answers, and I stand by the first. I have no qualms telling you of my weakness for a pretty succulence and a kind smile the likes of which you possess. But if you are asking when I knew I would have it, well, that may have been the first day you danced. Or when you asked me to read you to sleep. Or when I understood I wouldn’t let those bastard raiders get near enough to take their turn at your qualities when I had not had them myself. Or when you finally saw me as a viable person to drape your affections on; maybe it was that day too.”

“When I finally saw you as....”

“I have read many tomes and verses but none so full of beautiful passages as your face that day on the cliff. There is a difference of knowing and being. I knew the feel of your pull that day, but found I’d been in orbit all along.”

How he can live this way, twist everything into a tossed away poem...it should be exhausting. Yet you feed off it. You breathe it like air.

After another long cycle of frenzied entanglement and violent euphoria, you ask Ezra if he’d like to move to a cot, maybe get some sleep. “I’m not sure if I’ll be able to walk to the dig tomorrow morning,” you confess.

“No need to worry about tomorrow,” he says, wapping his arm around you and dragging you back to him, grumbling into your ear. “We are the only prospectors in this sector and the aurelac will wait. Until our new compatriots arrive, we are officially on hiatus. Recreational mining only. Restricted to the confines of this tent. By order of your supervisor. In the interest of more precious treasures. And I intend to strike it rich.”

“Well. I’m here to assist. And learn.”

“When it comes to this dig, trinket, you are more than competent. I am no longer your trainer. Partners it is.”

“Partners it is.”

The new contract is struck, signed and sealed in kissing and in touch and a long, slow fall into inevitable oblivion.

[sirenreading]

Reincarnation🥀

Paring: Vampire!Ezra x F!reader

Summary: Ezra spent years looking for his lost love whom the Gods promised would return to him.

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Word count: 2.3k

Warning: mentions of : blood and death, PIV, unprotected sex, biting, age gap (obviously) , no use of y/n.

A/N: finally able to post this after writing it for a week, was on such a bad writers burn out ugh anyways enjoy! sorry for any mistakes if i missed them while editing! (creds to @/cinewhore for the idea of vampire!ezra) (creds to gif owner)

You walked down the dark hallways of an unknown castle. Your black floor length dress dragging behind you as you finally see light coming from inside of a room, Quickly making your way in, Your met with a tall man, he's handsome with brown eyes; That stare right into your soul. And a smile showing you his white fangs. You begin to slowly back away as he slowly approaches you. “Don't be scared my love, I have finally found you. This will only hurt for a second.” As he grabs you by the arm, sinking his teeth into your neck.

You awake, Your whole body hot, Sweat coming down your forehead, You try to slow your breathing, throwing the blanket off of you to run to look into the mirror.

No bite marks.

“Sir Ezra, all the invitations have been sent.” A small voice said, Ezra stood looking out the window of his castle; that sat at the tallest hill a little outside of the village. “Perfect.” He said ”Thank you.” slightly turning his head, waving the maid away. She quickly made her way out before Ezra could change his mind and have her as an evening snack.

‘You are hereby invited to Sir Ezra’s Masquerade Ball’

You read the small note, Sent to you and every other woman in the town. Sir Ezra threw this party every 20 or so years, Some say out of pure fun, Some think he's searching for something, or someone.

You set the letter down and go hop in the bath to prepare to do your chores. Once you showered and done your hair, You put on a simple dress from your closet and made sure to pack your knife, That your late father gave you for safety.

On your way to the watering hole you saw women and girls of all ages making their way into dress and fabric stores, All getting ready for the ball. You didn't understand why everyone was so excited to meet this man.’ He stayed up in his castle looking down at all of us like ants.’ you thought

You looked up through the trees and could see the dark castle shrouded by fog, Shaking your head as you continued on.

Ezra sat up in his bed, After dismissing another maid, He barely gave her time to recover before sending her back to her duties. She pulled back on her clothes and whipped the leftover blood on her neck, Before making her way out. Ezra let out a brief sigh, As he stood and retrieved his robe, Wrapping it around his naked body.

He heard three knocks to the door and told them to come in. “How are we this evening Sir?” His butler asked, Obviously asking about the sexual encounter. “She was like the rest of them, Beautiful but, Not her.” Ezra looked out at the midnight sky, looking up to see the stars and the full moon.

“Sir, Your reincarnated love will find her way to you soon, just as the Gods promised; I’m sure of it.” Ezra wasn't sure at this point living as long as he had, Having all the women he had, Throwing ball and the one with the face of his love nowhere to be found. “Sir, The ball is tomorrow, You never know. She may finally turn up.

Ezra turned to him, “I hope you're right.”

That night you awake from your dream once again, You’d had this dream countless times, Never understanding why or what was happening. You would walk into a room, see the vampire and he would bite you, walking you up. You wanted to understand who this man was, And what he wanted with you.

Ezra also awakens from a dream or i guess this is more of a nightmare, The same dream he had since his wife, Elizabeta died. He would go off to war not before giving his wife a tender kiss, Telling her he would return, Only to return to his home, With blood all over him, Finding his wife’s deceased body. Picking her up and holding her against his chest as his tears fell, Yelling to the Gods asking why.

Ezra walked into the bathroom running water over his breaded face. He would have to get one of the maids to save it for him later seeing he couldn't do it himself.

The ball a mere hours away, But all Ezra could think about is having to spend eternity without his soulmate, He’d lost her once, But his future foretold him that he would see her face, on another , again. So he was patient.

You sat as your friend finished putting your hair up in a neat but tight updo. You looked in the mirror at your makeup, the curled lashes along with the dark red lip you had on felt out of place.

“You look perfect.” Your friend said as she finished with your hair. “Thank you.” You gave a small, fake smile. She sighed as she sat next to you. “Ever since I talked you into going to this ball you've been upset, What's wrong?”

“Nothing, I'm just nervous.” You looked down at your gloved hands. “Nervous of what? That Sir Ezra will take a look at you and Fuck you?” you both giggled.

“Of course not, But i've been having these weird dreams, I dont kn-'' Before you could finish you both looked to see her mother knocked at the door, Telling you both the ball begins soon and it was time to make your way up the hill. You both quickly put on your masks and run out the door.

As you both sat in the carriage your friend arranged for you, You stared out the window, As you gained closer to the castle the fog became more intense, You couldn't barely see, the mask was no help. The carriage made a sudden stop, You both got out hand and hand making your way to the opened door of the castle, Maids in dresses greeted all the guests.

You walked into the open ballroom, The room was crowded with people from your town, and even some who didn't look familiar. Your friend whispered that she was going to find a dance partner and you waved her off trying to not show how nervous you were. Something about this castle felt familiar, you couldn't explain it.

You watched all the people in the ballroom as they began a slow song and slowly stepped away to the garden outside. You found the garden to be peaceful. Hopefully it will help calm your nerves. You walked towards a fountain with a dove on top, the only noise coming from the drips of water.

“It's a beautiful night isn't it.” I deep voice said behind you, You gasped quickly turning to see a man, very tall, you couldn't make out his face, due to the mask that covered his eyes, but he could see his deep brown eyes, and tan skin with a little bit of stubble around his chin and mouth.“I didn't mean to scare you Miss, My apologies.” He nodded, as he was about to walk away. You stopped him.

“It's fine, I j-just very nervous, I couldn't even tell you why, Thought i’d just catch some fresh air.” he nodded understanding “may i?”

He said sitting with you on the bench, The two of you staring up at the sky.

“I also needed a break from the party.” Ezra said, breaking the silence. “No nerves, just tired of waiting.” You looked over at him. Something about him felt so familiar. “Tired of waiting for wha-” Before you could finish, A butler holding a tray, called for the man sitting next to you. Sadly only calling him ‘Sir’ so you didn't catch his name, He politely dismissed himself, telling you to enjoy the party before disappearing back into the castle.

After a few more minutes alone you decided to make your way back into the party.

You felt a sudden shiver go up your spine and cold air went across the back of your neck, You turned to see a dark hallway. Just like the one in your dreams, You turned to see if any other guests were experiencing it too, Only to see everyone dancing, laughing, and getting drunk.

You slowly walk down the hall,’ This is stupid’ You think to yourself, ‘You know how this ends.’

You opened a room far from the party and came face to face with something you’d never seen in your dreams, a painting of a woman, she was wearing a dated dress with her hair down her back in a braid.

You and her were identical, You couldn't believe it. You began to breathe heavily and took steps back to leave the room, before you bumped into the hard chest of someone behind you.

“Hello, mi amor” He said into your ear, You turned to see the man who had been haunting your dreams for a year. You wanted to scream but could barely make one out.

“Mi amor, I've finally found you.” He said, grabbing your face between his cold hands. You tried pulling away but he was too strong.

“Don't be scared. I would never hurt you.” You turned your chin up forcing you to look into his eyes. You noticed the small blonde hair streak. “It’s you.” you said whispered.

“You are just as beautiful.” He was lost in your eyes, he couldn't believe he'd found you after all this time. “As all those years ago.” He leaned in kissing your plump lips, You immediately fell under his spell. His lips had a faint taste of blood, but it didn't bother you. A tear fell from Ezra’s eye, He finally found the woman he would spend eternity with, His soulmate.

Once you two finally broke the kiss, you stared at each other once more before Ezra picked you up, setting you on the bed.

“I'll be back mi amor.” He said giving you one more peck on the lips.

Ezra made his way to the ballroom, whispering to the butlers that everyone was to go home at once and all maids and butlers were dismissed for the night. They nodded and Ezra made his way back to you.

While Ezra was away you looked around the room, seeing old photos, books all looked hundreds of years old.

You heard the door crick behind you and you slowly turned, Seeing Ezra put a smile on your face, You barely knew the man, But something about him brought you comfort. Ezra noticed you were lost in thought and asked what was on your mind.

“At first when I had all those dreams, I was scared, terrified of what they meant, I thought it was showing me my future… my death. But here with you, I feel safe.”

Ezra smiled down at you “It's because you are her” Pointing to the woman in the painting, “My wife, my soulmate , my Elizabeta. I searched for hundreds of years to find you, I almost gave up, I was told by the Gods, If I continued to search I would find you.” He stood looking at the painting.

“And I did.” He turned to you making his way towards you.

Taking your lips once more, Your hands tangled in his hair as he picked you up placing you on the edge of the bed. He began to unbutton his dress shirt, leaving him in only his dress pants.

He took in his chest, Everything about him was so familiar and perfect.

“Mi amor, May I?” Asking permission to remove your dress, You nodded eagerly. He unzipped the dress, letting it drop to your hips, before pulling it completely off, leaving you in a bralette and panties. He finished undressing himself , and crawled onto the bed to unhook your bra, throwing it across the room.

“May I taste you, mi amor?” He asked already sinking to his knees, you eagerly shook your head yes, He began trailing kissing from your foot all the way to you thighs, stopping before he got to your core, and slowly sank his fangs into them, you threw back your head in pleasure, you’d been nervous it would be painful but he’s taken all your worry away.

He licked the leaking  blood before moving onto your folds, he lapped at them, drinking your juices before taking his fingers and slowly fucking them into you, spreading your lips apart and attacking your clit as he did so. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you ran your fingers through his soft hair. You told him you were close, he immediately crawled up to meet you face to face, “We're going to come together.”

Ezra kissed you as he slowly sank himself into you, you moaned allowing him to sneak his tongue into your mouth--His hands grabbed at the flesh on your hips roughly. “I've waited a thousand years for this mi amor.” He said as his hips barred into you, With his precise movements he lifted your thighs, “I could show you so many things.” trying to get himself deeper. “Just one bite and we can have eternity.” he said into your ear, the heat from his voice attacking your neck.

You were writhing beneath him. You were so close. “Ezra” you barely made out, your breath shaky. He starts applying sloppy thrusts as he tries to ride out his orgasm , you could hear the moans slipping from his lips into your ear, his warm breath behind your neck. Your hands gripping the white stain sheets on the bed.

“Mark me , Ezra.” You finally make out with a shaky voice, Ezra takes a quick look deep into your eyes, still deep inside of you, asking once again for permission to bite you and make you one of him. You nodded as well as you could before he sunk his teeth into your neck, making you let out a moan as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. “ Te quiero mi amor, now we have eternity.”

****

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[imaginarydesires]

Pedro Pascal

Character Preferences

Kinks ♡

Warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content, elements of BDSM

Notes: gender-neutral! I hope you heathens enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. <3

❥ Dave York

Sadism. After a long day of work, he loves to take his anger out on you - and he loves how much you want him to take his anger out on you. He'll lay you over his lap and make you count how many spanks you get. He doesn't stop until you're bruised. Then he'll fuck you until you have tears streaming down your face. He loves the next day, too, when you send him texts complaining about how hard it is to sit down.

❥ Din Djarin

Cockwarming. He spent most of his life touch-starved, so he loves to have as much contact with you as possible. And what makes you closer to someone than literally being inside of them?

Breeding. This is the Way. The thought of you pregnant with his child is almost enough to make him cum right there and then. It's well known Mandalorian's are expected to pass down the Way of Mandalore - and that's what he thinks about every time he fills you with his cum.

❥ Ezra Prospect

Edging & Overstimulation. He loves to take his time with you and worship you the way you deserve to be worshipped. He wants to have complete control over you and be in charge of how many times and when you finish. He'll edge you over and over again until you're a whimpering mess, desperately begging him for release. And then he'll make you cum over and over again until you're crying and begging him to stop. He wants you to feel completely ruined by the time he is done with you. Another reason this is his favorite is because he loves how needy you are when he finishes shattering you. He is the absolute best at aftercare. He'll hydrate you and kiss you sweetly as you cling to his side needing the tender affection.

❥ Frankie “Catfish” Morales

Thigh Riding. When you just straddle him and grind against him until you finish, he is almost as much of a mess as you are. He has to try not to dampen his jeans just from watching you.

Praise. He loves being told how good he is for you. It adds to his motivation and just makes him feel so damn good about himself. He becomes confident and will do anything he can to make you continue to praise him. If you tell him he's big and filling you perfectly, he's trying to find another position to stretch you even more. If you tell him you love his mouth, he's digging his tongue in deeper.

❥ Jack "Whiskey" Daniel

Bondage. Specifically with a lasso, of course. Not his work one because he doesn't want it accidently going electric, but one very similar. He loves tying you up in general, but the reason he wants it to be with a lasso is because he loves the way you stare at his when in public. During missions or at Statesman's meetings, if he pulls out his lasso, he knows you're thinking about your hands being wrapped in it and it drives him crazy. Especially when you awkwardly shift in your seat, rubbing your thighs together to create any amount of friction to help sedate your heat. No one else may know why you're so flustered, but he takes full advantage of your moment of weakness. He'll play with the rope in his hands, kneading it into knots the same way he would if he had your wrists bounded. Everyone may think he's absentmindedly fidgeting, but you know he's thinking the same thoughts you are.

Whip. For the exact same reason as the lasso, except with the whip he also loves to watch you struggle to maintain composure as you sit on your sore ass the next day.

❥ Javier Peña

Biting. It's like a natural instinct to him. When he's fucking you, he just wants to bite into you and leave little love marks anywhere he can. He loves the way you naturally expose your neck to him and how your instantly moan more when he bites down on you.

He's really not that kinky - sorry

❥ Marcus Moreno

DDLG. He is well past just a simple daddy kink. He wants to be called daddy all of the time. He loves to call you his little girl/boy. He wants to take care of you. He loves when you ask him for things with your little puppy dog eyes, or when you get obnoxiously needy for him and practically beg him to touch you. And don't even get me started on how much he loves when you wear thigh-high socks and a short skirt.

❥ Max Phillips

Biting. An obvious one perhaps, but the feeling of feeding while finishing is a completely different level of orgasmic, for both parties involved. If you consent, you'll have bite marks everywhere by the time he is finished with you.

Blood. Another obvious. He loves the way you look when your skin is stained crimson, especially knowing he is the cause of it. (And I'm not going into details but... period blood. That's all I'm saying.)

Primal. He assumed it was a side effect of becoming a vampire - a literal predator - but he loves primal play. He loves when you try to run or hide from him because he knows he'll find you, and when he does, you're his for the taking. "Baby, I know you're here. I can hear your heart beat. Fuck -- I can smell your arousal, you dirty little slut. I'm going to find you, and when I do, I'm going to taste you in every sense of the word."

❥ Maxwell Lord

Voyeurism / Exhibitionism. Fucking on his desk? Sign him the fuck up. Letting everyone in the room over listen to your pretty moans as he fucks you into oblivion? Sign him the fuck up. He wants people to know you're his, and he wants people to know you are getting fucked good. When there's people around, he's rougher, faster, harder - he's anything that will make you scream out his name. He even loves making you wear toys in public that he controls so he can watch you try to contain your orgasms.

Sadism. Spanking is his favorite past time. There are days he'll look for things he can punish you for, just so he can bend you over his desk and strike your ass until it's bright red. He loves you being completely at his will, eagerly awaiting the next hit. He'll make your ass nice and sore and then spend the rest of the day gently rubbing it at any chance he gets.

❥ Oberyn Martell

Voyeurism / Exhibitionism. He is very open with his sexuality, and he loves when you are, too. If you sit in his lap and kiss his neck while he's busy, he will lose his fucking mind. Especially if you ignore the stares of others while you tease him. If you straddle him and ride his thigh, not caring about other eyes on you as you whisper in his ear how badly you need him. You are guaranteed an immediate reaction, and you are guaranteed to cum multiple times. He also loves watching you with others, specifically Ellaria. He is perfectly content sitting in the corner of the room stroking himself while you and Ellaria fuck.

Pegging / Bottoming. The hardest you had ever seen him cum was when you and Ellaria decided to top him. He was a whining, begging mess, and he loved every second of it.

❥ Pero Tovar

Degradation. He's rough - physically and with his tongue. He is calling you every name in the book as he pounds into you. You are usually his "little whore" or "filthy slut" - but once he can see tears well in your eyes, he'll be sweeter - praising and degrading you at the same time. "You take my cock so well, hermosa. You're my good whore, aren't you? So fucking desperate for me like a perfect little slut."

[juletheghoul]

Mysticus Chapter 5

Ezra x F!Reader Soulmates AU

Pairing: Ezra x F!Reader

Word Count: 3.5K

Warnings: SMUT NSFW 18+ PIV sex (wrap it up) dirty talk

It's smut time y'all - only 1 bed (my favourite cliché lol) hope you enjoy!

Masterlist

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Things between you and Ezra were strange. There was electricity in the air, a charge to your interactions. Between his ever present secret smile, and his closeness, you had the feeling he was in on something and you were always just outside of it.

You had a feeling in the pit of your stomach that you knew, you had the inklings inside you of a massive truth but you kept running away from it. Perhaps it influenced you into driving until the exhaustion caught up to you and he was just following your lead. He was always following your lead.

---------------------------------------------

“Sorry, the motel is being renovated and most of the rooms are out of commission, all we have left are single bed rooms.” The motel attendant told you lazily, she didn’t seem all that sorry. You felt flustered but Ezra turned on the charm.

“My sincerest thanks miss, we’ll do just fine with whichever room you have available. Can I surmise that there is a sofa in said room?” He smiled taking the key she held out. She nodded as she filled out some paperwork and took the cash he laid on the table.

You wanted to pull him aside and tell him that you could keep looking but you were so tired.

So you went along with it and decided that it was just sleep and you’d figure it out once you saw what you were working with.

“My apologies for taking the lead back there Birdie. Please do not take this as an attempt to coerce you into an unsavory position with me. I am just dead on my feet, and of course, the bed will be for you. I am content with the sofa, and if you are truly unhappy then we will pack up tomorrow morning bright and early and set off in search for more acceptable accommodations.” He told you as you opened up the door into the room he’d paid for.

You could see how tired he was, the deep brown eyes which were usually lively and bright were half closed, dark circles underneath. You were both grown adults, you weren’t about to let him sleep on the sofa which looked like a pile of rags wrapped in fabric.

“Hey it’s okay, the bed looks big enough and we’re both dead tired. Nothing wrong with sharing the bed. Here – go shower before you pass out.” You handed him the toiletry bag and guided him to the bathroom. He tried to complain but you shushed him and firmly pushed him into the bathroom and closed the door behind him.

Okay. This is fine. You’re a grown-ass woman and this isn’t the 1800’s, you weren’t some blushing bride coming to the marriage bed. You practically slept on top of him in the Jeep not long ago.

You decided to take the dog out to do her business quickly to distract yourself. Ten minutes later you were back in the hotel room and Ezra was hanging up his towel and getting into bed. You could smell the body wash you both shared and the faint smell of toothpaste as he smiled weakly and got himself settled. The dog climbed up on the foot of the bed by his feet and made herself comfortable as he read a couple of pages of the tattered book he carried around.

You took a little longer than usual, hoping that by the time you got into bed he’d be asleep. Once you opened up the door, feeling clean and fresh but significantly more nervous than was necessary you saw that the lights were off and Ezra was facing away from you.

Okay.

This is good, just have to slip into bed and go to sleep.

Getting into the bed and settling on your back, it felt as though you were lying next to a livewire. His breathing was soft and slow but you knew he wasn’t asleep. You closed your eyes trying to concentrate but your senses felt amplified.

Everything in you wanted to turn over and wrap your arms around him, bury your face into the back of his neck while wrapping your leg over his hip. For a wild moment you thought you might just do it but he cleared his throat quietly and it snapped you out of your temporary hysteria.

“You keep forgetting how loud you think Birdie.” He spoke in a low sleepy voice which shot straight to your core.

“Sorry.” Was all you say, you turned on your side facing away from him hoping that somehow your thoughts would be quieter on your side? The dog, unhappy with the amount of noise the both of you were making got up and walked to the other side of the small room and went to sleep on the floor with a huff. You felt him turn to face your back and you felt as though your stomach dropped. Why were you so nervous?

“Are you alright Birdie? Is there anything you need?” The low question put some very explicit images into your mind and hard as you tried to push them away they persisted. It felt as though your body was on fire, the soft material of your simple pjs was somehow too rough. You could swear you felt his breath moving the hairs on the back of your neck and as you imagined him scooting over and kissing you there you shivered.

“I-I’m cold.” You lied. You weren’t cold, you were aroused. Painfully so.

“Would you be agreeable to sharing body heat? If not, I can get you one of my more substantial sweaters.” He asked in what you knew was supposed to be an innocent tone but there was something darker underneath. Something hopeful.

“Uh-sure. Just for a little bit.” You responded, biting your lip and letting him come to you. You felt the bed move slightly as he moved towards you – reaching his arm and draping it over your stomach before he very decisively pulled you close to him. He tucked you under his arm with his head buried into the back of your neck precisely where you wanted him. His minty breath ghosted along your neck, fanning the flames already burning brightly within your body.

He felt solid behind you as he tangled his legs with yours and placed his hand firmly above your stomach, right below your breasts. Breathing was hard, especially when he moved your damp hair out of his face and pressed himself right into the crook of your neck. Lips right at the shell of your ear.

“How’s this Birdie? Are you warm?” he spoke in a low voice and the proximity of his mouth next to your ear made your cunt clench. You could almost hear him smiling behind you, obviously aware of exactly what he was doing to you. Any thoughts you had of sleep vanished instantly.

“Y-yes, I’m warm, thank you.” You responded, almost whispering. You unconsciously wiggled back to get more comfortable and you realized that you weren’t the only one affected by the close contact. The proof of it currently pressing into the curve of your ass. Your eyes widened and you weren’t sure what it was but you got a burst of courage and slowly wiggled against him again in a way that suggested that you knew exactly what you were doing. You not only heard, but felt him groan softly.

“Birdie, you might think you have some vague idea about what you do to me but I assure you that you do not.” He breathed into your ear as you felt his hand softly start to rub circles into the skin near your ribs, your shirt moving up a tiny bit with every stroke. You felt restless, wanting to take his hand and move it where you needed it. You felt like your whole body was charged with want, and he could feel it.

“Speak to me Birdie, tell me exactly what is it you need.” He whispered into your ear as he started to leave soft little kisses around it and down your neck, slowly making his way to your shoulder. You whimpered as you felt your arousal starting to leak out of you. You felt painfully empty. Being alone for so long meant you were no stranger to arousal and satisfying yourself but this was something different. What was he doing to you?

“I want to hear you Birdie, tell me to stop, push me away from your glorious heat and I will lick my wounds away from you in peace.” He kept kissing your shoulder, biting softly, briefly moving his hand away from your stomach to pull the collar of your shirt to the side. Giving himself access to more of your skin. You whimpered at the loss of contact but he promptly put his hand back where it was, this time moving your shirt away from your body so he could touch the soft skin of your belly.

“Please Ezra – touch me.” You almost whispered as if speaking too loudly might break the spell. His hand moved up excruciatingly slow until he cupped your breast, your nipple painfully hard in the palm of his hand. He bit your ear as he rubbed little circles around your nipple, pinching lightly causing you to whimper as you raised your arm to grab the back of his head. Finally satisfying the ever-present urge to run your fingers through his hair.

“You cannot know how I’ve longed to hear you say those words to me.” He spoke in a low voice, moving his attention to your other nipple as you turned to find his mouth feeling as though if you didn’t kiss him right then and there you’d die.

His mouth found yours hungrily and it tasted like home. His tongue probing, asking for permission which you gladly granted. Meanwhile his hand slid down your stomach and turned your body slightly giving himself more access. He grabbed at your thigh and placed your leg over his body opening you up in order to reach into your soft sleep shorts.

He kissed you almost painfully as he parted your folds to rub soft little circles on your clit. You both moaned into the kiss, you at the feeling of his fingers driving you into a frenzy, and him at feeling exactly how wet you were. He licked the inside of your mouth and kissed you as though he’d been doing it his whole life while his fingers brought you closer and closer to release.

The coil low in your belly winding tighter and tighter as he moved to your opening, dipping a finger into you to collect more of your wetness; bringing it back up to your clit. The wet glide of his finger threatened to throw you over the edge.

“I want you to cum just like this Birdie. Look at me, I want to witness nirvana on this pretty face.” He stared you as the coil snapped and you came all at once, your walls clenching painfully around nothing.

Moaning out his name and seeking his mouth again before he sat up and shed the loose boxers he was wearing as you scrambled to get your shorts off. You were desperate to feel him as you made room for him between your legs.

His cock curved up towards his stomach and you saw the angry red tip glistening with precum. You licked your lips at the thought of tasting him. He hovered above you kissing you softly.

“Birdie, I ache for you, can you sense it? Do you have any idea how much I think about this cunt? I often find myself imagining you like this, spread out flushed and begging for me. This must be a dream..” he trailed off as he pulled your shirt up and took your nipple into his mouth.

Biting softly and making you moan out his name as you ran your fingers through his hair gripping him tightly to your chest. He pulled away and blew onto the stiff peak and you bit your lip.

“No Birdie, none of that, I will hear your pleasure. Tell me what you want, tell me how good I make you feel.” He said as he moved to give your other breast the same attention.

“It feels so good, I want you Ezra, I need you to fuck me, please...” You said breathlessly, blushing fiercely and he looked almost pained at hearing you say it.

“I am in such a frenzy for you birdie, or I would really take my time, watch you fall apart continuously. I want to make you cum with my mouth, my fingers, any part of my being that brings you pleasure but I won’t last. There will be time enough for that later.” He said he crawled over you settling between your legs, his cock heavy against your entrance as he wrapped your legs around him, placing them high on his waist.

You felt another wave of slick leak out of you at his words, the stretch of him entering you slowly made easier with how wet you were, you felt so full. He bottomed out and buried his face into your neck, the clean scent of him surrounding you as he brought one hand up to hold your shoulder as the other one held your hip down. Feeling you clench around him he groaned as he stayed motionless, giving you a second to get accustomed to him being fully seated inside you. You pulled off his shirt and then your own, eager to touch more of his skin to yours.

“Birdie you surpass all of my wildest fantasies, so wet and tight for me.” You moaned at his words as he rocked slowly leaving just the tip inside with every stroke. You weren’t a virgin by any means but this was something else, this was how it was supposed to feel and as you gripped his hair tightly you knew you would never settle for anyone else.

“You feel so good Ezra-god- you’re fucking me so good.” It came out without you even thinking about it and he made some truly beautiful sounds in your ear to hear you. You raked your hands down his back, wanting him closer and he groaned.

“Please.. please - god.. harder” He reached down between your bodies to rub perfect those perfect little circles on your clit as he picked up the pace.

“One more for me Birdie, cum all over me, I want to fuck you while you fall apart.” His voice was gravelly and as he took your nipple in his mouth again you came.

It was almost painful how hard it hit you, stars practically bursting in your eyes, and as he felt you fluttering around him he picked up speed, pressing your legs up higher to get deeper, fucking you through your high. The obscene, wet noises your joining was spurring him on, making him almost feral.

“Listen to how wet I make you Birdie, music to my ears, where Birdie, where?” He was getting frantic, about to pull out but you locked your legs around his back to keep him inside.

“Inside me, birth control” he groaned loudly as he stilled, cumming inside you, you felt his cock twitch as he filled you up, pumping erratically, his cum spilling out of you and onto the bed. You couldn’t be bothered to care as he collapsed onto your chest.

The heavy weight of him was comforting as you rubbed soothing little circles onto his back while he laid there still buried inside. As you felt him snoring softly in the crook of your neck with his cum continuing to leak out of you, you realized there was no fucking way you’d ever look for separate beds again.

When he woke up a few hours later still on top of you he was almost embarrassed, it hadn’t bothered you one bit. You used the time he slept soundly on your chest to really take him in, running the pads of your fingers over the strong curve of his nose, his full bottom lip, the scar on his cheek.

You wondered how he got it, you could almost feel the wound on your own face and you were momentarily heartbroken for him. You imagined him as a little boy crying out and your heart hurt. Pushing it out of your mind you continued your exploration, travelling the miles of his golden skin with your hands. Lulling him into a deeper sleep within the safe space of your body.

A startling realization hit you as you softly kissed his forehead, smoothing his unruly hair away. You’d been numb to the world before he joined you, he felt so familiar, so essential to you now that you had him so close.

Clenching around him involuntarily you saw his brows knit briefly and it made you smile. He looked so much younger asleep, the lines on his face smoothed away. Part of you wished you could stay like this always. You’d been dead on your feet, same as him when you arrived but you couldn’t take your eyes off of him, a hysterical fear gripped you - almost letting you believe that if you closed your eyes you’d wake up to it all having been a dream.

You squeezed him so tight that he woke up.

“My sincerest apologies Birdie, how absolutely insensitive of me to use you thus.” He kissed you softly as he pulled out and moved beside you. Before you could mourn the loss of his heat he pulled you close to him so you could drape yourself across his body. He took your hand in his and brought it up to kiss your palm, he traced the outline of the mark on your palm smiling slightly.

“I’m not upset, you were so tired and it was comfortable.” You answered as he kissed the mark again, he smiled at you sheepishly.

“It did not distress you to have me comatose holding you hostage?” He turned so you both faced each other. The both of you lying there naked in the dark staring at each other felt like the most natural thing in the world.

“I must confess Birdie, I have never in all my years slept so soundly, you may have spoiled me letting me carry on like that.” He pulled you closer so your foreheads rested against each other.

“You snored.” You laughed, kissing him softly before turning around so he was spooning you again.

“Baseless lies I say.” He playfully pinched your side and you slapped him lightly.

“You absolutely did, but it was nice. Kind of soothing. Now I’m getting tired.” You admitted, your eyes getting heavier and heavier. He pulled the blanket up tighter around you and settled his face into your hair breathing you in.

“Sleep Birdie, we have all the time in the world.” You vaguely felt him softly stroking your arm as you drifted into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

It was so hard to get out of bed the next morning, every time you got up he pulled you back in, kissing you into submission. Kissing you breathless. Eventually you had to smack his hands away just so you could quickly take the dog outside. Once you came back in though he ambushed you taking your clothes off and throwing you back in bed, wasting no time in slipping back into you. Your love making a little slower this time, a little more intense, soft groans and heavy sighs from both of you when you both reached your peak. So it went the whole morning; by late afternoon you were starving.

“Don’t you dare move Birdie, I’m not nearly finished with you yet.” His tone sent shivers down your spine and as much as you needed a break and a shower you were excited for him to come back. You walked to the bathroom and the reflection in the mirror startled you. Your lips were puffy from kissing, your hair a disaster, little hickeys trailed down your neck and over your breasts.

You looked thoroughly satisfied and you were. You smiled the whole time you showered, you smiled as you towel dried your hair, and you smiled as he walked through the door.

The dog jumped up to greet him when he walked through the door and he smiled and pet her affectionately, his eyes quickly scanning to find you.

You still wore the smile and he looked at you as though you were the sun. You felt the excitement in your stomach, still nervous even though it felt like you’d had sex countless times.

Your mind produced the image of him looking up at you as he took your nipple into his mouth and you felt the spike of arousal hit you, making you blush. His smile held something else now, as if he could see exactly what you were seeing and he winked at you.

“Come Birdie, let us eat, and then I can get back to where I truly want to be.” The ‘in between your legs’ was implied, you felt the wetness pooling at your opening at his words. You wanted him again, but that could wait. You had so much time.

-----------------------------------------

Tag-list: @foli-vora @frannyzooey @freak-nasty-thick-dick-mando @marydjarin @cannedsoupsucks @thirstworldproblemss @ilikechocolatemilkh @lori-tovar @freeshavocadoooo @hrk-fic-recs @greeneyedblondie44

[stina-is-a-punk-rocker]

jacqueline wilson’s ‘love lessons’

tw: abuse, pedophilia, characters making Bad Decisions, long unnecessary spiel about my childhood like I’m running a recipe blog

It’s funny how loads of the authors who helped shaped me into the vaguely humanoid being I am today have names beginning with the letter ‘J’; Judy Blume, Jeff Kinney, John Green, J.K. Rowling (yikes, I know) … and Jacqueline Wilson.

I’ve never owned a Jacqueline Wilson book of my own; they were always borrowed from a friend, or from a friend of a friend, or from a friend of a cousin- you get the gist. Her books, for me, come with an entire aesthetic: something reminiscent of yard sales, and reading under the covers with a flashlight, and being lulled into a false sense of security by the deceptively innocent Nick Sharratt illustration on the cover until someone’s best friend gets mowed over.

So I knew what I was getting into when I picked up Love Lessons. I knew this was going to be Fucked Up; and boy, was I right.

(Here’s the part where I warn you about spoilers.)

From an abusive dad to creepy child predator teachers to slut-shaming and victim blaming, this book has it all.

The main character is Prudence ‘Prue’ King, who is homeschooled at the beginning of the book, along with her sister, Grace. Their parents remain rooted in the early twentieth century, and are very strict about- well, everything. No TV, no computers, not a single mobile phone in the house; their clothing worse than the orphans’ from Annie; and their father remains distinctly distrustful of modern institutions like the school and the hospital; and so on, and so forth.

Daddy King suffers a stroke, and has to be taken to the hospital. Meanwhile, Mrs. King (a floppy, spineless woman who lives in fear and awe of her, frankly horrid, husband) sends the girls to school, behind the then invalid Mr. King’s back. Cue Prue and Grace being the freakshows of the school, with their strange clothing and overbearing mother.

Grace manages to make friends, but Prue remains alone. The kids are dicks, the teachers are dicks… well, all of them but one. And that’s the art teacher, Mr. Raxberry (I just couldn’t get over that name; it seems like something you’d name a mythical plant from Pixie Hollow or some shit. I’m assuming it isn’t an actual name, since the spelling & grammar check on my computer doesn’t seem to recognize it), or Rax, as he’s called.

Oh, yeah; Prudence’s favorite subject in school is art, and she’s a whiz at it. This is relevant, because reasons.

And here’s where stuff gets murky. Prue develops a crush on Rax- which is perfectly normal. I’m definitely no stranger to it; I’ve had crushes on my teachers, my mum admitted she used to think one of her professors was cute. And yeah, as I grew older, I grew out of those crushes and now have a markedly more refined taste in men (unless he’s 5’ 7’’, born in ’97 and named Bang Chan, I don’t want him); and my mum married my dad, so I’m assuming she did, too. Admittedly, now that my dad teaches at a university, it’s icky to think that there might be students who have crushes on him- but I digress.

My point is, loads of us have liked our teachers. But I doubt the majority of us have acted on it.

And Prue actively showing her interest in Rax isn’t the worst part. That’s a spot reserved for Rax reciprocating her feelings.

Guess Ezra Fitz and Ms. Grundy (yes, I watched Riverdale; please don’t cancel me) have a new addition to the Creep Club.

The age of consent in the UK is 16, if I’m not mistaken. Prue is 14. She’s just barely become a teenager, and she’s being preyed upon.

Because that is what Rax is. He’s a predator; he preys upon this vulnerable girl who’s never been in a relationship before- hell, she’s never even had friends- her father’s abusive, so she obviously doesn’t have the best experience when it comes to men- she’s unpopular at school, with the students and staff alike- and he lures her in. I don’t care how bloody nice he is to Sarah, or what a good dad he is (well, he’s really not, seeing as he cheated on the mother of his children WITH A BLOODY FOURTEEN-YEAR-OLD CHILD)- the guy’s a fucking pedophile.

I was staunchly stuck at a yellow light with him; like, sure, maybe Prue thinks he’s flirting with her- maybe she’s looking at this all wrong, she doesn’t know how relationships work- see, he drew a picture of Sarah, too, in his secret notebook- Prue’s just reading into this too much- up until he says he loves her.

Dude. Humbert fucking Humbert. She’s fourteen, for Christ’s sake, and you’re married. You have two children. She’s a child. She’s probably closer to your son’s age than she is to yours.

(This is the part where I bury my head in my pillow. And scream. Extensively, and with passion.)

The book does make some genuinely good commentary on slut-shaming and victim blaming and abusive parenting. And on one hand, I can see why so many people find issue with the romanticization of the when I kissed the teacher trope- but I can defend it, too.

The book is in Prue’s perspective. She thinks she’s in love with Rax, so obviously, she’s not going to throw in some valuable moral at the end- because she’s too young and inexperienced to think otherwise. And sadly, there are loads of instances of child abuse that go unreported because the victims just don’t know better.

What I have issue with is how the school dealt with it, ultimately. Prudence, a child, has to deal with the consequences of the actions of a literal child predator. Sure, Rax ‘clears his name’ by cooking up some bullshit story about how it was only a crush and he didn’t encourage it, but you’d think other adults would know better and, oh, I dunno- dig deeper into it, instead of blaming it on a child?

“She says you told Mr. Raxberry you loved him and he held you in his arms and fondled you.”

Which Prudence denies, because, again, she doesn’t know better. She then goes on to say that they did nothing wrong. To which the adult speaking to her, in this case, the principal, Miss Wilmott, goes on to say:

“I’m not sure that’s entirely true… I feel that there are some aspects of your friendship that could be considered inappropriate.”

FYI, lady, he kissed her- multiple times (not that kissing her once makes him any more redeemable), and told her he loved her, and admitted to fantasizing about running away with her and leaving his family behind. Fun fact: do you know Prudence is underage?

You’d think that Miss Wilmott would maybe give this whole fiasco a favorable ending, but it turns out she listens to school gossip;

“I haven’t been at all happy with your attitude. You don’t seem to understand how to behave in school. I’ve heard tales of unsuitable underwear and then a silly romance with one of the boys in your class. I feel that in the space of a few short weeks you’ve made rather a bad name for yourself… I don’t know whether you intend to be deliberately insolent but you certainly come across as an unpleasantly opinionated and arrogant girl… I can’t help feeling that you’ll be much better off elsewhere. I shall try hard to engineer a suitable transfer to another school.”

And then she comes out with this gem:

“If you won’t leave, then I shall have to ensure that Mr. Raxberry finds another position.”

“No, you can’t do that! He’s a brilliant teacher.”

“You should have thought of that before you started acting in this ridiculous and precocious manner. If I were another kind of headteacher, I would have Mr. Raxberry instantly suspended. There could even be a court case. He would not only lose his job, he could find himself in very serious trouble. Did you ever stop to think about that?”

Girlboss, gaslight and gatekeep. The fucking trifecta.

Also, by ‘another kind of headteacher’, does she mean the kind of headteacher WHO DOESN’T LET CHILD PREDATORS ROAM FREELY WITHIN THEIR HALLS?

This bitch is out here blaming a child, a literal child, for the crimes of an adult man.

The only time Prue seems aware of the fact that Mr. Raxberry is actually a very shit person is her immediate thoughts that follow after she tells Miss Wilmott she’ll take the fall;

I so wanted to save darling Rax- and yet why hadn’t he wanted to save me? Had he told Miss Wilmott it was all my fault, that I’d got a ridiculous crush on him, that I’d made ludicrous advances to him? … I wanted to tell this horrible, patronizing woman how hungrily he’d kissed me, but I couldn’t do it. I loved him. I had to help him.

NO, SWEETHEART; YOU MOST DEFINITELY DO NOT.

And maybe I’m going overboard with all these excerpts, but here’s what Rax has to tell Prue, after school, following her expulsion:

“I let her think the worst of you, the best of me, just to save my skin. I said it was ridiculous talking about a love affair between us. I said you simply had a crush on me, and that I was just trying to be kind… You were brave enough to stand up to me and force me to acknowledge the truth… I love you… That’s why I had to take a risk and see you this one last time. I didn’t want you to think I didn’t care… Every night when I close my eyes, I’ll think of us together in this car and how badly I wanted to drive off with you. I’ll imagine us walking hand in hand at the water’s edge… I wish I wasn’t such a coward.”

(I burrow into the pillow further. I’m trying to suffocate myself.)

And that’s where I think Wilson went wrong. Sure, Prudence getting expelled for something that was completely out of her hands is unfair, and horrible, but it’s real. That shit can happen.

What’s bad is showing Rax in a positive light after all that. If only Wilson had written Rax to not be the Romeo he thinks he is. Make him ignore Prudence, throw her under the bus in front of her face, instead of this star-crossed lovers bullshit it’s made out to be. Show your younger audience that Rax is not a good man. I’ve got a little over two weeks left for my twentieth; I can see why this is unacceptable. But I was a little younger than Prue when I watched Pretty Little Liars, and my only gripe with Aria dating Ezra was that Noel Kahn was so much cuter.

It shows when you scroll down the Goodreads reviews; you’ve got adults giving it one or two stars, and teenagers giving it four or five, with their biggest complaints being, “but Toby was cuter!!!”

Other non-pedophilia related complaints regarding the book include: Prudence being unlikable- which I didn’t really notice, considering she reacted to some people way better than I would’ve, even at 19 (which probably says a lot more about me than it does about Prue, but oh well). Still, Prudence obviously isn’t the most prudent of people- and again, she’s fourteen. Look me in eye and tell me you weren’t an arsehole at that age (unless you’re fourteen now, in which case, I assure you that you’ll look back on yourself someday and go ‘wtf was I thinking’). Bringing up Toby’s dyslexia in an argument was low, though.

There were people who thought the Kings’ almost-Amish lifestyle was exaggerated and unrealistic, but I assure you, it may very well be real. There are 8 billion people on the world- it’s fair to assume that several of them are complete weirdos.

Grace was a sweet character, and I adored her with every fiber of my being. As were her friends Iggy and Figgy. Honestly, I would’ve loved a book about Iggy, Figgy and Piggy’s (mis)adventures too.

[formulax]

A Few Thoughts on Family -- Simon Nightingale

I have a “worrying” issue.

I've always had this problem. It was much worse when I was younger, and that’s when I started to keep a personal journal. Even if I wasn't completely honest with myself back then, putting my worries onto paper helped. I was writing them into a book that could be closed and put away. And... it helped me to work through my worries, in a way. Process them and organize them when they came to be too much. Thought is hardly ever simple, after all.

I've been Simon Nightingale for a month now— been myself for a month now. This quaint house has proven to be smaller than what I am used to from a home on land, of course, but the crew gave me more money than I can handle in this small town, and anyway, I’m more than happy with the decision I've chosen. It’s quiet and cozy here, and I'm living comfortably compared to life on a pirate ship.

I’m becoming part of the community. I take my walks to the library, to the market, to the Marigold household, and I've been recognized, been waved to. The librarians know me, and smile when I walk in. There is even a black cat I now feed that follows me to and from my home; company that is much appreciated.

I’ve missed this... but it's not quite the same, of course. I do not hold much social standing here, aside from being “a friend of Angel's,” which admittedly has gotten me a long way in gaining my own friends. But... well that's just it. I am a friend! Not a soldier, or a son of a naval officer. The townsfolk here dislike such people, anyhow, and I’m beginning to think I do as well.

With my newfound free time I've cataloged my experiences in the pirate world and written as much as I could about its wonders, and I’ve hit a bit of a block with it. Overwhelming myself with writing, I suppose. So I've been taking a few days to just exist in my new world, and look inwards at myself (which is something I am not accustomed to one bit).

I mention my “worrying” issue because I've been having a bit of trouble sleeping lately. When I think about Angel, Kipp, and Ezra, I start to feel that dreadful fear. They have not visited yet, and I know that they’re quite busy, but when you see someone every day for so long and then suddenly separate, it’s just... difficult. So, I am nervous. Terribly nervous. Afraid that they will never visit, that they will never return because something tragic has happened. I did ask them to send me a letter every time they stopped at a port.

It’s getting late, and I should rest, but I need to get this written down. Last night, as I was trying to sleep, I had a thought that disturbed me. I wondered if this is how my mother felt when I was away.

I did not send her many letters.

I’ve been spending time at the Marigolds’ place in the market, running errands and putting fresh fish on display for some extra money.

They told me a little bit about Angel.

They did not name him; he was left at an orphanage by his alleged parents, who we now know were Vincenzo Cielo and the (former) Guardian Mariah, with a note and the infamous amulet. The note had a vague explanation, a command to keep the baby loved and cared for, and Angel's name. The Marigolds took the child and heeded the note.

“You two’re good parents,” I said. “You care so much. How do you handle him being away? On dangerous quests, no less.”

Mrs. Marigold looked at her husband and smiled. “Our son is much too stubborn to die,” she said. They both chuckled. (They at times can be a little morbid.) “But anyway, he was in good hands with you, and he is now with Ezra and Kipp. You boys have good souls, you do.”

“He writes,” Mr. Marigold added. “When he’s able. He’ll write you. And it will be pages and pages long.”

It is past midnight, judging by the moon. I can’t sleep, and I need to get some things off my chest.

I am guilty. I will always be guilty, for the rest of my life, about leaving my mother behind as she died. I did not want to see her sick... but I did not want to see her sad either. She was often sad and it hurt my heart and I thought that there was nothing I could do to cheer her up. But somewhere deep down I knew that coming home as a Captain would make her even sadder, and that means that somewhere deep down I knew that she wanted me to quit. She was sad because of what I had become. It all seems so obvious now and it makes me so upset that I sometimes need to cry. It was a mistake to be away for so long. It was a mistake not to write her and tell her about the stars in the sky where I was. It was a mistake to disregard her just as everyone else in my family did.

She was SICK and she was SAD and she was ALONE. I feel like I KILLED her. And now I can never tell her I’m sorry, or show her how much I've changed for the better.

The black cat that has been following me around town is meowing at the window. I’m going to let her in and try again to sleep.

It’s the morning— I feel calmer than I did last night. Talking to the Marigolds about Angel got me thinking about my own parents, and... awful things just seem so much worse late at night. My thoughts got out of hand.

I... well. I did not have a tight knit family. My parents did not love each other— at least not while I was around— and my extended family was as cold as my father was. We did not talk about feelings; my parents hardly spoke to each other at all. I had no siblings, and I did not relate much to my younger cousins.

There was my mother and I, of course, but our relationship was often sabotaged, either by my father or by myself. I think he was jealous of her, of my similarities to her, and so grew to resent her. As I sought to impress my father, I began to resent her too, though I was never conscious of it, and never would have admitted it.

We were closer when I was younger. She held her ground on just a few things, one of them being my physical safety, and as a result I did not go on long trips with my father when I was a young child. I spent more time with her, then; she was my teacher, and I loved to hear her talk about her passions. She read me stories, she showed me local wildlife. We watched the stars for hours on end, and she would help me trace constellations with my finger. The world was so big, and we were so small, and she found that so magnificent.

She was the closest thing I had to a family. And I sometimes wonder what would have happened if I had done things differently, but in the spirit of improving myself I know I have to own up to my mistakes, and accept them, no matter how terrible they make me feel. Life would have been so different if it had just been her and I— but that was never a possibility, and lingering in the past isn’t ideal, I know.

The thing is, I have a family now— it’s not conventional in the slightest, that’s for certain— but Angel, Kipp, even Ezra... I consider them family. I have been through so much with them, have watched them grow so much as people; and they have helped me grow, as well. They supported me at my worst, and helped me come to the decision to live like I do now. I miss them all, and it’s frightening to think that they’re out there without me, without my extra protection and guidance.

I don’t mean to sound self-centered. They can take care of themselves. It's just a matter of family. I just want to do things better this time.

I was helping the Marigolds at their shop today, and thank the Lord, a letter from Angel arrived! I just about hugged Mrs. Marigold when she handed over the one meant for me... Pages and pages long, like Mr. Marigold said.

Angel says things have been going well, but everyone is missing me. They’re headed off on another mission— Ezra reportedly had another Eye-induced dream— and they’ll head back in my direction after they’ve done that. He says he’s dying to know how I’ve been doing, and I better be missing them just as much. This is, of course, very condensed.

It is such a relief to hear from them, and I haven’t been able to stop re-reading the letter since I got it. It’s midday, and I’m in bed, the black cat sitting at my side. (She lingers in my house more often than outside now, and I don’t mind.)

Angel's last sentence to me was, “Don’t get too lost in your thoughts, Simon Nightingale— your mother would be so happy for you right now.”

I’ve never understood how he always knows exactly what to say.

[xwing-baby]

The Guide: Chapter 1/? (Ezra x f!Reader)

gif from @spectroscopes

word count: 5.2k

chapter warnings: reluctant saviour to lovers, injury to reader, one mention of rape, little angst, world building :)

summary: The Guide to Everything Ever is expanding, you are sent out to the furthest reaches of Nowhere to catalogue the planets there. What should have been a quick research mission quickly turns to disaster when you crash on a small forest moon. Injured, with no means of communication, you have to rely on the good will of a mysterious stranger...

a/n: first ever Ezra fic lets gooo!! i am super hyped for this i hope you all enjoy it as much as i do <3

masterlist // asks are always open :)

--

While The Guide to Everything Ever did cover everything ever, it was a little misleading in the boundaries of everything. History was no issue, there was even a large section of the book on prophecy, millions of consequences mapped out on a fold out flow chart. No, the issue was with physical boundaries of everything.

A long time ago the boundaries of the civilised universe were drawn up. From Eden to Xion-5, trillions of stars and quadrillions of planets all included inside the red line separating us from the somehow even more vast expanse of Nothing. There was nothing in Nothing, that much was well known. That was until a group of explorers did what explorers do and found Something. Something in Nothing makes Nothing impossible so the leaders of this great universe came together and decided The Guide to Everything Ever had to include this new Something in their Everything.

That is where you come in.

The Guide to Everything Ever has always relied on first-hand experience. The first edition was a disaster. It only contained the things everybody knew: how to fold a bedsheet and how to get your dog to not hump the postman. The only vaguely interesting part of the Guide was the planetary comments. Even those could send the most interested scientist to sleep! They tried using robots for the first edition, a mere collection of data from far away planets. This was not successful and The Guide only sold four copies.

The next edition was more ambitious. The editors worked out people were a lot more interested in different planets than they were in barbarian fortifications but they did not want to read reams of boring data from a robot called Steve. They wanted a real Steve to give his experience on these new planets. Honest, often humorous, and yet entirely educational extracts of missions across the stars. It didn’t matter that space travel was accessible to everyone. It saved everyone a lot of time waiting in those cold and boring shuttles to get from one side of the universe to another. They could sit in the comfort of their own homes and learn about the man-sized carnivorous plants of Ereta, the beautiful fabrics created on Lii, or which drinks to avoid if you ever find yourself in a Beetjing bar.

The Guide was a success from that point onwards and expanded each year. Soon the job of researcher became a coveted occupation. You were lucky to get into the academy. Only ten new researchers were added each century. You worked your entire life to get in and it paid off, you were off on your first mission into the furthest reaches of Nothing to report back on the wild ‘verse that filled it.

A long time ago space travel was thought of as the most exciting thing anyone could ever do. It was for a few decades but two centuries later it was commonplace. A lot like the London Underground, you just stuck your headphones on and let that distract you until you reached your far more interesting destination.

For your trip you had chosen to watch Anzarch Hospital. A rather cheesy Martian holovid show, it had been going for years. You were on season 85, with only ten episodes left until you were entirely caught up ready for the season finale which was due to air when you returned from this trip. You would rather be at home watching the episodes but this trip to the end of the line was necessary. It wouldn’t take long, a few rotations at least and then you could go to Annie’s party and watch everyone’s favourite doctor finally find out who killed her robot nurse wife.

Nobody ever said Martian holovids were high class, but they were fun.

The computer interrupted your binge, alerting you with a ding that you were within range of your destination and would be stepping out of hyperspace. You pressed a few buttons, accepted the action, and went back to the episode.

It wasn’t until a few moments later when the lower pitch dong did not sound to let you know you had dropped out. Confused, you switched off the holovid and moved back to the cockpit. It was a new ship, it shouldn't have hyperdrive issues yet. But well versed as you were with glitchy hyperdrives you knew what to do. You pressed some buttons, pulled a lever, dragged the ship out of autopilot and twisted one final knob to drop out safely and without panic.

Your routine was correct. The ship dropped out of hyperspace but as the darkness cleared so did any sense of calm. You were already in the thermosphere, hurtling down to the forest covered grounds at electric speeds. Alarms blared as soon as the devices registered the new atmosphere and severe lack of control.

“Please slow down, your destination is ahead at 750 km,” The computer said cheerfully.

“Stupid thing! You’re going to kill me!” You yelled over the alarms.

“That’s not very nice,” The computer replied, “It’s not my fault the hyperdrive isn’t working,”

“You knew?” You shouted. The sides of the ship rumbled and rattled as the change in air density dragged along the surface. The holoprojector vibrated off the table, crashing to the ground and smashing into pieces. There goes all your holovid downloads, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Destination in 400km,” Every minute of your training was coming back as you worked through every combination of buttons and levers on your dash. Nothing was working.

“Computer? Is there still a parachute in this model?” It was archaic but you prayed that your ship was old enough to still be fitted with one. If it, wasn’t you were never going to slow down fast enough?

“Yes, would you like me to deploy it?” The computer asked.

“Yes!” You shouted at the machine.

“Deploying parachute,”

The parachute erupted from the back of the ship with a loud hiss and pop as it opened into the air. The sudden draw backward lurched you forward, smacking your head onto the metal dash in front of you.

You groaned, holding your hand to the injury immediately. A good splattering of blood now set across the screen and was dripping down your face into your eyes.

“Destiable approach im one minu,” The computer said. You frowned, trying to concrete over the throbbing pain in your head. “Systeeee affectabed,”

“Please tell me I’m not having a stroke,” You pleaded. You were not. You could speak and understand language perfectly. The computer, however, was not okay.

Computers are all well and good, very helpful things to have around that is until their processors are catapulted out by a poorly fitted fabric parachute.

You didn’t have time to worry about the broken computer as the trees below were coming closer and closer.

“Fourteenth millennia remaaaa,” The computer slurred. You ignored it. You didn’t need a reminder of how closer to being impaled by a huge tree you were. Instead of panicking you did the only thing you could, strap in and hope that it was all over quickly.

You pulled the straps of the pilot’s seat down tight over your arms, gripped the armrest tight and shut your eyes. The ship whistled through the air, the drag of the parachute doing very little to slow it down. You screwed your eyes shut, cursing every god you have ever known at your terrible luck. You would never see your family again, never see your friends again, and even more importantly you would never find out who killed the nurse in Anzarch Hospital!

The first contact with forest sent the ship off its course, spinning wildly out of control as the craft hit branch after branch. You screamed as the ship tumbled to the ground.

Finally, you came to a stop. Upside down, hanging from a tree, your ship rocked from side to side. You groaned, aching all over from the rough treatment of your descent. You spat out the blood that had pooled in your mouth and tried to think of a plan. Much like the now dead computer you couldn’t really think in words. More drawled sentences drowned out by pain.

The smell of fuel was the thing to get you moving. You gently unbuckled yourself from the seat, careful to not drop yourself on the ceiling and injure yourself anymore. You climbed around the small circular pod to reach the door.

Inhospitable atmosphere. Air unfit for external respiration, respirator advised.

You grumbled and cursed as that warning meant you’d have to climb up the wall of the still swaying pod to reach your kit. It was heavy and difficult to put on at the best of times, this was quite possibly the worst of times.

With a sharp tug the suit and helmet fell out of the cupboard above your head, narrowly missing you as it fell. Carefully, so as not to trip on the steel beams of the ceiling at your feet or cause the ship to swing and fall any further, you pulled the suit on. It was soft, having never been worn before, lightweight and fit you well. The helmet was heavy, a seal at the bottom to prevent any toxins leaking in and the filter was attached to the back of the dome. It was not ideal but you hoped you could find civilization quickly and would be able to take it off fast.

Helmet on. Bag on. Boots tied. Out the door.

In the small amount of luck, you still held, the ship was only six feet above the ground. You sat on the top of the door and jumped out, landing gracefully on your feet in a large patch of unusual plants. The air filter quietly hummed as it set to work cleaning the air around you and you inspected your surroundings. That was where your luck ran out, as you gathered yourself together you looked to your wrist, to the screen of your watch to look at a map to discover the direction you should go, only to find it smashed beyond repair. You had no guidance.

Dark forest was all you could see in any direction. The canopy was so dense only a small sprinkle of light made its way to the floor. Bouncing off the particles in the air, the space around you glittered in the light. It was silent, only the wind rustling through the grass and twigs under your boots made any noise. You picked a direction and walked, hoping you would come across someone soon.

You found a single well-trodden path after an hour of walking through waist high grass, the pollen of which had now covered your suit in a green blue film that made your hands itch terribly when you touched it, bringing up red rashes almost immediately.

The path made its way through the trees, more light coming through as you made it to the edge of the forest. You couldn’t make out much beyond the break in the trees as the contrast between the darker interior showed the outside in white light. You smiled; open space probably meant civilisation!

As you approached the light your eyes began to strain. Sharp pain cut into your eyes, you groaned and squinted bringing your hands to your helmet to cover them automatically. It was no use as a migraine was quickly taking hold. You continued forward, finally breaking the tree line, feeling the heat of the sun through the thin fabric of your suit.

Then everything went black

--

“What a curious creature,” A low voice woke you. Slowly you gained consciousness, immediately aware of the throbbing pain throughout your body, you pushed to sit up only to feel a heavy weight on your shoulder, “Careful now,” The stranger warned you. You peeled your eyes open and looked up at the creature that spoke. Dome headed in a yellowed fabric suit, Light reflecting off his head obscured his face. The creature spoke kindly and you would have believed the tone too if it weren’t for the pressure of his foot on your forearm and gun in your face. “What’s a thing like you doing in these parts?”

“I-I’m injured,” You tried to speak confidently but your pain overtook your tone as you opened your mouth, “My ship crashed not far from here,”

“Curiouser and curiouser,” The creature mused.

“Please,” You choked out as darkness threatened your vision once more, “Help me,”

The creature frowned, contemplating his decision as if he were choosing a candy bar at a corner store. You tried to move from under him but the effort was too much and you fell into unconsciousness again.

As your eyes closed and breathing softened, the stranger released his foot from your shoulder. His boot left a muddy footprint on the white material that covered your arm. He watched you for a few more seconds, then presuming you were dead he stepped over your body to the blue rucksack that had fallen just behind you. He was in desperate need of medical supplies and clean clothes wouldn’t hurt either.

The stranger rooted through the rucksack, pulling all kinds of things out. Clothes and food, writing equipment and a flip up device that he did not recognise as anything useful. There were no weapons, and no survival equipment of any kind. You were packed for a Sunday stroll, not a trip to the Green. Whoever you were, you were not like the usual people who came here.

The stranger’s cool demeanour changed when he saw your identification card. A gold card, approximately the size of his palm fell out of the bag and into his lap with a soft tap. He picked it up and inspected it, instantly knowing he was screwed. The Guide’s golden emblem was easy to recognise, while he couldn’t read the language that inscribed the card, he could make assumptions. You were a researcher. It was a well-known fact that Guide researchers were protected. If anyone found out you were dead, he would be convicted no matter what he said. There would be no planet in the entire universe he could hide on from the Guide.

Begrudgingly, he had to save you.

Without any other option, he shoved the contents of your bag back inside its original case and threw it over his shoulder. Then came the difficult task of moving you. It wasn’t for lack of strength that the stranger had difficulty with this task, more to do with the fact he had only one arm. He knew it wasn’t far to his camp, he had only been walking for five minutes before you fell into his path.

He couldn’t carry you. With only one arm it didn’t matter how strong the man was he could never hold you up well enough. He tried to wake you first, it would be far more helpful to him if you could walk. He shook your shoulders to try and rouse you but you were out cold. He had no choice but to drag you.

A quick assessment of your body told him you were not injured too badly, apart from the sores developing on your hands from exposure to pollen and a wound on your forehead inside your helmet. He checked your pulse again, feeling it strong through his gloves he was happy that you were not dead and would not be wasting his time. He grabbed the fabric around your shoulders and pulled you back to his camp.

It took a while but he made it there safely without cracking your helmet or injuring you anymore. He set you down on the floor of his tent, pulled his helmet off for comfort, then got to setting up a recovery bed for you.

The stranger pulled a rolled-up mat from under his cot and placed it on the ground and finally rolled your body in its final place on top and he waited for you to wake up again. It wouldn’t take long, he heard you mutter something as he carried you back and even in the low light of his tent, he could see your eyes moving behind your eyelids. The stranger sat on the edge of his cot, watching you carefully with his weapon in hand in case you woke up violent.

After a few moments, you began to stir. The first thing you noticed as you gained consciousness was the pain in your body. Every inch of your body throbbed but nothing more than your head. You felt hard ground beneath you, but no leaves or dirt, it was cold to touch. You peeled your eyes open, met with a low orange light bouncing off dark tent like material.

“Do not be alarmed,” A man said from across the room. You immediately turned your head to see but saw nothing more than a dark blob, “You are safe,”

You found it very hard not to be alarmed. The last thing you remembered was getting out of your ship into a forest, now you were in a small dark tent lit by one single golden lightbulb with a strange blob sat across from you.

Carefully, you pushed yourself up to sit up from your position on the floor. Noticing the blob was more of a man, and without a helmet, you figured it was probably safe to remove yours. With a sharp tug and a hiss from the oxygen tank you were open to the air and you set the helmet down next you. You rubbed your hand across the back of your neck, screwing your eyes shut as a headache shot through your skull.

You studied the man in the soft light. You could not guess his age, simultaneously old and young, you guessed he was a little older than you. He had tanned skin and dark hair with a curious white, blonde streak in the front. A surprisingly well-kept moustache and a spattered beard covered his lower face and a white scar on his left cheek all together created an intriguing character.

“Are you comfortable?” He asked. You nodded. His kindness was unsettling. There was a gentle tone to his voice and a kindness in his eyes but everything outside of that was the complete opposite. You could not remember how you got here; all you knew was the pain your body was in. Had he attacked you? Had he saved you from something else? He could have killed you, but he didn’t. Something must have enticed him to save you and bring you here. Then you saw it.

In the stranger’s hand, he held a gold card. Your identification card. The golden emblem projecting from the card flickered in the poor light, showing your name and number and rank.

“Should I be asking for an autograph?” The stranger looked back up at you, a smirk on his lips, “I’ve always wanted to meet an author,”

“I-I am not an author,” You coughed, clearing your throat before speaking, “I’m a researcher,”

“You pen those books though, don't you? The Guide?” He asked, “There’s not that much literature being produced this day and age,”

“Technically, but we like to think it’s a team effort,” You shrugged, “I just collect the data and write preliminary reports,”

“Does your team know you’re lost here?” The stranger asked.

“No, I… I don’t know,” You said sadly. The computer had broken before you could send a distress call. With no way to get a message to them from the outer ‘verse it would take weeks for anyone to realise anything was wrong, “I would have to find a signal strong enough to send a distress message but the only way I could do that was with my ship,” You thought aloud. You paused for a moment, trying to remember what actually happened when you fell from the sky, “Where is my ship? Where are we?”

“I never saw your transport I’m afraid,” The stranger said, “You must have walked a considerable distance before crossing paths with me,” You frowned, without your ship you were stuck, “I brought your backpack, if that's of any aid to you,”

You immediately lit up. Taking that as a yes, the stranger reached over the cot and pulled up your rucksack. It was caked in mud and a lot less full than you know it should have been, but you ignored his looting and grabbed the bag from his hands.

The only things left inside were your underwear and a hygiene kit. Your stomach twisted at the thought that you had lost the most important item in the bag. Dumping the contents on the floor you searched through every pocket. The Stranger watched you, one brow raised, wondering what you were looking for.

“Did you take it?” You asked, “It won’t work for anyone but me, you might as well give it back,”

“I do not understand,” The stranger looked puzzled, looking down at the things on the floor to see what had upset you.

“My Guide, where is it? I don’t care about the other things, I need that back,”

“There were no books in there,”

“That is Federation property,”

“You’re going to have to explain what it is you’re so agitated about; I do not know what your Guide is,”

“You do, because you stole it!” You exclaimed. Raising your voice made your head hurt more, you flinched and screwed your eyes shut again.

“I am many things but I am not a thief,” The Stranger was offended by your accusation. You scowled at him. He was a liar and a thief, “I took the food from your bag as payment for my saving you,”

“The Guide uses my biometrics, it won’t be of any use to you or anyone you could sell it to,”

“Hold on, do you mean the flip device?”

“Yes!”

“That thing’s important?” He seemed genuinely surprised, “You can have it, it’s no use to me,”

The stranger stood up and walked the two steps to the other side of the small space. From a cluttered table he picked up the black computer. You sighed in relief, there could be some hope for you yet. He passed you the gadget which to your amazement was still in working order. It had got a little scratched in the crash but you pressed your thumb to the lock and it opened it instantly.

Every researcher had their own personal guide. Similar to an ancient flip phone, used commonly on Earth in the early 2000’s, each Guide was a little bigger than your palm. Though small, it was very mighty. Not only did it store every piece of information a researcher collected, but it also allowed communication through text, audio and holo. Through the System there was unlimited access to other researchers' files, yet unpublished information and access to the ‘verse's existing records. There were maps and history of every planet, and more importantly to you at that moment, census records.

As you had expected, you had no signal on the surface of the moon to send a message to headquarters for a rescue. Instead you focused on what you could find out.

From the corner of your eye, you noticed the man’s suit. Though a little hard to read in the dim light you could make out what looked to be an ID number. You had to know who your captor (or saviour) really was. 875-162.

You typed in the worn black ink digits and waited. Nothing was notorious for its poor reception. The stranger was no longer interested in you know you were engrossed in the computer and not trying to attack him, he got up and was rustling around out of view.

Finally, the page loaded. A photo matching the stranger, though a little younger looking, flashed up in holo. You quickly covered the beam with your finger so as not to alert the man with you. You swiped down to read the information.

“Ezra,” You said under your breath as you read the page.

“I don’t remember giving you my name,” Ezra spoke, making you jump. You looked up, cheeks growing hot as you realised you had said it out loud.

“I searched your ID number,” you said, embarrassed you’d been caught, you told the truth. Ezra frowned, looking around him to see where you had seen it. You pointed to the suit piled up on the floor. The numbers were faded and hard to make out from the distance but you had worked it out. Ezra followed your finger and chuckled lightly.

“I forgot such identification exists,” He said, “You have good eyes to make it out from there,” He added.

You hummed in agreement. You were in perfect condition, had to be for the work. Perfect condition except for the concussion and various bruises on your body.

“Well now you know my name, can I enquire as to yours? I doubt that everyone calls you Researcher 42,” Ezra read your name from the ID card beforehand. Leant against the shelves next to him, he looked down at you.

“Some do,” You said plainly.

“That ‘some’ includes me, does it,” He raised an eyebrow, not expecting you to become so cold.

“Seems like it,”

“42 seems a little impersonal considering I just saved your life,”

“I’m meant to stay separated from my subjects. Anonymity helps with objectivity,” You explained. That wasn’t entirely true. You had always made friends with at least one person in every planet or city you researched. It was how you got the inside scoop, the local knowledge that made your articles so popular. Guide Guidance said that researchers stay anonymous for objectivity, but your popularity said otherwise. You just didn’t want to get any closer to Ezra, even just a quick glance at his record told you that he was not someone you wanted to be friends with.

As he had already shown you, he was a thief. He had been convicted of fraud, arson and two counts of murder. No wonder he was here. Most of the places in Nothing were hot beds for criminals like him. Nowhere in Everywhere would hire him, you expected that he had been hired by a contractor to come here and work for his freedom. There wasn’t much freedom stuck on the green though.

“Whether you give me your name or not, you’ve not got much choice in staying separated. A helpless thing like you will need protection here,”

“And you’ll offer that for free, will you?” You asked sarcastically, immediately knowing he would want something from you in return. You were already indebted to him for saving your life.

“There are a few things I desire,” He looked over your body, smirk twitching on his lips. You curled your lip and moved away from him.

“If you’re going to rape me, I’d rather try my luck out there by myself,”

“Oh no! No, little mouse I would never. I have done some felonious acts but I am not a savage!” He exclaimed quickly covering for himself. You regarded him sceptically. He had supposedly killed two people; he’d already crossed a line most people would not. You didn’t believe he wouldn’t step over that line too. “No, The Guide will want you back, I imagine anyone who returned you would be well rewarded,”

“Possibly,”

“Here’s my offer. I provide protection and shelter whilst you are here, and come that fateful day your deliverance arrives, you will negotiate considerable compensation for me,”

“What compensation would you want?”

“Enough money to live comfortably for the rest of my days free of obligation, a ship to get me off this rock and a clear record,”

“And if I say no?”

“Then you can see how well you fare in the forest alone. Food is pretty scarce this time of year and I wouldn’t put it past a few of them to push some more… basic human morals,” Ezra smirked as your eyes double in size. In all your travels you had never encountered cannibals, not human cannibals anyway.

“I- I can’t promise anything,” You stumbled over your worlds as you accepted faster than you should have. You didn’t know there was anyone other than Ezra on this planet, but you were not in the mood to find out.

“We will discuss details when the time comes,” He said. You nodded. “Now we have all that out the way,” He stood up from the floor, “I have to get to work,”

“What about me?”

“You aren’t coming with me,” He said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“But you just said-,” you started to protest until Ezra pulled a gun from seemingly nowhere, you immediately shut your mouth and flinched, “What is that?”

“Protection,” He held the gun out, waiting for you to take it.

“No, no, no! You said-“

“Until your people come to your aid, and give me my money, I’ve got to keep working. Any time wasted is money lost out here,” He explained impatiently. He stepped back closer to you and dropped the gun in your lap, “I assume you do know how to use that even if you don’t carry one yourself?”

You looked at the gun, assessing it properly. It wasn’t complicated, a barrel you assumed was already full of bullets and a trigger. Nothing you hadn’t seen before, apart from the electrical tape that was holding it together. With no more protest from you, Ezra assumed it was fine and stepped away, resuming his routine.

“I will be back at sundown. Help yourself to some food,” He told you.

“My food,” You corrected him.

“Remember who is dependent on who here, 42,” He said scornfully. With that he put his helmet back on to his head and left the tent leaving you all alone.

You waited a few moments to make sure he was gone before making your move. You couldn’t stay with a murderer. You were safer in your ship, wherever it was. You could make a distress call and be rescued. Ezra would never know.

You pushed the gun from your lap onto the floor and tried to stand up. Sat down you could feel how sore your limbs were, your back ached from just sitting up for a few minutes and you were pretty sure you could feel every bone in your feet. A light touch to the forehead told you there was a sizable egg growing on top.

Standing up the pain was worse. You immediately became dizzy, gripping onto the metal shelf quickly to stop yourself from falling. You cursed under your breath and took a deep breath. You could do it.

Or maybe you couldn’t.

You took one step towards the table of things Ezra kept, and fell back on your ass. You were lucky not to pull the shelves down with you as it rocked forward slightly. A few items fell off, narrowly missing you. You dodged the heavy items, cringing as the metal thumped to the ground.

Listening to your screaming body, you gave up. You shuffled back to your previously comfortable position against the wall of the tent and looked around you for something to keep yourself occupied.

There at your feet lay a small book. Ezra wasn’t lying when he said he wanted to meet an author, he apparently was a bibliophile. You picked the paper up, stretching to reach it over your bruised and aching legs. It was well worn, obviously water damaged as the pages curled and the image on the front as warped beyond recognition. The title: “Welcome to the Green”.

You were not going anywhere.

--

sooo what do you think? i had so much fun writing this fic, i hope you guys enjoyed it too. let me know if you want to be tagged in the next part :D

TAGGING usuals and interested people :): @hunters-heathen @peterssweetpea @beskarbabs @wille-zarr @fandom-blackhole @writeforfandoms @dindja @amneris21 @yespolkadotkitty

[hopelikethemoon]

The Itch (Ezra x Reader) || {Moonbeams}

Title: The Itch Rating: PG-13 Length: 4,700 Warnings: Pregnant!Reader, angst, unrequited love, unresolved sexual tension. Notes: :)  Part nineteen of the Moonbeams series.

Ezra slept for four hours after you got him back to the transport. It felt wrong not to curl up in bed with him, to hold him as the lunaxium worked through his system and eased his suffering. 

Instead you tried to catch a few hours of sleep, curled up on the uncomfortable sofa in the common area of the transport. You couldn’t even bring yourself to read through one of the books stacked around the ship — you couldn’t focus on anything that wasn’t this new reality. 

“I thought you’d be gone by now.” Ezra said with a slight edge to his voice as he flipped on the light in the room, stiffly standing in the threshold. 

You rubbed at your eyes as you lifted your head to look at him, “I don’t have anywhere to go.” 

Still he stared at you like a foreigner in your own home. You recognized the distrust in his gaze, the grit of his teeth as he set his gaze on you. 

“If you knew about the lunaxium, then you should know that you don’t belong here.” Ezra retorted, folding his arms across his chest. “The full moon is two days away.”

“I’m aware.” You said crisply, sitting up right and resting your hand against your stomach briefly. “But I don’t have anywhere to go.”

He narrowed his eyes, “You don’t have a transport?”

“No. It’s gone.” 

“Well, you can’t stay here.” He said with a shake of his head. “It isn’t safe for you in your… condition.” Ezra’s gaze flickered to your stomach, and it lingered there long enough to make your heart beat a little faster. 

“You really don’t remember me, do you?” You questioned, rising from the sofa and walking towards him. You stopped in front of him, watching as he flinched away from your touch. 

“I don’t.” Ezra admitted quietly. “But you are everywhere on this transport.” 

“Because I live here with you.” You told him, “We live between my transport and here.” You tried to reach out for him, resting your hand on his shoulder. “But something happened and now you’ve forgotten me.”

The distrust in his gaze didn’t falter. “How do I know you haven’t just been squatting in my transport? It’s not entirely secure.”

You exhaled slowly, “Does our bed smell like only I was sleeping in it?” 

Ezra’s lips twitched, “No.” 

“That’s what I thought.” You ran your hand down the length of his arm, curling your fingers around his hand. “I’m not afraid of the beast, Ezra. I can shelter in our — in your — quarters safely. We’ve done it before.”

Ezra rocked his jaw slowly as he held your gaze. “Why don’t I remember that?” 

“It’s complicated.” You bit down on your bottom lip as you hesitantly rubbed your thumb against the center of his palm, trying to convince him to believe you. 

He shook his hand out of your hold, brushing past you as he walked into the room further. “I don’t know what you think this is, but it isn’t it.” He told you and the honesty of those words felt like a knife through the chest. “I don’t know who you are. I don’t know why you are everywhere in this transport, but… I’m not looking for anything like this. Alright?” 

You tried not to let your expression reveal your true emotions. You fought back the rush of tears you felt welling up in your eyes. It was a rotten time to be pregnant and more emotional than you had ever been in your life. 

“Ezra—“

“No,” He held up a hand to stop you. “Look, the last thing I remember was leaving this ship with no intention of coming back to it. I don’t know how I ended up out there, I don’t know who you are.” 

“I know about that,” You told him, trying to keep your voice light. “The day we met, you found me in an animal trap, and you later told me you were thinking about ending things. Five years on this moon was all you could take, but things changed that night.”

“How am I supposed to believe that?” 

You wilted a little, “I don’t know.” 

Ezra’s eyes flickered to your stomach again, his brows furrowing briefly before he looked away. “How long has it been since we ‘met,’ then?”

“Almost a year ago.” Your voice wavered. “I started coming back every month to spend time with you and I was able to stay here during the full moon a few times…” You tried not to get your hope up. “We were making things work until… we made a bad deal.” 

“And I lost my memory of you?”

You nodded. 

“How much lunaxium did I snort?” Ezra said, mostly to himself as he unceremoniously turned to leave you standing in the middle of the room. 

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going to take a shower.” He told you over his shoulder, “I expect you gone when I get out.” 

“Ezra, I can’t just go somewhere else. The Guardians will kill me and our baby.” 

That stopped him dead in his tracks. “I have never once humored the idea of having children of my own.” He turned then. “I’ve always been careful.”

“So have I,” You retorted with matched annoyance. “But here we are.” You gestured to your stomach. “And I know the beast still knows. He might not remember, just like you don’t.. but he knows.” 

Ezra held your gaze, before it slowly lowered to your stomach. “It’s really mine?” 

You nodded slowly, “I know it’s hard to believe right now, but you were very excited about it.” 

He swallowed thickly, “But the curse…”

“I know,” You touched your stomach. “There’s every possibility that our baby will be just like you, but that doesn’t change anything.” 

“But I don’t remember.” Ezra looked away then, folding his arms across his chest. “I look at you and I feel like I should know you, but it’s just grasping for something in the dark. There’s nothing there.” 

“We can make new memories,” You bargained, with him and yourself. “I’m not giving up on us just because you can’t remember me. We can start over.” 

“I don’t know.” He admitted to you, genuine sorrow in his eyes. “It sounds like whatever we had was just prolonging an inevitable tragedy. This curse… I don’t know how much longer I can hold it off. In the woods — I’ve never felt like that before. That pain ravaged through me and… it’s why I wanted to put an end to all of this. I can’t become like them.” Ezra admitted, his own voice wavering with emotion. “I may not know what we had, but I know myself well enough to know I wouldn’t want to put you through this.”

“Please don’t do this,” You reached for him and he let you curl your fingers around his hand. “I know how hard it is for you, but I’m not going to abandon you when things get difficult. You moved past this.” 

He gave your hand a brief squeeze, “You mentioned last night that you had friends coming. They can take you to safety?”

“Ezra.” 

This was a waking nightmare and the reality of it hadn’t even sunk in yet. Ezra was gone and in his stead was a stranger who looked like him. 

“I’m sorry I don’t remember.” 

You couldn’t fight the tears. You bubbled over, your chest seizing up as you sobbed, full body and ugly. You shook as you broke down, the the hurt you’d been trying to hold back crashing down on you heavily. 

Despite not knowing you, he still wrapped his arms around you and held you against his chest. He was warm — real. Real despite not being him. Warm despite the chilly way he spoke to you. 

“I loved you,” You choked out. “I really loved you.” 

“I’m so sorry,” He murmured, kissing the top of your head like it was muscle memory. 

“Please don’t give up.” You sniffed loudly, tears and snot darkening the fabric of his shirt. “Please. There has to be some way… don’t just give up.”

“I’m tired,” He told you, stroking your back in an unfamiliar fashion. “The headaches are blinding, my bones ache to the core, everything burns like it’s on fire… That’s no life.” 

“But you chose to make it one, Ezra.” You told him, your voice cracking. “That was you. Whether you remember it or not.” 

You hadn’t realized how much pain he had been in. He never let it show. 

“Maybe I did,” He looked at you, brows furrowed. “But I don’t know what led me to that realization. I just know what I know now.” 

You took his hand and lifted to your lips, kissing the center of his palm. “This living hand, now warm and capable; of earnest grasping, would, if it were cold. And in the icy silence of the tomb, so haunt thy days and chill thy dreaming nights. That thou would wish thine own heart dry of blood. So in my veins red life might stream again, and thou be conscience-calm’d–see here it is.  I hold it towards you.” 

Ezra exhaled shakily, “Keats.” 

“One of your favorites.” You reminded him as he traced his thumb over the curve of your upper lip. “You always had me read Keats to you. Nightingale, melancholy, bright star.” 

“I wish I remembered.” 

“You might still.” 

“Or you might torture yourself with the past,” He cautioned you. “Is that what you want? To replace old memories with lackluster attempts to rekindle something in me that still burns within you?” 

“Yes.” There was no hesitation. 

“Alright.” He sighed. “But I did warn you.” 

“You’re right,” You told him lightly, trying to convince yourself that things would be okay. “You do need the ‘fresher. You smell like sweat.” 

He huffed a little, “I smell like dirt, sweat, and bed that distinctly smelt like you.” 

“I never once heard you complain about it.” You retorted with a slight taunt to your words.

“I wasn’t complaining now either.” He pulled his hand from your grasp. “You can stay.”

“Thank you.” 

“Are you the reason I have cheese?” Ezra questioned with a mouthful of said cheese as he walked into his quarters, where you had made yourself comfortable on the bed. 

“I try to bring you treats every time I come back from the Block.” You told him, sitting the book you were reading aside. “We’ve also made a few upgrades to the transport… namely a comlink between our vessels.”

“Really?” He bummed thoughtfully as he moved to perch on the bed beside you. “Then we need to get you back to the Block. I’m almost out of cheese.”

You rolled your eyes, “You sure you don’t remember?”

Ezra shook his head, “The shower didn’t make me remember.”

“Damn.” You snapped your fingers, watching him as he scooted back on the bed and leaned back against the cool durasteel. “How do you feel?”

“I took a hit and that helped.” He tilted his face towards you. “Headache’s less.”

“Good.” You smiled a little. 

You should’ve realized he had used lunaxium. He’s more pliable under the influence and right now he seems light — like the man you love. He’s even got that crooked grin as he rakes his fingers through his hair.

“When did we start this?” He questioned.

“We were both lonely and we slept together on the sofa in my transport. It just kind of happened.”

Ezra sank back against the wall beside you, breaking the piece of cheese in half and passing it to you. 

“Thanks.” 

He offered you a brief smile, “You’re welcome.” Ezra popped his piece into his mouth, chewing it slowly. “So you and I were together for almost a year?”

You nodded. 

“How was it? How did we work?”

“Well,” You readjusted against the wall, resting your hand on your stomach. “I was very insistent about coming back for you. I don’t think you believed me at first.”

“I can see that.”

“And then, I don’t know… We just fell into this pattern of existence. I would come and stay for three weeks, I’d go back to the Block for a week and find you cheese, books, those honeysticks.”

Ezra smiled then, “Honeysticks?”

“Your favorite.” Your heart hurt when you looked at him. That smile was too familiar, yet foreign. “We made it work. But then the Guardians tried to make me forget you — they killed me.”

“They killed you?”

“Yeah,” You sighed. “It’s been a complicated few months. My stim stopped working and that’s how this happened,” You gestured to your stomach. “You were hesitant at first. But so was I.” 

“How far along are you?”

“A little ways into my second trimester,” You watched him as he stared at your stomach. “I think the beast was more excited than either of us.”

“I can see that,” Ezra pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek. “I’m sorry I don’t remember.”

“Don’t be.” You reached for his hand, curling your fingers around his. He let you, slotting his fingers in between yours. “I didn’t know how much pain you were in. You never told me.”

“That sounds like me.” He chuckled quietly, shaking his head. “I probably didn’t want to burden you with it.” 

“That does sound like you.” You leaned towards him, resting your cheek against the curve of his shoulder. “I don’t expect you to fall in love with me again, Ezra. I’m not trying to force this on you.” 

“I know.” He exhaled as he leaned his head to rest against the top of yours. He rubbed his thumb over the back of yours. “If it’s any consolation, you feel like a muscle memory to me. This, right now, feels familiar on a physical level.”

“That's reassuring, I guess.” You pulled back just enough to look at him, “We did this a lot. Sometimes you’d just watch me scroll through the net on my datapad… or you’d read to me.” 

“It’s strange to think that I haven’t been without touch. That my body has memories that I don’t have.” Ezra’s voice wavered. “Just your hand in mine feels like more than I have known in five years.” 

His eyes flickered to your lips and you ducked your head, looking away then. As much as you wanted to rekindle a forgotten spark, you knew enough about him now to know it didn’t mean anything. 

“Sorry,” Ezra offered, squeezing your hand gently. “I didn’t mean to make you… uncomfortable?”

“It’s fine.” You told him lightly. “I would just like to take things slower than we did originally.” 

He nodded, “I can respect that.” 

You took his hand and lifted it to your lips to kiss each knuckle. “It hurts to look at your eyes and see how… it’s different.” You only hoped you were right about the beast. 

Ezra dragged his teeth over his bottom lip as he nodded slowly, “I get it. I’m sorry it has to be this way.” 

“It’s really not your fault.” You muttered, releasing your hold on his hand and picking at a piece of lint on your leg. Sure, Ezra had agreed to these terms — but you had caused him to break the deal. “I have a request for you.”

“Another?” He teased lightly. “What is it?”

“My friends will likely be here a few days after the full moon.” You explained to him, “I need you to pretend like you remember.”

His brows rose upwards, “Why?”

“Because Shiva will see this as an opportunity to convince me to leave. For good.” You looked at him then. “You don’t really know them that well to begin with. It shouldn’t be that hard.” 

“Alright.” Ezra shrugged. “Just tell me what I need to know.”

“I will.” You leaned into his side again, resting your cheek on his shoulder as he slipped his arm around your waist. It felt so familiar and yet… it wasn’t. 

Ezra sealed himself off in the common area when the time came from his transformation. Despite how insistent you were that you trusted the beast — he wasn’t as confident. He didn’t know you and your hope wasn’t enough to convince him that the beast would know you. 

You waited in his quarters, listening to the pained sounds from down the corridor as his body broke apart and reformed as the beast.

He had instructed you to stay in the room, but you weren’t very good at obeying him. 

When the vessel grew quiet, save for the sound of your pulse pounding in your ears, you pressed the keypad and opened the durasteel door that stood between you and the beast. 

“Ezra?” You called out cautiously, lingering in the threshold as you peered down the corridor. You heard the metal flooring groan beneath the weight of the beast. “Ezra?” You repeated, staying rooted in one spot as you listened to the lumbering movements of the beast. 

There was a brief second of panic that lanced through you as the beast rounded the bend in the corridor. A moment that told you to hit the keypad and shut the door closed. But you stayed there, eyes wide and foolishly hopeful. 

The beast growled softly, crouching down to a less terrifying height as he moved towards you. He seemed just as cautious as you were, his eyes warily sweeping over you. 

“Hey there,” You held out your hand to him as he approached you. “Do you remember me?” 

At first, you weren’t certain. He sniffed at your hand curiously, breath hot against your palm, before he nuzzled at it. 

“Oh, thank the stars.” You breathed out, moving towards the beast and throwing your arms around him. You pressed your cheek against the soft fur of his chest, melting into him as he hesitantly wrapped an arm around you, his massive hand resting against the small of your back. 

“I thought I lost you too.” Your voice wavered as you pressed a kiss to the side of the beast’s head. He turned and licked at your face in response, before nuzzling his nose against the crook of your neck. 

“I know.” You said as you combed your fingers through his fur. “We’ve been dealt a rotten hand, but… I’m going to find a way to fix this.” 

The beast pulled back and crouched down, rubbing the broad width of his forehead against your stomach. 

“We’re both alright.” You assured the beast, stroking the back of his neck as he stayed there. “A little stressed, but alright.”

The beast huffed quietly, lifting his head to look at you. His eyes were exactly what you had been longing to see. Those dark brown eyes looked back at you with such reverence and adoration. You were no stranger to the beast.  

“I wish I had known, Ezra.” You said as you cupped both sides of his head. “You never told me how much pain you were in… I feel selfish now…” 

He lowered his head again, nudging at your chest as a low growl rumbled up the back of his throat. He carefully dragged one of his hands down your side, curling his fingers around your hip. 

The beast nuzzled at the crook of your neck once more, his tongue flicking out to taste your skin there. You closed your eyes, leaning into his touch as his warm breath danced over the column of your throat. 

You sank your fingers into his soft fur, relishing this brief brush of intimacy. A part of you told you that this was wrong — but an equally loud part told you to hold onto what you still had with both hands. 

“Ezra,” You whispered, dislodging yourself from the beast’s grasp. He cocked his head to the side, a knowing look glinting in his eyes. He knew you better than you knew yourself. 

It was tempting — really tempting. But you had a feeling you would wake up in the morning feeling guilty, given the fact that the human part of him didn’t know you. 

“As much as I want to,” You started, stroking your fingers through the hair at his jaw. “I think we shouldn’t.” 

The beast snorted, leaning forward against to nudge at your chest. 

“How do you feel about sleeping through the full moon?” You questioned, kissing the top of his head. 

Another rumbling sound escaped him, a quiet bark following as he sank back and sat in front of you. He cocked his head to the side, eyeing you curiously. 

“Just give me a second.” You told him, before stepping back into his quarters. You pulled the mattress off the bed, situating it in the middle of the floor with the pillows and blankets. 

The beast couldn’t exactly fit on the bed with you, though he’d certainly tried in the past. He poked his head into the room, taking a short step in as he watched you fluff the blankets out. 

“I know it’s not much,” You started as you looked towards him. “But I really hate sleeping alone. It’s not the same, and…” You used the back of your hand to wipe away a stray tear. “I miss you. I miss this.” 

Ezra moved towards you, keeping himself low as he crouched in front of you. The beast studied you quietly, before reaching out to touch your cheek. The pads of his fingers were rough, but it still satisfied the need you felt. 

“Can you behave if I take my clothes off?” 

He snorted, blowing hot air right into your face as he made a sound that almost sounded like laughing. 

“I figured you had some manners,” You retorted as you peeled off your shirt and tossed it aside. You wrestled your pants off, kicking them out of your way before sliding under the covers. 

You held them up, waiting for the beast to maneuver himself partially under the covers beside you. He was too massive for them, but it got him closer to you. 

And there was something nice about feeling his warm furry body pressed against yours. You let him envelop you, his arm curled possessively around your waist. 

“I’m sorry you’re trapped inside of a body that doesn’t remember,” You whispered as you scratched at a spot behind his ear. “It kills me to look into your eyes and see nothing.”

The beast licked at your face, causing you to laugh softly. “You should get some rest too,” You told him as you turned to try to fit yourself into the bend of his body. He spread his hand out over your stomach, his sharp claws gently resting against your skin.

His hot breath danced over your shoulder and you tried to ignore the way it warmed you through. There were a lot of things you tried to ignore. Like the fact that Ezra didn’t know who you were. That you may never hear him call you moonbeam again. That he wouldn’t fall in love with you.

Even if he didn’t… you couldn’t leave the beast behind. The beast knew you. The beast loved you. 

You combed your fingers through the hair that covered the back of his arm. “Hey Ezra?”

The beast nudged at your shoulder.

“I love you.”

He barked quietly, licking at the crook of your neck. It was his only way to tell you the same.  

Ezra’s fingers splayed out over your stomach, gently drawing circles over your skin unconsciously. The patterns were unfamiliar, but the weight of his touch felt right. You were finally starting to “pop” too. Your stomach was rounding to prove that a little life was growing within you.

You groaned quietly as you heard the engine kick on to feed power to the support programs on the transport — the quickest way to know the time.

It was morning and there was a very naked man pressed against your very naked body. A fact which wouldn’t be a problem if he remembered you. 

You stirred, readjusting the pillow beneath your head. What were you supposed to say in this position? Sorry we’re naked? 

“I dreamed of you,” Ezra told you, his voice rough from sleep. “You let me into your transport and I felt this pure joy over you.”

Your heart ached. “Your memories aren’t gone, they’re just hard to reach.”

“Maybe.” He rested his forehead against your shoulder. “Last night, did we?”

“You’d be dead,” You laughed before answering him. “No. I thought about it, but it didn’t feel right.”

“So it wasn’t just me? It really was the beast too?”

You nodded your head slowly. “The beast… it’s primal. It’s this understanding that works because that part of you can’t speak to me. Not conventionally, at least.”

“And that’s why we are both naked?”

“Don’t knock sleeping next to a full grown beast until you try it.” You remarked, turning a little to grin at him. 

He mirrored your expression, a grin spreading over his lips as he met your gaze. “I’ll have to remember that.” He drawled out, running his fingers over your stomach again. “Did you sleep well?”

“I did.” You lifted your hand to gingerly cup his cheek. “How are you feeling?” 

Ezra shrugged, “I feel like I slept.” He leaned into your touch, his eyes falling closed. “I did sleep. I can’t think of a single time I slept during the full moon.”

You laughed softly, “I guess all you needed was to just lay down and relax with me.” You kept the covers pulled up around your chest as you rolled onto your back. “I want to make it clear to you that I understand that you don’t feel the same way I do. I don’t expect you to. I avoided being… intimate with the beast because it didn’t feel right because of this.”

“I appreciate that,” Ezra told you with a warm smile. “I can’t deny that I feel something, but it’s like a phantom feeling.” He explained to you. “Like you’re the limb I’ve lost, but it still itches.”

You pursed your lips together and looked away from his eyes. “I’ll try not to itch too much.” 

“I really don’t mind.” He told you without hesitation. “I’m sorry about before.” Ezra whispered, shifting so he could rest his chin on your shoulder. “You may have spent a year in my company, but I still feel the loneliness of five years with nothing but books to keep me company. My niceties are lacking.”

“You were kind of an ass.” You admitted with a laugh. 

“Alright, alright.” Ezra snorted. “I get it.” 

“Oh, do you?” You shot back with a smirk. “Just making sure you didn’t forget.” 

His hand slid from your stomach, giving your hip a playful squeeze. “Gallows humor?” His lips twisted with amusement. 

“I’m either going to laugh or cry.” You retorted, reaching beneath the covers to curl your hand around his a your hip. “And I’ve already cried more than I care to admit.” 

Ezra’s gaze shifted to your lips, “Slow, right?” 

“Unfortunately,” You bit down on your bottom lip with an apologetic look. 

“Then I’m going to go jump in the ‘fresher.” He leaned towards you and pressed a kiss to the center of your forehead, letting his lips linger there. “I’ll put the mattress back on the bed. I don’t want you doing heavy lifting.” 

“What do you want me to do?” You questioned, running your hand up the back of his arm. 

“Were you this much of a menace before?” He questioned, exhaling shakily. 

“Oh yeah,” You let out a breathy laugh. “I’ll pull something together for us to eat.” 

“I can think of something I want to eat right now.” He drawled out, keeping one hand planted by your shoulder as he looked down at you. 

You felt heat rise in your cheeks, “Sorry.” 

Ezra ran his nose down the length of yours,  lingering there as your breath mingled with his. “Slow.” He breathed out, before he abandoned you entirely and moved out from beneath the covers. “I need a shower.” 

You watched him as he walked out of his quarters, unabashedly staring at his ass as he went. It was a good ass. 

A heady combination of shame and regret flooded your system — you should’ve let him kiss you, should’ve taken advantage of what he was offering. But you knew better. It would only hurt you in the end because he didn’t feel the way you felt. It was just scratching an itch for him. 

[julemmaes]

Can you write more of the Nessian modern au where they have 5 kids plz?

Prompt ideas:

They go camping

Ezra goes on his first date

One of the kids (probably like Cal or Celia) feels like their parents done love them as much as they love the others / that they don’t get as much attention as they others

Obv u don’t need to use any of these prompts if u don’t want to, these are just some ideas

I loved your fic !!!

I Love You

Set in this universe, Nessian fourth child feels like she’s isn’t given the same amount of love her parents are showing her siblings and after a particularly bad day goes by, she bursts.

A/N: The ages: Ezra (23), Cal (19), Nora (14), Celia (12) and Andra (10). Nate is (18) and Iria (Emerie and Azriel’s firstborn) is (13).

It was hard to write this one, cause if one of my children came to me like this, telling me what Celia is going to say, I would probably kill myself you know. Hate these situations:(

Also, I’m definitely gonna write the other two too, cause they’re interesting and I think you all want to read about Ezra’s first date. So don’t worry, we’ll see them camping and struggling with love some more!

Enjoy!

Word count: 4,370

"Cal, can you help me with my homework?" asked Celia as she entered the boys room.

Her brother didn't even spare her a glance, waving a hand in mid-air, "I can't right now Cece, I'm playing with Nate and I can't pause, sorry." then burst out laughing at something his cousin had said to him through his earbuds. He cast her a quick glance over his shoulder, "Maybe when I finish."

The girl huffed, muttering a don't worry and closed the door behind her. She walked down the hallway, towards her room and Nora's. She didn't bother knocking, but froze in the doorway, staring at her sister with hopeful eyes. She knew she wouldn't find help there either when she heard her say Iria's name into the phone's microphone.

She could feel that she might be about to let out a scream of frustration.

She was about to leave the room when Nora noticed her, "Iria wait a second," she put a hand on the phone, smiling at Celia, "Do you want anything? I can leave the room if you need to study in silence," she offered her.

Celia shook her head, "I can't do this geometry problem." she said furrowing her brow as she looked at the strange figure on the sheet her math teacher had assigned her. She looked up at Nora and she had a bored look on her face. Celia had confirmation of what she had thought as soon as she walked in. Before her sister could find an excuse to escape that task, she smiled and said, "Don't worry, I'll do it myself."

Nora didn't even try to retort and resumed talking to her cousin, yelling at Celia to close the door when she left.

"Yeah, I'll close the door for you," she muttered to herself.

She didn't want to go to her mom and ask for help with her homework because she knew it would end with one of them yelling, but she had no other choice. Huffing for the millionth time, she headed downstairs, mentally ready to face an intense math session with her mom.

When she entered the kitchen, Nesta was leaning on her chair with her knees and half lying on the table, holding a yellow pencil and coloring one of the suns on Andra's exercise book.

Her sister was the first to see her, "Hi." she said in a flat tone.

Celia snickered, thinking "we're in the same boat sis". Doing homework with mom had always been tiring, whether it was math to solve or simple drawings to color, Nesta had the ability to squeeze their little brains to their last nerve.

Cassian had always told them that one day they would thank her, but Celia hadn't reached that moment yet. She was sure Ezra, who was finishing college, hadn't thanked her yet either for making him maintain that level of consistency in his studies.

"Mom," she called hesitantly, "could you help me with this problem?"

Andra glared at her, frowning, "She's helping me."

Celia knew she didn't mean it in a bad way, she knew she was probably just as tired as she was at that moment. After all, it was seven o'clock on a Sunday night for everyone, and if Andra had found herself finishing studying so late too, it was because she too had been given too much homework. She ignored her, waiting for Nesta to speak.

When he didn't answer her, Celia pushed with more annoyance in her voice, "Mom."

Nesta's head snapped toward her, and even this time, Celia knew the answer would be no. The weariness clear in her features. Nesta closed her eyes, scratching a temple with the tip of her pencil, "Can't you ask one of your siblings?"

"Nora and Cal are busy," she let her know, "I don't know where Ezra is."

Andra pointed her to the back door, "He's out with Dad, they're working in the gazebo."

Celia nodded, "Thank you." Nesta gave her a tired smile and then went back to coloring in the sun.

She clutched the book and notebook to her chest as she pushed the door open and the cold outside made her shiver. She could hear the hoarse laughter and low voices of her dad and brother, but she couldn't see them anywhere.

She stepped barefoot into the grass and wiggled her fingers through the blades of grass and then there was silence and Celia was suddenly afraid. If she turned around she could see Nesta and Andra at the table, but in front of her there was only darkness and silence, until a loud bang came from the gazebo and then she heard Cassian cursing, before Ezra burst out laughing.

She grinned, tiptoeing towards the two men.

As soon as she moved the curtain that was the door to the gazebo, a dart flew past her head and she jumped back, eyes wide. She felt her heart in her throat.

"Celia!" had shouted Ezra, sprinting toward her. His eyes, too, were full of fear and he had grabbed her by the arms. Cassian immediately behind him stroked her hair, checking to make sure he hadn't poked her in the face. They both let go a breath of relief when they saw that she was okay.

"Cutie you have to be careful when you come in here, you know that," her dad told her with a carefree smile on his face, "If I caught you, mommy would skin me alive."

All three cackled, Ezra pulling himself up and removing the darts from the board.

"Did you need anything?" asked Cassian.

Celia nodded, remembering the real reason she had gone there, "I can't do this problem-" she started to open the notebook, but Ezra interrupted her.

"Dad and I are just finishing up fixing this actually," he told her with a apologetic grimace, "Could you wait a half hour?"

Celia looked at Cassian hopefully, but her dad was already back handling tools and nails.

She turned to her brother, "But you were playing darts." she said impassively.

Ezra shrugged, "We were just taking a few minutes off, we've been working for hours." then turned to Dad, "Where's the wire?"

Cassian pointed to a spot on the other side of the gazebo and Celia took that gesture as her cue to leave them alone again.

"Nevermind." she whispered, closing the notebook and leaving the gazebo.

She eyed the table at which they ate breakfast every summer morning, thinking that if she started studying there maybe she would die of hypothermia and finally someone would deign to help her. Laughing at how extra she could be at times, she walked back into the house, passing her mom and Andra in silence and heading back to Cal's room. She was going to wait for him to finish the game and then force him to solve the problem for her.

She threw open the door and Cal let out a shriek, startling her.

"God, Cece you scared the shit out of me." he breathed, bringing a hand to his chest, finishing pulling on his pants.

Celia furrowed her brow, "Weren't you playing with Nate?"

Cal nodded absentmindedly, looking around, "See my wallet?"

She pointed it out to him. "Where are you going? You said you'd help me," she said in a whiny tone.

"I said maybe," he smiled slyly at her, "and Raina called me and I'm spending the night at her place." with that he turned and opened the drawer, pulling out two aluminum foil envelopes. As soon as Celia realized what they were, she brought her hands to her eyes.

"Gee," she sighed, then turned around shaking her head, "I didn't need to see that."

Without looking at him, she raised a hand, smiling tightly at the empty space in front of her, "See you tomorrow, have fun."

Cal chuckled as he walked past her and darted down the stairs, "Sure will. See you tomorrow."

Celia shook her head again and then again, trying to erase the image of- she walked back down the hall, opening up the door to her room.

Nora in a completely different position was still talking on the phone and when she saw her she rolled her eyes, telling Iria to wait yet again. She turned on her stomach, raising an eyebrow, "What is it?"

Why is everyone so grumpy today?

Celia was fed up with that attitude and raised her arms to the sky, "Nothing, whatever."

Then they stared at each other for a few seconds and Nora nodded her chin, "Could you please go out? I'm talking to Iria on the phone and-"

"This is my room, too," Celia retorted, pointing out the obvious.

Nora huffed, leaning her head back, "Yes and I'm asking if I can please talk to our cousin in private."

Celia was getting even more nervous. "If you would help me with this problem I could go mind my own business in the living room and I wouldn't have to bother you every five minutes anymore."

Nora stood up, grabbing her by the arm and pushing her out of the room, "I'll help you when I'm done talking on the phone."

Celia didn't even have time to realize that her sister had literally just thrown her out of the room that the door behind her had already been closed. She wanted to go back in and throw herself at Nora and work it out the way they used to work it out when they were kids, when they could still hit each other if they fought - not that their parents ever let them go beyond the first slap or hair pull.  

She walked into the bathroom in the middle of their rooms to see where Cassian and Ezra stood, but from the second floor it was impossible to see inside the gazebo.

She went to Andra's room so she wouldn't risk running into condom wrappers and having to breathe the testosterone-smelling air of her brothers' room and sat down on the bed. She opened the notebook on her lap, rereading the problem statement aloud.

"A rectangular parallelepiped has basic dimensions that measure-" then she stopped.

It was pointless. She couldn't figure out what formulas to apply to calculate what was asked of her in the fourth question. Rereading the text wasn't going to help.

She brought her hands to her hair.

Why is this so hard?

She heard Nora laughing down the hall and felt anger sizzle under her skin.

Ever since she'd gotten the phone for her fourteenth birthday, there hadn't been a night that was one in which she hadn't called Iria. And it had only been a few months since she'd started high school, but Celia didn't understand how those two things had managed to change her sister like that.

She knew Nora still cared about her, but it was getting harder and harder to spend time with her, and Cal was always out with Raina and the twins and it was possible that she didn't see him for days at a time. Although that last part had become an occurrence in recent years.

Nesta had explained to her that it was normal, that they were just growing up and there was nothing to worry about, that they'd get closer once she got older too, but it had hurt Celia to lose Cal in many ways and now she was just scared that the same thing would happen with Nora.

She had nothing against spending her free time with Andra, but she was still little and still liked to play with dolls and Celia would rather hang herself than pretend to be a Doctor Peluche one more time.

She chuckled again this time, imagining herself announcing her death to her parents after her little sister asked her to play.

Then she heard Andra scream with happiness and run up the stairs. She was just in time to get out of the bed and out of the room that her sister was at the top of the stairs.

"I finished my homework!" she yelled, balling up her fists in the air.

Celia smiled at her, "Great."

Then Andra sagged, "Now I'm going to go take a victory nap."

"You've earned it." she walked past her as she yawned and headed down the stairs two steps at a time.

"Mom!" she called skipping the last three, "Can you help me now?"

Nesta made a frustrated sound, turning to her with a bag of frozen green beans in her hand.

"I just finished with Andra, is there any way we could think about this after dinner?"

Celia was about to start crying, but nodded anyway. She went into the living room when her mom resumed cooking, turning on the TV and putting on a channel where they showed how food is made.

When her dad and Ezra came back into the house they were so dirty that Nesta sent them straight to get washed up with the threat of not letting them sit down if they didn't smell flowery and clean.

Celia would have gone along with her mom, adding a sassy retort to make it even more dramatic, but at that moment she couldn't speak.

Cassian had passed behind the couch to go to the bathroom and shower, ruffling her hair and leaving a kiss on her head.

Even there, Celia didn't respond or say any "I love you too" back.

She didn't realize until a few minutes later that she wasn't really watching the show, and when she felt she was about to start crying - from too much accumulated stress and frustration throughout the day - she decided she needed to find a place where she could blow off steam.

Her room was apparently off-limits, Andra's was occupied and she couldn't hide in either her parents' or her brothers' room because both Ezra and her dad would go there to get dressed after their showers.

This only added to all the bad things of the day and on top of all the crap, she knew her mom was going to go to sleep right after dinner. When Nesta was this tired there was no way she was going to be able to stay up a minute longer and even if she could convince her it would just be hell.

Doing math with a calm and rested Nesta was already a nightmare on its own, she didn't want to think about what it would be like to do it with a cranky and tired Nesta.

She silently opened the door that led into the tavern, where the brothers normally spent their Saturday nights with their cousins and friends. The girls still weren't allowed to go down there when everyone was there, and Celia was looking forward to high school so she would get a free pass to attend their nights.

That is, if they would accept her.

She closed the door carefully behind her and ran down the stairs, turning on the light first.

She threw herself on the couch and then hugged her legs, sobbing once. And then again and again until a liberating cry was wracking her body.

She didn't know if it was just the math assignment she couldn't do or if it bothered her to see how much everyone didn't need her at that moment. Andra had mom and Ezra had dad and Nora and Cal had their respective friends and Celia… she felt so lonely right then.

She sobbed particularly loudly and clamped her mouth shut with her hand when she heard her father's footsteps pass by the tavern door. She didn't want him to hear her, it would worry him for nothing.

Yes, it was just because she couldn't get a stupid math problem right. She was overreacting.

She didn't need her parents. Or her brothers.

Or her sister for that matter.

She was sure all of her classmates were getting the exercise done.

She loosened her arms from around her legs and lay down on the couch, closing her eyes and clutching one of the pillows to her chest. It had a vague earthy smell to it, but it smelled like Cal too, and it angered the girl even more as she grabbed a corner of the pillow and threw it across the room, yelling not too loudly.

She didn't know how long she'd been down there, but when Nesta called the family to let them know dinner was ready, Celia sprang to her feet. She pulled the sleeves of her shirt over her hands and ran them over her face to remove the residue of the crying in frantic movements.

She took three deep breaths and then walked slowly up the stair

s. She opened the door just as Ezra walked into the living room and their eyes met.

She immediately lowered her head, so he wouldn't see her face, but her brother put a hand on her shoulder, "Lia..." the silent request to look at him clear as day.

"What?" she replied too surly. She cursed in her head when she noticed her brother stiffen. It was as if she could see his surprised expression.

So much for playing dumb.

"Are you okay?" he asked, then squeezed her shoulder, "Why were you downstairs?"

She moved to escape his grasp, then ran a hand over her face, huffing, "I was looking for something." she replied evasively, trying to make her way to the kitchen. Ezra grabbed her wrist, spinning her around, at which point Celia was forced to look at him.

Ezra had a conflicted expression, somewhere between angry and worried, "What happened? Why are you crying?" he asked, in a tone that didn't allow for a non-answer.

Celia remained silent, her brows knitted in a frown as she tried to swallow the knot that was forming in her throat.

Perhaps he had spoken too loudly, because Cassian's figure appeared in the kitchen doorway, "Who's crying?"

Celia looked towards her dad and it only took a second of seeing him for the crying to return, only harder.

Cassian's face turned completely as he moved Ezra from in front of his daughter and hugged her, lifting her off the ground. Celia wrapped her arms around her father's neck, hiding her face between the crook of his neck and his shoulder, and only sobbed louder as Cassian's hand began massaging her back in circular motions.

She didn't care if she would be thirteen in a few weeks. She didn't care that her father was rocking her like he used to when she was little, she just wanted him to hold her close.

She wrapped her legs around her dad's waist and heard Cassian take a shaky breath, "Ezra why don't you go ahead? We'll be right there."

Celia didn't see or hear her brother's response, but she was grateful to her dad when he moved to the couch, settling down and bringing her to him. She pressed herself tighter against him.

"Lia, what happened?" he whispered in her ear. This only made her sob more loudly, "Ssh, cutie," he murmured as the little girl's breathing became more erratic, "It's okay."

"Celia." her mom's voice made her sit up and Nesta was there, who with only a few steps was behind the couch. She'd seen Andra and Nora's heads pop up from the kitchen as well, but Ezra had called them back and they were gone immediately.

Nesta took a seat next to Cassian, her arms outstretched toward her daughter, but her gaze fixed on her husband's. Celia launched herself at her mother, but kept an arm around her father's neck and Cassian took her hand, squeezing it in his.

The child's tears had soaked his pajama shirt and Nesta's chest tightened. She brushed Celia's hair until she had a clear view of her daughter's face, "What's wrong?"

"I have-" she sobbed, "I had to solve a problem and I couldn't and no one-" every breath she tried to take was broken by a sob. She sniffled, "And then Nora kicked me out of the room and Cal- Cal didn't want to help me and he left and you were-" she ran the hand that wasn't clasped in Cassian's over her face, "You were helping Andra." then she turned to her dad and started crying again, "And then you and Ezra sent me away."

Nesta felt tremendous guilt and was about to apologize to her, for ignoring her, but then Celia said something that completely broke her heart.

"You don't love me like you do the others," she sobbed into her mom's chest.

"Oh, Lia." murmured Cassian, in a hurt tone. He slipped a hand between Nesta and his daughter's stomach and pulled her away from her mother, forcing the woman's arms off Celia.

Cassian sat her back down on his lap and looked into her eyes, leaning down just enough to be at the same height as her. His brow was furrowed and she could see how upset those few words had made him.

"That's absolutely not true." he whispered in a firm tone, watching the redness of his little girl's face, the tears that continued to fall undisturbed.

Nesta stroked her hair, "Your father is right." she added.

"You are all on exactly the same level. There's no such thing as loving one child more than the other," he repeated, "It's not possible."

Celia took more shaky breaths, struggling to speak, "Cal and Nora hate me now."

Nesta felt bad for her little girl. She didn't dare imagine how long she had kept those doubts to herself, couldn't imagine how she could think those things. How she had let one of her children feel that way without even noticing.

"Cal could never hate you and you know it. He loves you too much. Exactly like me and Mom and Nora too, even though it might not seem like it." said Cassian. Then he ran a thumb under her eyes, wiping her cheeks. "I'm sorry if we made you feel left out today, that wasn't our intention, okay?"

Celia nodded, but resumed crying.

"We're a family, we all love each other so much, but we're also numerous," Nesta tried to explain, "It may happen sometimes that no one is available to help you at that moment, but that doesn't mean they don't love you or care about you less than the day before."

Cassian squeezed her hips, "Why didn't you tell us this before?" he asked her, later clarifying, "That you were feeling this way."

Celia shrugged, resting her hands on her daddy's chest, just as she did when she was little.

"I don't want it to get to a point where you can't hold back anymore and you have to hide to cry, okay?" said Cassian to her. Nesta looked at him and saw that his eyes were glazed over. She placed a hand on his leg, but the man's attention didn't shift from his daughter's face. "If you feel that Mama and I and anyone in this house are misbehaving with you, you come tell us and we'll talk about it, without the need to yell at each other and fight." he gave her a hesitant smile. Then he wrapped her up and pulled her against him, kissing her temple, "Please don't think I love you any less just because I'm a stupid, clueless big man who can't manage his time optimally, okay?"

Celia nodded against his neck, starting to play with the end of his hair strands.

"And I'm sorry if I made you think that for even a second," he closed his eyes as he whispered those words to her.

"I love you dad." said Celia in a muffled voice.

Cassian held her tighter to his chest, "I love you cutie."

Nesta cleared her throat, laying a hand on her daughter's back, "I'm sorry if I didn't pay enough attention to you today too and if I sent you out of the kitchen," she murmured, urging her to look at her. Celia broke away from Cassian, getting off his lap and launching herself at her mother, who caught her and stifled a laugh at the sudden weight.

God, she was growing up so fast, too.

"I love you, Lia." she whispered to her, "Don't ever doubt that, please."

"I love you mom."

They stayed rocking their baby girl for a few more minutes, then Cassian made a joke about the food that was getting cold in their plates, and all three of them got up from the couch and walked into a particularly quiet kitchen.

Nesta took a seat next to Andra and kissed her forehead as she took a green bean from the serving plate with her small hand.

Cassian glanced at all his children present and blew out a cough, "Maybe we should talk about eavesdropping as well."

Ezra turned to Celia, who was wiping her face with her napkin despite the fact that it was already dry, "Sorry for making you feel that way." he smiled at her, "I love you."

Celia nodded, focusing on her food.

"I want to apologize too," Nora said more softly, playing with the edge of the tablecloth. "I shouldn't have kicked you out of the room like that, and if you want to later I'll help you with the problem."

Her sister looked at her and opened her mouth, then closed it, then opened it again, "I would love to."

"Sorry." said Andra, with a rather cute frown on her face. She probably didn't quite understand what had happened, but Celia appreciated either way. Even as she gave her the widest smile as she said, "I love you."

Celia looked at everyone at the table, swallowing noisily, "I love you."

She would talk to Cal another time.

They ate between jokes and pranks and after dinner they all jumped on their parents' bed, cuddling until they all fell asleep there. Cassian and Nesta were forced to give up their room for the night, taking refuge in the guest room instead, but not before showing their children how much infinite love they felt for each of them.

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[themetaphorgirl]

in which Emily makes a poor choice

HEY Y’ALL I AM BACK!!! WITH A PATRON SAINT DRABBLE!!

Y’all can thank @linguinereid for this one!! Sweet Bee suggested this and I ended up writing part of it while I was in line for rides at Epcot. 

I’m excited to be writing and posting again!! Please tell me what y’all think of this one, and tell me what I’ve missed in the past couple of weeks!!

---------

Emily poked at her ear, trying to twist around to get a better look in the mirror. “Shit,” she mumbled, wincing as she prodded a sore spot. She leaned across the bathroom counter, almost sitting in the sink. “I think I fucked up. Shit.”

“That looks infected.”

She jumped in surprise and fell off the counter, hitting the faucet on her way down and splashing water across her shirt. “What the fuck!” she exclaimed. Spencer stood in the bathroom doorway, head tilted and eyes wide like a very small owl. “You little gremlin, you scared the shit out of me! What are you doing in here?”

“You left the door open,” Spencer said. “What’s wrong with your ear?”

She fumbled to turn off the faucet and pick up Hotch’s knocked-over toothbrush. “Nothing.”

“It’s red and swollen,” he said. “That’s a sign of infection. What did you do?” His eyes went wide. “Did you get that piercing after Hotch told you it was a bad idea?”

She smoothed her hair down over her ear. “Nope,” she said. “Why would you think that?”

“I heard you guys arguing about it,” he said. “Hotch said it was against dress code, and you said you didn’t give two fucks about dress code, and he said you were shit at cleaning the piercings you already have and you’d fuck up your ears, and you said-”

“Okay, okay, you and your eidetic memory can stop at literally any time,” Emily said, rolling her eyes. “It’s not that big a deal. There was a girl at the party last weekend who said she’d pierced like everybody’s ears at camp last summer, and she’d always wanted to try an industrial, and-” She paused. “Why am I explaining myself to you? You’re ten.”

“Nine.”

“Close enough. Why are you here, anyway?”

Spencer shifted his weight. “I have to pee,” he said.

“All right, I’ll get out,” Emily said. “But not a word to Hotch, understand? Not a single word. He cannot know about this. You know how smug he gets when he right about something.”

“Is he right, though?” Spencer said. “Did you fuck up your ear?”

“Okay, no swearing either, Alex will murder me if you pick up on me swearing,” Emily said. She stepped out of the bathroom and gave Spencer a little push inside. “Seriously, though. Don’t tell Alex either. You know she’ll be pissed at me too. I’ll- I’ll buy you that Star Wars lego set you want as long as you keep your mouth shut.”

Spencer brightened. “The Millennium Falcon?” he said.

“Sure, sure, why not, just keep your mouth shut!”

She closed the bathroom door and went back down the hall to the common room. It was Derek’s week to pick for movie night; he was having a great time with whatever Will Ferrell comedy he’d chosen, but Hotch was focused on his homework and Alex was reading a book. Emily sat down in her usual spot, tucking her legs underneath her. Her ear was still burning, but she brushed her hair over it surreptitiously. She could keep it a secret, as long as Spencer did. It would be fine.

By Tuesday, she realized it was not fine.

Her ear continued to swell and throb, the skin red and stretched tight around the barbell in the cartilage. She’d had to actually style her hair every morning instead of throwing it up in a messy ponytail or bun, or asking JJ or Alex to braid it for her. It wouldn’t take long for Alex to catch if she kept this up- she was famous for rolling out of bed at the last minute, getting up early to do her hair was drastically out of character. But she wasn’t sure who to be more afraid of catching her, Hotch or Alex.

She sat down at their usual table in the dining hall and pulled her hair back behind her ear, hissing when her nails brushed the irritated skin. “Oh, fuck,” she mumbled under her breath. It wasn’t good. It really wasn’t good. 

Spencer climbed up on the chair beside her. “Are you doing okay?” he asked. 

She sighed heavily. “How bad does it look?” she asked. 

Spencer knelt on the chair so he could lean his elbows on the table. “Pretty bad,” he said. “Ew, is it oozing? I think it’s oozing.” He wrinkled his nose. “You should tell somebody.”

“Like hell I will,” she said, pulling her hair back into place. “This is a hill I will die on.” She paused. “This...this won’t kill me, will it? I won’t actually die on this hill?”

“Probably not, but infection was one of the leading causes of death during the Civil War,” he shrugged. “Try rinsing with saltwater, that might help.”

“Really?”

“Couldn’t hurt. I mean, in a manner of speaking. It’ll probably hurt a lot.”

Emily blinked. “That wasn’t reassuring, babe,” she said.

Hotch walked over to them and set his tray down. “What are you two talking about?” he asked as he sat down and cracked the top of his yellow Red Bull.

“Nothing,” Emily said quickly, dropping her fork in an effort to pick it up fast.

Alex set a glass of milk down on Spencer’s tray. “Sit on your butt or you’re going to fall on the floor again,” she said. 

Spencer tilted his head back to look up at her. “I wanted chocolate milk,” he objected. 

“Plain first, darling,” she said, bending to kiss his forehead. “Now sit down before you fall out of your chair.” Spencer obeyed, sliding down from his knees to sit down. 

Emily poked her fork around in her scrambled eggs. They were way too yellow and a little watery around the edges, and her stomach turned. “Emily, are you okay?” Hotch asked. 

“Yeah, fine, why do you ask?”

He gestured towards her tray with his Red Bull can. “I don’t think I’ve seen you eat anything since you came back from the party on Friday night,” he said. “Are you still sulking because I told you not to pierce your ear?”

“I don’t sulk,” Emily scoffed.

“Yes, you do,” Hotch said. “You’re pissed because you know I’m right, and it would be a terrible idea to get an industrial. Especially since you don’t have a guardian over eighteen to sign off on it, so it’d be illegal.”

Emily stabbed her fork into the eggs. “I’m fine and I’m not sulking,” she said. “But you’re wrong. I’ll be fine if I get my ear pierced.”

She met Spencer’s gaze. His hazel eyes were wide, glancing over first at Hotch and then at Alex, but he kept his mouth shut. Her ear throbbed, but she wasn’t going to give anyone the satisfaction of knowing they were right. 

By Friday, she knew they were right, and she hated it, but damn, her ear hurt. 

She huddled in the corner of the library sofa, her history textbook open on her lap but long forgotten. Her ear was an ever-present pain now, too sensitive to touch, and oozing something disgusting. 

The library was quiet and peaceful, rain tapping steadily on the window. James was sorting through his anatomy flashcards while Dave pretended to write a paper while he was really working on the novel he claimed he wasn’t writing. Spencer was lying on his tummy on the floor, absorbed in a book far above his grade level. The rest of the kids were at clubs or practices, and Alex passed by in her own paths as she shelved books and answered questions.

She glanced up to see Spencer watching her poke at her ear; she dropped her hand and glared at him. “Don’t say anything,” she said to him sharply in Russian. “Remember the Millennium Falcon.”

He sighed heavily. “Your ear looks really bad,” he said. His Russian wasn’t as strong as his Italian, and his accent was terrible, but at least James and Dave wouldn’t understand them.

“Not a word!” she said.

Alex plunked down on the opposite side of the couch, jostling Emily and making her scowl. “I’m taking a break,” she sighed. “The sophomores are working on their poetry projects and I don’t want to discuss Ezra Pound anymore.”

Spencer pushed himself up from the floor. “Alex?” he said. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course, dearest,” she said, taking his hands in hers. “What’s up?”

“If I told you I wanted to do something and you said no, and I did it anyway, would you be mad at me?” he asked.

Emily shot him a dirty look, but he ignored her. “Well, I might be a bit disappointed, but I don’t think I’d be mad,” Alex said, squeezing his hands. 

“If I did the thing anyway, and I ended up getting hurt, would you be mad at me?” he asked. 

“No, I wouldn’t,” Alex said, drawing him onto her lap.

“And you wouldn’t tell me you told me so? And you’d help me?” he continued. 

She frowned, clearly concerned over this line of conversation, and hugged him. “Of course I’d help you, baby,” she said. She stroked his hair away from his forehead. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

Spencer leaned around Alex’s shoulder to make direct eye contact with Emily. She sighed heavily. “So...you know how I wanted to get an industrial piercing, and you and Hotch said it would be a bad idea?” she said hesitantly.

Alex’s eyes narrowed. “Yes,” she said. “Why?” Emily tucked her hair slowly behind her ear. “Emily, holy shit!”

“It’s pretty bad, huh?” Emily said glumly.

Alex moved Spencer hastily off her lap and leaned over Emily to take a better look at her ear. “Oh my god,” she said. “James, can you come take a look at this?”

James pulled his headphones off. “Hm?” he said. “Oh shit! Emily, what did you do?”

She submitted reluctantly to his poking and prodding. “So a girl at the party last week offered to pierce my ear,” she said. “And it...kind of went wrong.”

“That looks like it hurts,” Alex said, smoothing her hair. “It looks super infected.”

“Yeah, that’s the medical term for it,” James said. “Holy shit, Prentiss, I can’t believe you pulled a Parent Trap.”

“A Parent Trap?”

“Yeah, when Hallie pierces Annie’s ear with a sewing needle, an apple, and...you know what, never mind.”

Emily winced as the earring shifted. “Can you just...make Hotch promise that he won’t say I told you so?” she said. 

“I think he’ll agree that you’ve suffered enough,” Alex reassured her. 

Spencer hovered at her elbow. “I would have said something sooner, but Emily said she’d buy me the Millennium Falcon set,” he said.

“Please don’t scold me for bribing the baby, either,” Emily said. 

“Okay, I might scold you about that one.”

[wlw-lovestruck-fiction]

in honor of their route can i request arin and FMC hanging out with the rest of the group and the two trying to sneak away and go do something by themselves

Written by; @somekidnamedkai

Author's notes: aksfjsj i made this a little longer than i meant to with the group part im sorry. i hope you all like it!

It was a bland Friday evening. Nobody had any classes tomorrow, there wasn’t anything special going on the following day, or tonight for that matter.

So, everyone decided to hang out, play some games, drink some drinks, and just spend the night how Fridays are supposed to be spent: Living the best life.

FMC found some old board games in a closet and brought some down, with the help of her best friend, and partner, Arin Langdon. The two were an inseparable pair, where one was the other was there as well.

After FMC and Arin got downstairs, they saw everyone in a circle debating on what to do first.

“Do you guys have cards against humanity?” Omar asked the two siblings as they glanced at each other, neither knowing.

“I didn’t see it in the closet,” FMC replied to him as she plopped down the games she did have down.

“We’ll take your word for it, after all, FMC knows what being in the closet is like,” MMC jokes, teasing his younger sister.

She gave him a playful, death glare. “We have Giant Jenga,” she spoke with a grin. She liked Jenga, it was fun, plus, she normally won.

“Oh we aren’t playing Jenga, I already know you’re going to cheat and win,” Arin said with a smile and kissed their girlfriend's cheek.

“What is this Jenga game you guys are talking about?” Lucas asked them, as FMC, MMC, Arin, and Omar all pointed towards the largest box in front of them.

“You stack these blocks and take one out and put it on top, FMC is a cheater though and always wins,” MMC said answering Lucas’ question, to which he got a kiss in thanks.

“I don’t cheat. You guys are just jealous you aren’t good at the game,” FMC huffed a response as she grabbed the box, “Jenga it is!”

“Do we get a say in this?” Ezra asked as Nora shoved his side with a smile.

“No. You don’t. I do though, and I say we start the night off with Jenga,” Nora told Ezra, as she helped FMC get the game out and set it up.

As FMC and Nora got the bricks and set them up, MMC explained the rules, “So, what you do is you choose a brick, you can’t take one from the top three rows though, you take your chosen brick and get it out, and place it on the top. And you try to make the tower stay up and not fall.”

“And if the tower falls either during your turn or just because of you in general, you’re out,” Omar continued to explain after MMC stopped.

After the two girls got the game setup, everyone argued over who was going to go first, while everyone else was distracted, going about saying they wanted to go first, Arin took a brick, taking first place.

“Okay FMC’s turn,” they said with a smile as everyone looked shell shocked, as FMC let out a laugh and went, taking a brick from the bottom, placing it on the top.

“That’s not- I’m next,” Ezra said and slapped away Lucas’s hand, earning a glare from him in return, but a second later he smiled and playfully rolled his eyes, letting Ezra take his turn.

Ezra had a focused look on his face as he looked at the tower, wondering which brick to take. As he did that Arin grabbed FMCs hand, intertwining their fingers, and as Arin went to whisper something in her ear, someone spoke making them back up.

“If you take too long you’re eliminated,” Omar said to Ezra as he glared back. He grabbed a random one in the middle, before placing it next to FMcs on top.

“See that wasn’t so hard, was it?” FMC teased her friend as he glared, but she could tell he was happy to be there.

“At least I didn’t cheat to go first,” Ezra replied as Arins’ jaw dropped, pretending to be offended.

“These claims you are making are not true, Ezra,” Arin said to him, with a smirk as he chuckled in response.

Lucas went next, taking one from the bottom, MMC going after, then Nora and Omar last.

The group went a couple of rounds, about five to be exact before it was MMcs turn, he went to grab a brick, being very careful, and as he slowly slid the brick, the tower wobbled, “Dammit,” he muttered as he finished taking the brick out, the tower falling just a few seconds after.

Everyone yelped, jumping back as it fell, FMC and Arin laughed as it fell, “It’s FMCs fault. I don’t know how, but I’m gonna blame her,” he said with a grin and laugh.

FMC gasped dramatically, “Really, dear dear brother?” She asked dramatically, as he replied immediately with a yes.

The gang played Jenga for about half an hour, the tower falling many times. After MMC was out, it was Ezra next, then Omar, Nora following him. Lucas lost after Nora, leaving just FMC and Arin.

The two smirked at each other, as they took bricks and placed them up, “I love you, Arin, but I’m not going to let you win,” FMC said with a sweet smile at her partner.

“I’m sure I’ll be fine, you should be the one who’s worried about losing, love,” Arin said, their British accent ringing out, emphasizing when they said ‘love.’

“Uh-huh, keep telling yourself that,” FMC said as Arin went to take their turn, but before she gave them a deep kiss, to distract them into losing.

The girl leaned back, going away from the kiss, and Arin leaned more forward wanting more. “Your turn,” FMC said with a smirk.

The two may have shared several kisses, but Arin would always melt into a kiss, which caused FMCs plan of distracting them to be successful. They went to grab a brick, taking it out of the tower just a little too quickly, because the tower fell, following the brick being taken out.

FMC cheered, being the victor of the game, as everyone else laughed, as Arin chuckled, but looked at FMC, “cheater.”

The path finder looked appalled, “how could you make such claims at me, Arin!” She said dramatically. “I’ve never cheated, I’m a very loyal girlfriend.”

Arin smirked at her, “You know what I meant,” they told her.

Everyone began to grab the bricks and put the game up, putting them in the box. “So, what’s next?” Omar asked as he took a drink from his cup. When FMC, Arin, and Lucas were playing the others got out some alcohol, and got some drinks.

“We could play most likely to,” MMC suggested, as he grabbed another bottle, knowing they’d probably need it.

“What’s that?” Lucas asked, looking at MMC, expecting an answer from him, but FMC answered.

“You say ‘most likely to’ and follow it with something else, like ‘have a lot of children’ or ‘read a million books,’ and the number of people who point at you, that’s how much drinks you take,” FMC explained.

“For example, if I said ‘most likely to steal a box of donuts, however many of us point at you, Lucas, that’s how many drinks you take,” Arin told, giving an example of the game, as the others nodded.

“Why am I the example for that?” Lucas asked, slightly offended.

“Because you’re the most likely to steal a box of donuts,” MMC stated, kissing his boyfriend on his forehead.

“Ok, now that we’ve decided on what to do, who starts?” Nora asked as she and MMC got out some more cups for the game.

“We could go in order from what place they got in Jenga,” Omar suggested, as everyone nodded in agreement.

As they all sat down, the group looked at FMC for what question she was going to do, “Alright. Who’s most likely to..” she began before pausing for a minute to think, “most likely to write a book.”

Right after she finished speaking, everyone pointed at Arin, including FMC, “You trying to get me drunk, babe?” They asked, flicking FMCs leg before they took six shots, one for every finger pointing at them.

“Alright, who’s most likely to make a deal with someone they’ll regret later on,” Arin said, as Omar, Lucas, MMC, and FMC pointed at Ezra, and Ezra and Arin pointed at Lucas.

“Both of you, take drinks,” MMC said, as Lucas took two shots, and Ezra four.

“Alright,” Lucas said after finishing his drinks, “my turn!” the ever so hyper prince said, “who’s most likely to learn a musical instrument for someone they love,” he said as everyone's fingers pointed at MMC.

He took a couple of drinks before playfully rolling his eyes, “I don’t know how I fit into that, but ok.”

Nora beamed, “I’m next. So, who’s most likely to drive hours for one specific food?” She asked

“Lucas, take some shots,” MMC teased his boyfriend as everyone pointed at him, even himself.

“You guys are purposely targeting me, and I’m insulted,” He said, with pretend hurt in his voice, but he took the drinks, “go ahead, Omar.”

“Ok. I got a great one. Who’s most likely too…”

A couple of rounds went by, everyone taking drinks. Soon Arin leaned in, closer to their girlfriend, “as much as I love them, do you want to go somewhere by ourselves?” They whispered in her ear.

“Yeah, I’d love to get some just our time, but how are we supposed to just leave without them asking why?” FMC murmured back, as the guardian thought for a second.

“They’re probably drunk enough that we’ll only need a lame excuse and they won’t question it,” They answered.

“That, or you’re drunk enough to think that plan will work,” FMC teased her partner, as Arin playfully slapped her leg, making her laugh.

Arin was probably the most sobered out of everyone, so they could surely tell FMC was just joking.

“What are you two talking abouutt?” Ezra asked, his words slurring together from how drunk he was.

“Nothing, nothing,” FMC responded to his question, smiling at Arin, kissing their cheek.

“Alright. Well, Lucas, it’s your turn,” Ezra said as the prince nodded, and started to talk.

While Lucas took his turn, “who’s most likely to..” he started but was interrupted as he thought, when Arin spoke up.

“I’ll be back in a minute, I’m going to put the games up, FMC, want to help?” Arin said as they stood up, and FMC nodded, taking their hand.

The couple left the group, games in their hands as they walked to the closet, “Alright, what do you want to do now?” FMC asked as they softly closed the door, looking at Arin.

“We could hang out in your room, and do anything you want. Or play another game,” they suggested as FMC nodded.

“How about we watch some tv and cuddle?” FMC asked, grabbing Arins hands, intertwining their fingers, as they nodded in agreement.

“Are you two almost back?” Nora yelled across the house to the two who left.

“Yup, give us a minute!” The girl shouted back as she and Arin walked up the stairs to her room.

Once they got there, the two kicked off their shoes and headed over to FMCs bed, and turned on the Tv. The redhead pulled FMC towards them, holding her in their embrace, keeping her close, “I love you.”

“I love you too, you dork,” She responded as She cuddled Arin as they watched the tv.

The two watched the movie, talking about random things, and Arin played with FMcs hair, focusing more on her than the movie. Soon the both of them fell asleep.

It was probably midnight, or three am, no in-between, when MMC opened the door to her room, “Hey are you t-” he began to talk, but stopped, when he saw the other two members of the triad, asleep, with their legs tangled together. Lucas snickered looking at them, as MMC shook his head.

“Hope you two are sleeping well,” He softly told them from the doorframe as he walked in, turning off the Tv and bedroom light before leaving, letting the two rest.

[chews-erotically]

Waxing Gibbous 

Pairing: Ezra + femNurse! Reader

Rating: Hard M / 18+ ONLY

       * Warnings: ANGST/ mentions of depression/ anxiety/ sleep paralysis/ Tooth- rotting Comfort it’s disgusting.

      * Summary: Ezra’s demons come to the surface.

      * Word Count: ~1100

      * I am frankly overwhelmed by the positive response to what I’ve written so far. I’ve been feeling a bit on the lonelier side (as I’m sure so many of us are), so this is pretty much me working through my feelings, so I apologize in advance because this SELF-INDULGENT as FUCK. Additional warning for just, flowery dramatic proclamations and shameless fluffy comfort because I am THAT BITCH tonight.

    * As always, if I have added you to the tags and you wish to be removed please let me know immediately and I will do so.

*Part ONE* *Part TWO* *Part THREE* *Part FOUR* *Part FIVE*  *Part SIX*        *Part SEVEN*  *Part EIGHT*  *Part NINE*

PART TEN

      Your new lives together began as a languid chapter of existing slowly, of lazing like cats. You often stayed in your bed, at times going hours exchanging soft words and insistent touches. You stayed unclothed for days on end, only donning a robe to accept the occasional delivery. You drank wine and ate fruit and cheese and read to each other from the books you’d begun amassing. It was heaven, bacchanalian. 

    Ezra would sometimes come up behind you at the kitchen counter and press against your back wordlessly, his arousal begging entry. You’d sigh, tilting your head back onto his shoulder as he slid home and made love to you lazily in the patch of sunlight that streamed through the glass to cut a warm diamond across the checkered French tile. You reveled in one another in such a way that each touch was a devotional, each kiss a promise. You had paid for your sins and for the violence of your past mistakes and bloodied intentions with pieces of your souls. What was left were holes you saw fit to fill with each other.

    By the end of that first blissful week, you began entertaining how you would begin to reveal Central to Ezra. You had often walked past a small cafe that had an attached book store on your way to and from the hospital. It was small and intimate, and seemed tailor-made to entertain his whims. Two streets over you’d spied a tavern that seemed outfitted with copies of retro Earth-style advertisements and poorly taxidermied animals. You itched to walk in every time you passed it. After so much isolation, stress and heartache you were desperate to drink in any vestige of civilization, any morsel of culture you could find.

    The first few times you’d brought up venturing out to Ezra, he’d been able to steer you easily with insistent kisses and roaming hands. 

    “Why would we dream of leaving this heaven, that we have sweat and sacrificed and toiled over, for hours unending?” he’d said softly into your neck as his hand crept downward over the slope of your stomach.

    Eventually in your growing restlessness you grabbed his hands as he once again attempted a seductive distraction and you squeezed them until the stream of words slowly died off on his clever tongue. You met his eyes.

    “Ezra, why do you try to distract me when I bring up leaving the apartment?”

    The corner of his mouth twisted upward, but the gesture did not reach his eyes.

    “Sweet love, we have both been through tours of the realms of seven layers of hell. We have almost perished time and again and have committed our fair share of sins too inumerable to count. Please, do forgive me if I deign to want some modicum of comfort.”

    “You can have comfort, Ez, we can both have it. But don’t you want to peak at what’s outside as well? Aren’t you just a bit curious for what wonders Central may hold?”

    As you continued to speak, the mask slipped away from Ezra’s face. A deep crease of worry, of fatigue, formed between his heavy brows. His eyes became distant, focusing on some faraway and unknowable misery. You reached out to cup his face and turned his mournful gaze upon you.

    “Talk to me, my love. Please don’t hide yourself away.”

    Ezra took a shallow, shuddering breath before responding.

    “I fear I may have lost myself down on that accursed moon, Dove. Where I was certain of so much, I now find myself questioning even the simplest machinations. I find such mundane things as choosing clothing or food to eat almost insurmountable when tasked with the quandary of completion. I’m having dreams at night of things I cannot recall, but I’ve begun to awaken paralyzed, with the weight of a succubus upon my chest. 

    “It is a great humiliation to admit to you, dearest, that the thought of leaving this sanctuary, at present, is one that imbues me with an undue panic.” He was no longer meeting your eyes at this point, his gaze moving to focus on a vague point of focus somewhere past your shoulder.

     You fought hard to swallow past the nefarious lump in your throat, lip trembling and vision blurring. You felt heartless. You had spent so much time reveling in every new and good comfort in your life that had stayed so foreign for so long that you had failed to notice Ezra’s pain. You were a selfish fool. You moved to turn away from him in shame.

    Ezra did not let you. When he noticed your actions, his hand reached to grasp your shoulder. He turned you back to him. He enveloped you in his arms, releasing a steadying breath into your hair. He allowed you to weep against his shirt.

    “Ezra,” you gasped into his chest. “.....please forgive me. I can’t believe I’ve been so blind.”

    He held you against him as if trying to anchor you. He stroked your hair and the side of your face and murmured to you.

    “Dove, you have been my one saving grace. If I am expressing this to you now it is only because you implore me to do so. I have tried valiantly to act as if everything were copacetic since I awoke in that soulless hospital room. Please do not torture yourself with blame when it does not belong to you.” 

    “It kills me that I didn’t notice, Ezra. We’re supposed to be able to take care of each other.”

    “You care for me better than any I’ve known in my long and wretched life, my dearest love. I have these demons through circumstances both within and beyond my control. If not for you I would be rendered truly wretched, unworthy of the lowliest glance from the dregs of the universe.”

    Your hands framed his face, your tears slowing incrementally as his words flowed through you like pure rivulets of gentle intention. You kissed him so gently, so reverently, as if he were a secret thing only reserved for those beholden to the designs of the old gods. Forgotten and precious. Sacred and profane.

     “My soul will always seek out yours, beautiful boy. I will do whatever it takes to help you through this. I will ask nothing from you, ever. If you want to stay here forever I will be by your side. There is truly nowhere else I’d rather be.”

    Ezra’s voice hitched with emotion. He kissed over and over your eyelids, your nose, your cheeks, before settling his parted lips to the crook of your neck, where bore witness to the fluttering of your pulse beneath your skin.

    “I will try, Dove. For you I will move planets. I will raze Kevva themselves to the ground and condemn myself to eternal damnation. For you, I will try.”

Tags: @ifimayhaveaword @thedaysarenotfull @absurdthirst @cinewhore @hopelikethesun @yespolkadotkitty @lose-eels @lackofhonor @din-damn-djarin @mrpascals @theocatkov @thefineandnobleartofavoidance @hellojustheretolookatmeemees @cyaredindjarin @im-like-reallythirsty @mstgsmy @goldafterglow @sistahsarah-sallysaidso @givemethatgold @shaqbutt @sirianisrock @artemiseamoon @thatreclusewriter, @scribbledghost @f0rever15elf @opheliaelysia @qveenbvtch @hdlynnslibrary @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa @spacegayofficial @ezraslittlebirdie @ezrasarm @ezraslittleblondestreak @tintinwrites @kindablackenedsuperhero @darthadeline @alexisinorbit @knittingqueen13 @lueurnotes @xakilicious @keeper0fthestars @huliabitch @di-kut @zombieaurora @corrupt-fvcker @cryptkeepersoul @teaofpeach

[15dots]

Illuminae: The Illuminae Files _01

Synopsis 

The year is 2575, and two rival mega-corporations- ▅▅▅ and ▅▅▅ - are at war over a planet that’s a little more than an ice covered speck at the edge of the universe. Too bad nobody thought to warn the people living on it. With the enemy fire raining down on them, Kady and Ezra are forced to escape on the evacuating fleet. 

But their troubles are just beginning. A deadly plague has broken out and is mutating with terrifying results; the fleet’s AI may actually be their enemy; nobody in charge will say what’s really going on. As Kady hacks into a tangled web of data to find the truth, it’s clear only one person can help her bring it all to the light: the ex-boyfriend she swore she’d never speak again. 

Quotes: 

“Part of being alive is having life change us. The people around us, the events we live through, all of them shape us. And that’s what I think you’re [AIDAN] afraid of. Maybe not of dying. But of this you, the you you’ve become, ceasing to exist.” 

“I’M ON A ▆▆ING DERELICT WARSHIP ON THE RUN FROM THE PSYCHOTIC CREW AND AN INSANE ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE TRYING TO SAVE MY ▆▆ING BOYFRIEND. ▆▆damn right it’s nuts.”

“You have me until every last star in the galaxy dies you have me.”

“Perhaps bravery is simply the face humanity wraps around it’s collective madness.” 

“Am I not merciful?”  

Hi. Here I am. Having finished this book. 

Am I okay? Yes and no. 

Here’s the thing, I get intimidated by big books and this was 599 pages long. It was a big boi. But was this book worth it? You bet your bottom dollar it was!

I completely fell for the story hook, line and sinker. I mean a space pathogen that completely renders their victims into psychotic lunatics? A mistaken, murderous AI who fully believes that it’s saving the fleet? Romance? Witty banter? Are you kidding me? This is everything I ever wanted and didn’t know I needed! 

Kady and Ezra’s relationship, in particular, was really refreshing in the way that they still were able to backchat each other while death loomed over their heads. 

Example: 

Ah, finding humour in dire situations. We love to see it. 

Now honestly, at first I thought it would drag on, just be a repetitive cycle. But I was completely caught off guard. There were nail-biting sections and ones that left me breathless. I was surprised because the story is told through hacked dossier and file documents. There are emails, maps, diagrams of the battleships, medical reports and more. Some of the parts entailed secretive intentions. Like formatting like this: Illuminae is absolutely brilliant, beside the fact some of the lingo made it hard to follow. It was the small details I loved the most. The overall format of the story was so unique and visually entertaining that I think it’s the best way to tell a story such as this one. 

 Greatest thing is, I think this book can just be read as a stand-alone. Even though it’s a part of a trilogy, it’s too good that it can be read by itself. Oh, there are no chapters by the way. So for those who love systematic reading, well you better get used to it, just know this book won’t be your usual.

I also have to mention it felt like I was watching a movie. Seriously, this book was so intense that at times I didn’t realise I stayed up passed midnight. It left me reeling, shocked, confused. I highly, highly recommend it. 5 stars. 10/10. 

Okay I’m off to read the second book. I’m excited, so adios friends. 

Let me know how the first book goes. Or don’t. Depends what you decide.