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x-reader-things · 12 days ago

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Hello! I don't request often so I'm sorry if the wording for this seems a bit weird 😅

But I was thinking if you can do an Ezra Bridger imagine where he has a partner who just likes humming, no matter what they're doing they hum, and it's always the same tune

One day he asks them why they hum so much and finds out that they've been humming a tune that their parents would sing, and they hum it because it relaxes them and it helps them feel at least a bit closer to their family (what happened to them is up to you)

I am so sorry this is late I’ve been in a big block with writing in general and a lot of stuff’s been happening irl-

Ty to the teaser of Ezra’s Season 2 Ahsoka appearance and the fandom’s reactions to the content the actors are creating for sparking the need and the urge to write for this boy again I missed him sm- < / 3 - I hope the characterization is good it’s been so long-

Anyways this was meant to be a blurb but it got away from me lmao

“Just, y’know. Listening.”

Ezra Bridger x Gn!Reader [romantic]

Summary ; In which Ezra asks you what’s the story behind your music.

Requested? ; Yes

Warnings ; light angst, mentions of the empire being The Empire, its implied that the reader and their family had to deal with the imperial’s violence but never directly stated - also not a warning but Ezra is down b a d, and rightfully so imo- 😌😌😌😌😌 also reader has a nickname [ starbird ].

Word Count ; 1.7 k

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The base on Yavin IV was, as per usual, bustling with people from all over the galaxy. All apart of the rebellion. Even if it’s for the smallest task, such as organizing food for everyone, both on and off-base, or making posters and holo-art to spread across the Empire. Music, too.

Even just existing in spite of the Empire, was an act of rebellion itself.

Which, currently, was what you were doing. Sitting on top of the Ghost, with the head of your partner resting in your lap, watching the sun set after a - surprisingly - peaceful day.

Well, mostly peaceful.

You could hear the distant calls of Chopper and AP-5 arguing. Kanan scolding, Hera planning. Sabine was off painting another stormtrooper’s helmet - this time on your request, since you wanted to have a matching set.

And that matching set, was with none other than Ezra Bridger, whose head rested comfortably against your thighs. You leaned back against one of your hands, the metal of the ghost still cold underneath your fingertips.

No matter how many times Ezra and Zeb cleaned, scrubbed, and even buffed out all the scuff marks from all the battles you faced, the scars still remained. Little indents and scratches remained rough beneath your hand, but not enough to snag on clothing. Despite it all, it still remained a bastion of comfort.

And yes, the warm sun that finally reached the entrance of the base helped with that too, however there was only so much that sun could do before it disappeared behind the horizon of the dense trees that surrounded the base. Kept it well hidden, too. You all counted yourselves lucky that Yavin IV was such a large planet.

Ezra shifted next to you, maneuvering himself to lay down a bit more comfortably. His gaze still remained on the sky, but once he deemed himself comfortable enough, he relaxed in his spot long enough for you to start threading your free hand through his short hair.

“Feels nice”, he murmured as his eyes closed. You smiled down at him for a brief second, amused at how he reacted.

“You’re like a Loth Cat”, you teased, earning a halfhearted grunt from said loth cat below you. “No wonder why Kanan had you training to connect with them years ago.”

He cracked one eye open, and gave you the most adorably vicious side-eye he could ever muster against you. When you snickered, he turned his head to glare at you fully.

“Keep saying that and I’m gonna ask Zeb if he wants to cuddle instead,” Ezra threatened, though you knew he didn’t actually mean it. But that didn’t mean you couldn’t mess with him back.

You moved your hand away from his hair, and gasped as if you were scorned. Your hand met your collarbone, as if you were clutching your metaphorical pearls.

“You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.”

You returned his playful glare. Neither of you moved, until the wind rustled the leaves of the forest around you. Ezra broke first, and sighed in defeat, the sound wistful against your ears.

“You’re right”, he relented, not even bothering to bite back his smile. He turned away, and settled his head back on your thighs. “I wouldn’t. And Zeb would kill me.”

You laughed.

Stars, Ezra loved your laugh.

“He would definitely kill you”, you agreed through the sound of your chuckles. Your hand settled back onto its rightful place in his hair. “And probably blame me, too.”

“You opened up a can of worms the first time I let you do this—“, he pointed at your hand, and pretended to be serious once again. “—definitely your fault, Spectre-7.”

“Sure it is, Ez. Sure it is.”

Ezra settled down once again, and you continued to watch the sunset with him. The hush of the base fell over you like a blanket once more. Each noise folded together in the background, none of you perturbed in your little bubble.

Once the edge of the sun began to push against the tree line, you began to hum to yourself. The tune was quiet, and just slightly upbeat, and very nostalgic. For you, at the very least.

It was for Ezra too, not that you ever knew about it. In the years that you’ve known each other, the song was something you always hummed. During random tasks around the ship, in a quiet whisper during a couple of covert intel missions - even when you ate sometimes.

Although when you ate, you didn’t actually hum it, he just knew whatever song it was got stuck in your head when you began to tilt or nod your head at the beat, and lightly bounced your foot against the floor. Your head always moved with the beat.

A motion that never failed to catch his attention.

He slowly turned his head, and stared up at you as you continued the song. He made sure to be discreet. Nothing too sudden, or you would stop. Luck was on his side, you were too busy looking at the sky as the colors faded from light blue to orange to notice the way he moved.

Eventually, he laid on his back, fully faced up at you. When he took your hand from his hair, and threaded his fingers with yours, that was when he finally got your attention. Your humming stopped, much to his chagrin.

“What’s up?”, you asked, voice soft against the wind. Ezra shrugged, and brought your intertwined hands down to his chest. His thumb roved over the back of yours, the fabric of his gloves rough yet not biting.

“Nothing.”, he answered, just as quietly. “Just, y’know. Listening.”

“Ahh… right...”

You trailed off after you nodded in response, and picked against one of the scratches intended on the metal below you.

“… ‘S it bothering you?”, you asked, not in the very least self conscious. It wasn’t something you were embarrassed about, you just didn’t want to accidentally pop the peaceful bubble the two of you made together.

“No, no”, he shook his head. “Not at all, starbird. Just… yknow.”

He shrugged again. “Makes me curious, that’s all.”

“How so?”

“Where’s it from?”

You blinked in surprise. You weren’t expecting him to ask that. No one ever did, actually. They never assumed anything, never took a deep dive to look into it themselves. They just all… let you be.

Which you were grateful for, to some degree.

And at the very least, they didn’t look at you like you were crazy like those bounty hunters did, before the Ghost Crew found you those years ago.

Maybe that was why they never asked, you thought, because they appeared just after one of the hunters verbally berated you for the humming. It didn’t bother you, actually. The verbal beratement - you’ve heard it all before. The Empire wasn’t at all creative with insults while they occupied your planet, and neither were the bounty hunters they hired when you escaped.

That didn’t mean you missed talking about it, though. Your planet. Your culture, your parents.

And Ezra was willing to listen, like always.

You smiled, and gazed back up at the sky, orange fading into a dusty pink. “My parents.”

You sighed through your nose, and began to regale your partner with the explanation behind your music. “My mom used to trot around like one of those Blurrgs on Ryloth, and sang this song while I sat on her shoulders—“, your laugh blended into your words. “—my dad always encouraged her to go faster, and joined in sometimes too. Sometimes she would sing me to sleep with it, and after the empire found my planet, so did my dad. They taught me the words while we cooked our food, while I did my homework, while we cleaned…”

You trailed off once more, your smile dimming at the edges. “When we went into hiding they whispered it into my ear so I wouldn’t cry. Music was part of my culture. The tune, the song, was part of everyone’s childhood. Didn’t realize that until they banned it, saying it was dark magick, yknow, the kinds those nightsisters used.”

Ezra scoffed from below you. You huffed wryly, and glanced back down at him. His hand tightened its grip around yours, for a sliver of a second. “Stupid, I know. It got so bad that the empire was convinced that whenever it was sung we were casting curses on them.”

You laughed at the memory, and Ezra joined you. He knew as well as you did that laughing at the horrors you both had endured from the empire - in different ways, of course - was the best medicine. Always was.

“Can’t imagine you casting a curse”, he said, and rolled his eyes at the thought. “You’re way too nice for that.”

“Am I really?”

You raised a brow at him. He hummed in feign thought, tapping a knuckle from his free hand against his chin.

“Most of the time.”, he teased. You snorted, and shook your head.

“Very rude, Spectre-6.” You said, clicking your tongue a couple times against the roof of your mouth. “Very rude.”

He shrugged again, the motion nonchalant, as if he said nothing wrong. “No idea what you mean, Spectre-7.”

You both shared another bout of quiet chuckling. The sky had begun to melt into a darker pink, when you gently broke the blanket of quiet once more.

“… Wanna know what my parents did when we first heard that rumor?”

The Jedi lying on your lap hummed in response to your question.

“What’d they do?”, Ezra asked, a gentle urge for you to continue.

“They just sung it louder.”

Despite the underlying loss behind your words, he knew exactly what you were feeling. The lightness he felt in his shoulders, the way the warmth that surrounded you when he reached out to you through the force morphed into something stronger.

You were proud.

The last remaining glow of the sun caught against your face. The amber and gold hues illuminated your hair and skin, and it bounced off of you like you were the one that emitted the star’s rays yourself.

His eyes grew soft, pupils growing ever so slightly. His cerulean blues gazed reverently into yours, your own eyes catching more of their color when the light hit them just right. Knowing what he knew now… well.

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t fall even further into the galaxy for you.

The sun dipped below the horizon, lost beneath the trees.

“It’s a good thing they did, starbird.”

#ezra bridger x reader #romantic!ezra bridger x reader #star wars rebels x reader #romantic!reader #romantic x reader #x reader #AUGH I missed the boy < / 3 #i’m love him #oml < / 3

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x-reader-things · 16 days ago

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THEMMMMMM- <333333

Ezra my beloved this was so cute-

And the hug!!! AUGH-

"The Chase" Ezra Bridger x Reader

(A/N: In a merfolk au, Ezra still holds a special power and you hold the power of knowing it’s his day off. Warnings: Use of (Y/N) for your name and a fish attempting to take a bite. Some pining too. Word Count: 1,407 words)

A day without worries. Hours with no responsibilities. Warm, clear water surrounding every sea creature. It’s a perfect day, you thought. Your tail propelled you forward alongside a school of tiny fish. Gaze searching, you smiled candidly. More perfect. Once spotting your dark-haired best friend, you dove behind larger coral. You didn’t want him seeing you just yet. He hasn’t had time off in ages. You peered between a gap in the structure. Hands searching in front of him, he kept busy. What is Ezra doing? You wondered curiously. The many shades of blue and green on his tail reflected the filtered sunbeams from above in a calm radiance. He shouldn’t be working. You reaffirmed and circled around, out of his direct line of sight. Keeping low, you swam closer. Not behind him; you didn’t want to scare him.

“Come on. There has to be one,” Ezra muttered to himself. “One wh—?” A yelp escaped your friend as you popped up beside him. “Hi.” You smiled. “Hi.” He did a quick check around before looking back to you. “Where’d you come from?” “I thought Hera had that talk with you.” Ezra pursed his lips together. Smiling more, you shrugged. “I thought you had training or patrol today.” “So did I.” A smirk grew across his lips. “Then what are you doing?” You eyed the green vegetation before the pair of you. Hands on his hips, his striking blue eyes glanced over the greens once more. His nose scrunched up slightly. Ever the mysterious one, you thought, for more than one reason. “I wanted to find that food again.” “Oh.” You nodded as if that answer was specific enough. “Sure.” “Hera’s favorite,” he added. “Ah.” A fruit you deemed rare considering you only knew it by description and one glimpse years ago. You had no experience or opinion of its taste. But you trusted Hera’s preferences. “Does it usually grow around here?” You asked, peering around as schools of fish passed by. “It’s where I’ve found it before.” “Then I’ll help.” “Really?” Ezra perked up. “Yeah.” You swam over to a similar vegetation spot. “Why not?” He smiled widely, brightly. Like the moonlight, bright in all the darkness and lovely. Tearing your gaze away from your friend, you ducked underneath foliage as it swayed with a light water current. A tiny fish sped away at your sudden appearance. “Sorry.”

Just like that the search for at least one fruit began. Twisting, tilting, and brushing away green foliage kept you busy. The fruit was in season — meaning there was hope. A chance of finding one and victoriously giving it to Ezra. He’s done plenty for the pod. For everyone, you thought, and he always helps. He takes nothing in return. That’s a lot for someone with abilities like him. Not everyone would ask for nothing. But this is Ezra. Something relatively smooth bumped against your searching fingertips. Peering through the thicker greenery, you grinned victoriously. You plucked an orange and yellow melon. It had some weight to it and small bumps scattered across it. I wonder how good it is, you thought before your gaze found Ezra’s tail sticking out of a large growth of foliage. A giggle escaped you. Only he could be so powerful and so silly at the same time. In a wave of dark, tousled hair, Ezra sucky his head up and out of the bush. “What?” “You.” You gestured to him with the fruit. “Hey,” he grinned, “you found one.” You nodded with a smile. Of course, you fully intended on giving him the fruit. He had been the one primarily searching after all. Yet . . . Slowly, Ezra’s grin lost its shine as his expression altered. It is his day off now. “(Y/N)?” A smirk snuck its way across your lips and in a pop of a bubble, you darted away. “(Y/N)!”

Laughter rung out through the colorful reef. Bubbles trailing behind you as you held onto the melon. Only a glance could be allowed to verify that Ezra was indeed giving chase. A determined and lively look on his face. Ezra was fast, but you had new trick moves. Rolling to the right, you swam over a small stingray and dove behind a large anemone. You didn’t stop there. “Hey,” Ezra called once he discovered you hadn’t stopped to hide. “I thought you wanted this?” You waved with the melon as you floated by a collection of towering coral. “I do.” “Then come on.” You twirled into another direction, moving your tail as fast as you could manage. Weaving between other sea creatures and marine life, you needed to gain some distance. Just to lengthen the chase. The fun. To hear his laughter not far behind. That was something to live for. It certainly brightened your days on the reef. To see Ezra untroubled was brighter and warmer than the light from above. Sharing that time with him, even in the smallest amount, was more than you could ask for. Which was something you were more aware of as you got older. Like waves upon the shore, your times together would move closer to something that could not simply be called friendship. You jolted forward as Ezra managed to tap your fin. “Almost!” He called. Not yet, you thought as you dove under, around, and through schools of fish. Just a moment more. You ducked behind a much older form of coral. The water almost felt cooler while you floated, waiting. It wouldn’t be long, you were sure.

Catching your breath, you watched Ezra peer around the coral colony that seemed to fan out in all directions. But that didn’t mean he’d have too much trouble finding you amongst the pinks, oranges, and yellows. Soon enough, his blue gaze found you. A happy pull to his lips made you smile as well. Until his gaze shifted to somewhere behind you. “Look out!” Ezra shouted. Quickly, you peered over your shoulder and fear shot through your veins as you spotted a barracuda with dark eyes for you. It was poised to strike. You pushed yourself off of the sturdy coral as Ezra stuck out his hand and used his powers. Water surging and bubbles forming, he pushed the fish away and their idea of taking a nibble out of you. “That was close,” you exhaled further into the reef. Only then did you notice how you had unknowingly put your back to open water. “Are you alright?” Ezra swam up to you with worry in his eyes. “I’m fine, thank you.” You glanced down to the melon still in your grasp. “I…still have your fruit.” “That’s…good.” You peeked up at him. For a moment it was quiet. Only verbally silent as eyes told much more. Ezra embraced you closely without a word. Conversation wasn’t needed, not then. Not when you wrapped your arms around him in return and felt as his muscles relaxed. Throughout your fun, you had neglected to pay close attention to all of your surroundings. It could had resulted painfully. Thankfully, it hadn’t. “Thank you,” you whispered. The embrace tightened. “I had to keep you safe.” He murmured into your shoulder. Leaning out of the hug enough to see him, you declared, “I should’ve been more careful. I was too busy…playing.” Your shoulders hunched, embarrassed to admit your silliness out loud. “We were both playing.” Ezra’s sweet smile returned. “And there’s nothing wrong with that.” You felt as his fingers wiggled against your back. Before you could mentally question it, the melon left your hold and floated up beside the pair of you. Ezra smirked. “I have a feeling we’re still playing.” You rose an eyebrow accordingly. Gingerly, he nudged the tip of his nose to yours and responded with a wide smile. “Only if you’re up for it.” Ignoring the warmth rising in your skin from his cute action, you nodded. “Race you back?” “If you can keep up, maybe I’ll let you have some.” The melon spun in place with tiny bubbles. In a blink of an eye, the pair of you swam off leaving a storm of bubbles behind and a startled crab. Bobbing and weaving with unrestrained laughter. No more known worries for the day. Only fun times and delicious fruit ahead. Because life was the bubbles and you would spend as much time as you could with Ezra under the sea.

~~~ (If you love my writings and want to support me, I have a Ko-Fi where you can buy me a coffee. I would be eternally grateful.coffee Best wishes and happy reading.)

DreamerDragon Tags: @cubedtriangle Star Wars Tags: @sweetheartliz07 @

Let me know if you would like to be tagged in insert readers, either through replies, ask, or message.

#ezra bridger x reader #MY BOY MY MAN AUGH #I’m love him #oml #<33333

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x-reader-things · 22 days ago

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I've seen a lot of ff writers apologize for their fic being "self-indulgent" which baffles me cause like is that not the entire concept of fanfiction?????

SAY IT WITH ME FOLKS, "FANFICTION IS SUPPOSED TO BE SELF-INDULGENT"

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x-reader-things · 1 month ago

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Ok updated my pinned posts again - I know it says requests closed, but for the sake of some extra stuff to get me inspired to write a bit more [or at least try to], I will open it again for primarily Ironheart-

It is such a good show-

Anyways, the characters I’ll write for are Riri Williams and Parker Robbins specifically-

That is all-

Rules / pinned post here!!

#ironheart x reader #riri williams x reader #parker robbins x reader #mcu x reader #x reader #romantic x reader #platonic x reader #romantic!reader #platonic!reader

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x-reader-things · 2 months ago

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I need to give Duke Crocker a hug- :(

And then like a month away from Haven or smth that man needs a break-

#duke crocker #not x reader related but whatever #:(#this man yall #augh #< / 3

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x-reader-things · 2 months ago

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I’m liking it a lot so far!! And I love the pirate stuff and the vibes and also just the aesthetics of it all - it really draws you in- :00

Fr, Hobie is DEFINITELY going through it oml- Redheads can be very powerful!! [fun fact actually ; my mom jinxed her godmother into having twins when she was a teen as a joke when they found out her godmother was pregnant, and then her godmother was like “NO DONT SAY THAT—“ and then it happened it’s so funny]

Art block conquered but new challenger approaches - executive dysfunction w / too many ideas /lh-

Also I’m doing alright!!

I hope you’re doing ok too- :DD

So I started reading BDAS a little while ago [and then got distracted by other fandoms < / 3 ] so I’m about 4 almost 5 chapters in, but every time MJ comes up and the similarities between reader and MJ gets addressed i imagine it’s even worse bc my spidersona is. Also very much so a redhead like MJ [and like me too ofc lmao]-

So like w / Hobie he’s getting like a double dose of pain when there’s someone who kind of looks like MJ and only acts like her sometimes is now on the ship, and he has to see her every day too-

And as sad as that is I also find it absolutely hilarious bc that man is really going through it cause of a r e d h e a d-

Anyways all jokes and pain aside-

Hi it’s been a while!!! :DD [so many wips and I also just got back into drawing again after an artblock I am aaAAA]

- @x-reader-things

OMG HI, ANGEL ❤️❤️❤️ Gasp how you liking it so far? Thank you so much for reading bdas!!!

BAHHAHAHAGHAHA THAT'S ACTUALLY HILARIOUS 😂 Not for Hobie tho 🤭🤣 poor guy gets whiplash everytime he sees R/you 😂😂 redheads are powerful methinks 🤔

Yay! For conquering your art block! Have fun making art!! I hope you're well ❤️❤️❤️

#I imagine that the MJ In BDAS has curly red hair #so one thing that gives Hobie some reprieve is the fact that my spidersona has straight red hair #‘man I wish I had curly hair’#‘No love you do not - besides you have a bit o’ waves in there’#‘but curly hair is so pretty- :(‘#BDAS Hobie who’d be in more shambles than he already is if my sona had curly red hair ;#it is very fun to think about sometimes oml

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x-reader-things · 2 months ago

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The Ace Up Your Sleeve Job

Pairing: s2/3!Breanna Casey/Ace!20s!Reader

Reader Gender: Non-Man (not plot relevant)

CW: established relationship, dinner date based on The Date Night Job, discussion of reader having a job interview, relationship problems that comes with lying to your partner about doing crime, communication, reader is chill with crime, reader is a baker, reader has no sense of self-preservation and would likely die in a horror movie, reader thanks god, awkward dating things, awkward family meeting, Breanna ran a background check on you, minor references to OT3 (sue me), cute dating things

Word Count: 2515

Summary: Dating sometimes has its complications, and even more so when you’re in a relationship with a criminal.

A/N: Happy Pride! I have more ideas for Breanna fics, so I’m continuing them in a mini-series! This one is significantly longer than the other. Needless to say, I enjoy writing for Breanna.

Part 1 | Masterlist | AO3

Breanna had invited you to dinner in the courtyard tonight. The space was lit with soft string lights and candles. The soft lighting was calming and peaceful, settled your anxiety and nerves into a simmering excitement low in your belly. A small vase of pink and white flowers sat next to a candle at the table. It never ceased to amaze you just how sweet Breanna could be. All romantic and dorky and perfectly sweet while being completely secretive and shady.

She waved you over to the table, and pulled your chair out while you took off your coat. A warm saccharine feeling swelled in your chest.

“Stay here. I’ll go get the food.” She gestured for you to sit, eagerness in her voice.

It was nice, having dinner like this. Just the two of you in her family’s courtyard, a nice meal, and good conversation.

She was beautiful tonight. Well, she was beautiful all the time, even when she was exhausted at her computer under a blanket, but tonight she looked exquisite. Her hair was pulled back in a low bun, with two braids circling her head like a crown. She wore a white marbled hoodie under a light pink blazer.

“So, how did your interview go?” She asked before taking a bite.

As you answered, her phone dinged and her attention went to her phone. You raised an eyebrow and paused. “Everything okay?”

She sighed, and flipped her phone screen-down. “Just my family. It’s fine.” She glanced down at the meal and jolted in surprise. “Oh, but you know what, I just realized I forgot the hot sauce. I’ll be right back.” Before you could say anything, she went inside, phone in-hand.

You sighed. There it was again. Her super-secret job. It didn’t truly bother you, not really. It was important to her, so it was important to you. But she kept you firmly separated from it. Breanna wanted to keep you safely away from it all. Apparently it ended her last few relationships. It never worried you, though. You could handle a bit of shadiness. You just hoped it wasn’t the kind of stuff that hurt people. That thought curdled your stomach. It was practically your only worry with Breanna.

She came back a few minutes later with a bottle of hot sauce and an embarrassed smile. “Sorry about that. You were telling me about your interview?”

“Oh, yeah!” You smiled, “Like I said, I think it went well. Hopefully I get it. I’m not sure how long I can stay at my current job.”

“You will. You’re more than qualified.”

The conversation continued from there. At certain points, you almost forgot to enjoy the food. The topics of discussion bounced around in the way it often did when you’re comfortable with someone. Everything from the state of the world to her latest robotic creation to new movies. It was nice. Until she suddenly jerked again.

She cursed softly. “I can’t believe I forgot the side salad! I grabbed the hot sauce, but completely forgot the side salad.” She excused as she disappeared back inside.

A shot of… dare you say disappointment hit your chest. Yeah, you suppose it was disappointment. Disappointed for the interrupted date. Here you were, completely falling for this woman, and she kept running away to do god-knows what. Frankly, it wasn’t the fact that her family needed her, or the fact that she kept leaving the table. No, it was more the fact that she couldn’t – wouldn’t – tell you about it. And you understood. You did. But, man if it didn’t hurt all the same.

She was gone longer, this time. And you got the hint. Whatever was going on, her family needed her. You sighed, and took another bite of your food. Maybe you should head out…

You were pulling on your coat as Breanna rushed back in. “Oh, no, no, no, please don’t go.”

You sighed. “Look, Breanna, I get if something’s going on with your family, but I’d rather you just, you know, tell me next time. Instead of just lying and running out like that.”

She ran a hand over her hair and looked down. Her lines of her face tight with worry. “You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s just… my family, my job, is… we’re shady, man. You know it ended my last relationship, and I don’t want it to end this one. I really like you.” Her eyes danced over your face, searching for a reaction.

“And I’m fine with that, Breanna.” You smiled, “Really, I am, but just talk to me next time, okay?” Her shoulders relaxed and she nodded. “I just have one question.” She inclined her head. “You’re not, like, hurting people, right?”

She shook her head. “No, no, we don’t hurt people. I mean,” her head titled, “we do, but only like super bad guys.”

You laughed. “What? Like Robin Hood or something?”

She smirked and chuckled. “Yeah, I’m like Robin Hood.”

The disappointment and hurt left like it was never there. Replaced with contentment and satisfaction of knowing everything was alright in your relationship. That little bit of knowledge she told you meant the world, all things considering.

“Alright, Robin Hood,” you smiled softly, relishing in the contentment of the moment, “you have some family business to attend to. We can do something when you’re done.”

The square pink box was balanced carefully in your hand as you knocked on the light blue courtyard door. The cake had come out perfect. A new recipe and a whole lot of experimenting had resulted in the best lemon blueberry cake you’d ever made. You were practically buzzing with excitement at showing Breanna. You’d texted her you were coming over the second you finished icing it. It was always so much fun sharing your baked goods with others, but especially Breanna. Maybe it was sharing it with someone you cared about (you wouldn’t say love, but it was definitely something close).

You knocked on the door. After a few moments, no one answered. With a frown, you knocked again. Huh. Usually, Breanna told you if she was busy, or gone, or doing her Robin Hood thing. You called her, just to be sure.

It went to voicemail.

“Hey, Bree. I stopped by your place, but I guess you’re busy at the moment. I finished that cake I was telling you about. Guess I got so excited, I forgot to make sure you were available. Come over to mine when you’re free,” you moved to lean against the door, “and we can watch that movie you were telling me about the other day- “ you were cut off with a gasp as the door moved beneath you.

That’s weird… That door was always locked. Always. Breanna and her family were crazy serious about security. (You imagined it had something to do with her vigilantism.) Concern rose in your chest. Your heartbeat thundered in your ear. You ended your voicemail. If something bad happened…

You pushed the door open. The courtyard looked the same as it always did. Nothing out of the ordinary.

“Breanna?” You called, concern lacing your voice. You set the cake box on one of the tables and crept further into the courtyard. “Hello? Breanna, you here?” Voices echoed from inside. You walked toward them. “Hello? The door was unlocked. Is everything okay?”

You walked over to the wooden door with windowpanes. Inside the bar stood Breanna and four other people: two older women (one brunette, one blonde) and two older men (one familiar – Eliot, you think – and the other not). Her family. It had to be. You’d never met them, but Breanna talked about them since she’d told you about the true nature of her job.

Oh, thank god. You let out a sigh of relief, and let your shoulders drop. She was busy, though, so you turned to leave. One of the biggest tenets of your relationship was the boundary between you and her work. It was one you respected above anything. With your back turned, you didn’t see Eliot’s eyes lock onto you, or everyone else’s heads turn, or Breanna’s eyes widen as she ran over to the door.

“Y/N?” Breanna’s voice stopped you short. You spun around, eyes wide. “What, uh, what’re ya doing here?”

“Uh, hi.” You gave an awkward wave. “The door was open. I was just making sure everything was okay.”

She shot her family a look and came up to you. “You didn’t say you were coming over today. We’re, uh, we’re a bit busy.”

“I texted. Got a bit excited and forgot to see if you actually responded.” You smiled sheepishly. “Sorry. I brought cake.”

She shook her head fondly, then glanced behind her again. “Well, since you’re here, do you want to meet my family?”

You tried not to smile. It was something you’d discussed briefly before, but Breanna wanted to keep you safely away from her job at all costs, even if that meant keeping you away from her family. The whole Robin Hood thing wasn’t a dealbreaker in the slightest. It was completely in character, and, if you were being honest with yourself, incredibly attractive. “I’d love to.”

Breanna reached out and took your hand. Her palm was slightly sweaty. With a gentle squeeze, she tugged you toward the small crowd that had gathered in the doorway. “Uh, guys, this is my partner, Y/N.” You waved awkwardly to them. “Y/N, this is Sophie,” she pointed to the older brunette woman, “Parker,” she gestured to the blonde woman, “Harry,” next was the lawyer-looking man, “and you already met Eliot.” Last was the man you’d met the first time you were here.

“Hi, it’s nice to finally meet you all. Breanna talks about you all the time.” You said.

“All the time, huh?” Parker eyed Breanna.

“I mean, I only told them the basics.” She shrugged innocently. “They’re cool with it.”

All eyes landed on you. Eliot’s eyebrow raised and Sophie scanned you. “You guys are like Robin Hood, so yeah, I’m cool with it.”

“Besides,” Breanna continued, “I ran a background check and they’re clean.”

“Wait, what?” You asked. That never occurred to you, but you supposed it made sense. Criminal vigilantes had to make sure the people who got close were actually who they said they were. Had it been anyone else, you might feel violated, but knowing Breanna, it didn’t feel like a privacy violation so much as assurance. And it meant she wanted to keep you around. “I feel like I should be more weirded out than I am.” You mumbled to yourself.

She squeezed your hand and awkwardly chuckled. “Yeah, sorry about that.”

“Well, it was lovely to meet you, Y/N, but we have some work to get back to.” Sophie interrupted, her voice pleasant and gently urging.

“Oh!” You jolted slightly at the reminder. “I should let you get back to what you’re doing.” You moved to pick up the cake box, hand still intertwined with Breanna’s. “You guys should enjoy this, though.”

“Is that cake!?” Parker bounced on her heels and reached out. Eliot snatched her around the waist and pulled her against his chest.

“No, no, you brought that for the two of us.” Breanna protested. Her face was creased with a bit of guilt.

“Hey, it’s okay, Bree. I want you guys to enjoy it.” You tried to hand her the box.

“Or you could join us.” Sophie’s voice once again interrupted.

“What?”

“I’m just saying, you already know what we do, so why don’t you come in and join us for a slice?” She continued.

Breanna bounced on her heels, her eyes sparkled with excitement and her face lit up. “You serious?” Sophie nodded. “Yes! Come on! I can’t wait to show you around!” She laughed and moved to tug you inside.

You’d never been inside their actual base. Only the courtyard. It truly was beautiful. High ceilings with stained glass and a glorious bar. There was a bay of TVs on the stage, with the bank statements – among other things – for some tech CEO. Paintings and pictures lined the peeling walls. It was gorgeous and homey. Breanna dragged you over to the bar as you gawked. You placed the box on the bar top.

Eliot pulled plates and a knife from somewhere behind the bar. The cake had survived the trip from your apartment well. It still stood with its candied blueberries and lemon peel perfectly placed on top the carefully applied cream cheese frosting. You took it out carefully. Eliot twirled the knife (impressively) and handed it to you.

“What is it?” He asked as you handed out slices.

“Lemon blueberry with cream cheese frosting. I’ve been working on this recipe for a few years now.” You replied, forcing the pride and excitement at people trying your food down.

Breanna leaned against you as everyone ate. Her shoulder pressed against you, her thigh too. You leaned into her too, taking comfort in her warmth. Your free hand brushed up against hers, and her pinky linked with yours. A blush worked its way up your cheeks and you ducked your head to hide it.

“How’d ya get the blueberries so even?” Eliot asked after a sound of satisfaction.

Your attention turned to him as you softly smiled. “If you wash them and toss them in flour, it prevents them from sinking.”

“Huh.” He took another bite.

“So,” Harry started, “how did you two meet?”

You and Breanna looked at each other, and she launched into the story of her ace-ing rescue.

It was nice, being part of a family like that. Breanna’s family was incredible. It was a bit awkward at first, and you let her do most of the talking at first, but they were easy to warm up to. Maybe it was the fact that Breanna’s touch never left yours, but a warm saccharine feeling stayed with you the whole time. They didn’t let slip much about the actual details of their work. But they were thieves. Obvious, from everything you learned. And you feel like that should bother you more than it did. The world had gone to hell. It felt good, knowing there were people working to fix the worst of it.

After everyone finished their slice (two for Parker), Eliot took the dirty dishes and disappeared down the hallway. Breanna guided you back to the door. Her hand never left yours. Spending time with her like this was the best part of your week. And meeting her family was a huge step. One you relished in.

“I had a really nice time. Thanks for letting me stay.” You smiled, brushing your hand against her cheek. Her face went soft. Eyes fluttered half-shut, lips dropping just slightly.

She leaned into your hand. “Yeah, well, I’m just glad I forgot to set the door security. Otherwise, I would’ve missed you.”

You giggled softly. “Yeah, me too.” You let your hand drop to rest against her chest. “Come over when you’re done saving the world, okay?”

Part 3: The Acing It Job

Do not copy to another site. Ask for permission before bookbinding. I EXPLICITLY FORBID ANYONE FROM FEEDING MY FICS TO AI. All rude comments will be blocked and deleted.

Buy me a coffee?

#GOING TO READ THIS RN REBLOGGING BC I NEED TO SCREAM #ACE READER TOO????????#DURING PRIDE MONTH?????????????#YEAHHHHHH #OP YOU ARE AMAZING TY TY TY TY TY TY TY #I AM ACE AND PANROMANTIC TYYYYYY

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x-reader-things · 2 months ago

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I have like 3 ekko wips [2 of which I need the motivation again for TvT and one I started yesterday] and then a few Ezra Bridger [from Star Wars Rebels] requests / wips that I need to work on too-

How are my angels doing? ❤️ Any new wips you've been working on? ☺️☺️

#and other requests too ofc but I need to go through them again a u g h

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x-reader-things · 2 months ago

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< / 3

INK AND BEDROCK READER AND EKKO MY BELOVEDS-

Augh am just thinking of how sweet this is and then B O O M I think of that monster thing (from that one Noxus video I keep thinking about every so often) following reader home or smth and I’m just p a i n- no, not rn, these guys need to be happy and reader and Ekko a break from Noxus chaos, I b e g-

Anyways angsty idea aside-

THIS IS SO BITTERSWEET BUT LIKE IN THE NICEST WAY-

Hi pookie bear!!

Your girl here misses Ink and Bedrock so bad 😓

I was just thinking of maybe a lovestruck Ekko who just misses his darling so much he gets to dream of her. He's so, so in love and he carries saudade (if you guys don't know, it means a longing for someone but not the hurting type? it's a brazilian portuguese word that doesn't have a proper translation!) so deeply in his heart that he's not even mad after he wakes up. He's glad he got to see R again, even if it was inside of his mind. 🥹

I miss ink and bedrock so much! Thank you for requesting, bleaky!! I hope you like it ❤️❤️

Pairing: Ekko x fem! Reader

Word count: 1.2k

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader (except for clothing), set in my series ink and bedrock, established relationship, noxian! Reader, lovestruck! Ekko, cw food mentions, fluff!

Ink and Bedrock

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Ekko opens his eyes to the sight of a sea of red and green flowers. Emerald grass kissing his legs, sunlight drenching him in warmth. The breeze dances around him, a flurry of leaves and red poppies. The place is pure paradise, soft and gentle to him, as if it’s pulling him into the grass so he could rest upon the caressing flora.

Just as he was about to succumb to its call, he sees a figure in the distance. Amidst the fluttering petals and sweet smelling air, he sees you just like how he last saw you before you got onto the blimp with a promise that you'll be back home before he knew it. You're in your signature crimson coat that drags along the blades of grass as you walk slowly towards him. An angel draped in red, smiling at him sweetly with those lips he still remembered the feel of upon his own.

“Hi, firefly.” You greet, head tilted as you look at him through your lashes. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Hey, trouble.” Ekko breathlessly says, chest warm, hands already outstretched to meet with your own. “How?”

“Guess you missed me so much that you managed to conjure me.” Your hands intertwine with his own, fingers sewing together in a perfect pair. Your hands have ink stains dotted along your palms, it sticks to his own but he doesn't care when you're right there in front of him as real as the sky itself. “Come here, please.”

With your words, he lunges for you, chest to chest, face finding the crook of your neck as he sighs out. You're warm against him, and you smell just like how he remembered— vanilla and sea breeze. You still feel like home, as if you never left.

“Have you eaten yet?” You ask, arms enveloping around him as you gently guide him down on the grass with him still fully embracing and breathing you in.

“Of course that's the first thing you ask.” His words are muffled against your skin.

Chuckling, you trace your knuckles over his back, lazily dancing your fingers all over and drawing shapes. “Well I can't have you starving now just because I'm not home.”

Leaning away, Ekko wants to tell you so many things, stories that he needs you to know while you were gone. The two of you have been writing to each other almost everyday, but it doesn't compare to the real thing, it doesn't compare to him holding you, kissing you like it was the first time. And hearing your voice like it's the most beautiful ballad he has ever heard of. Missing you was an understatement, he felt like his heart was outside of his body, miles away from him while it still beats.

“I'm eating, don't worry. Are you okay? In Demacia?” Cupping your cheeks, you lean against his touch, eyes softening while his thumbs rub along your jaw. “No one's giving you trouble?”

Hands upon his chest, Ekko thinks that you can feel his quickening heartbeat beneath your palm. That confirms it when you beam at him with a light-hearted smile. “That's good, make sure you don't miss a meal, okay?” He nods along, “and I'm fine, like how I wrote to you, it's nothing I can't handle.” The sea glass bracelet he gave to you shines around your wrist, and you're the first one to make a move, leaning down to kiss the corner of his lips with a flutter of your lashes.

“I missed you…” he almost chokes on his words, eyes closed as he feels you pepper his face with slow saccharine kisses. “Zaun missed you.”

“Wow, the whole place did?” You sarcastically say, giggling atop his forehead while you smooch every bit of space on his face. He can't help but match your smile. “There hasn't been a single day that I didn't miss you, my firefly. We're doing good work here, and I'll be home soon, I promise.”

Ekko looks at you through half lidded eyes, “but you're already here?”

Hand splayed over his heart, you kiss him affectionately, like a flower petal brushing along his lips, brief yet he felt it through his bones. “I'm right here.” You poke his chest, “always.”

“And you say that I'm the romantic one.” Tugging you closer, he kisses you fully, he could feel your smile through the sweet kiss, your giggles ebbing through his rib cage and into his heart.

As he parts, he sees your tearful eyes smile at him. “You are the more romantic one, I'm just following your lead, Ekko.”

“We're both romantics then.”

“Oh we're so in love with each other it's sickening.” You utter with a grin, laughing as the sun shines behind you, bathing you with its glow.

He smiles, pulling you back against him until your head lays on his chest. Upon the dewy field of grass and flowers, he cradles you in place. Heart singing your name and hands holding you, caressing as he whispers stories into your ears. Stories that you missed but would gladly tell you to remind you that there are people waiting for you back home.

The last thing he heard was the chime of your laughter before he opened his eyes to the sight of the ceiling.

The morning breeze wafts past him, as if that was you saying hello. The other side of the bed has been cold ever since you left, but instead of feeling empty, he feels warmer, better, and feels closer to you than ever even though you're not near him.

Ekko longs for you, like a parched tree longing for rain. But he's proud of you too for leaving and doing good work outside of Zaun and Piltover like you were meant to be. He wants to be with you, wake up to your face and voice, but he can wait, he'll wait for you to come home. And when you're ready to fly back home, he'll greet you with open arms.

He had an abundance of dreams about you before, but this one felt different, like sunshine peeking through a tree’s branches after hours of rain. Maybe that dream was real, that he really did talk to you and held you in his arms for hours on end. Or maybe that was his mind's way of coping with missing you so bad that he could feel your lack of presence wherever he went. Either way, it made him feel lighter, happier, and ready to write you a letter like always with the main topic being the heavenly dream he had. Wishing that it could be real someday, maybe sooner.

As he gets on his board, the letter tucked inside his pockets, he hovers above the tree, watching as the sky glimmers with the same sunlight you're probably gazing upon right now. With a deep sigh, brown eyes filled with unshed tears, he pats the place where you poked— right atop his heart. Whispering your name so it could be carried by the wind to be brought over to your ears. He smiles, imagining the day when you finally step foot on the very same land he learned to love you in.

#t h e m- <3333333

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x-reader-things · 2 months ago

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Green-Eyed Monster (Ezra Bridger / Reader)

Fandom: Star Wars

Pairing: Ezra Bridger/Reader

Summary:

“ Your one insecurity had always been that you were second to Sabine. Even when Ezra had disappeared all those years ago and your heart had painfully torn in two, you still felt second best. Ezra had left you a beautiful little message telling you he loved you for the first time before he had disappeared, yet Sabine had received one too. Even worse, Ahsoka had taken Sabine as an apprentice years ago instead of you though you both lacked an affinity for the force. Another insult your insecurities had twisted into a blade against you.

Now, ten years later, that jealousy had not dissipated. Instead, it had crossed with the horrible feeling of guilt.

While you had mourned Ezra’s death and moved on slowly, Sabine had never given up hope. She had remained on Lothal for years and always kept her ear out for news of Ezra. You had returned to your home planet and given up hope of ever finding your childhood sweetheart. Sabine had beat you yet again in seemingly being a better option for Ezra.”

Reader gets reunited with Ezra after ten years all while tormented by the thought that Sabine would be a better fit for him.

Warnings: Depictions of a panic attack. Spoilers for Ahsoka Season 1.

Word Count: 7,962

Expected Reading Time: 28:57

Jealousy. There’s a horrible feeling deep in your very bones that rakes a claw down your being. You can feel every deep gash clearly as you scowl at the bottom of your tea. Your fingers curl and uncurl against the handle of the mug as Sabine chatters with Ahsoka.

Huyang turns his mechanic head towards you from the pilot seat and Ahsoka glances your way as if sensing your turmoil from the force, but Sabine remains oblivious. Once more, everyone can sense your emotions except the very target of your ire. You bury your anger as you take a long sip of the tea and let the liquid burn your tongue.

It’s been ten years since you lost Ezra and you still can’t manage to reel in the jealousy you feel towards Sabine. She’s an old friend, someone you trust implicitly, and yet the ugly green eyed monster rears its head every time she’s near.

Ever since you were kids, you envied her. She was an old friend from your imperial academy days and seemed to be better than you even then. She was born to high ranked Mandalorian parents whereas you were born the youngest to farmers in a backwater planet. She climbed up high in the academy and won awards while you hid in her shadow and merely fulfilled requirements. She was scouted by Hera and the rebels while you simply tagged along for the ride.

And she was the person that Ezra originally had a crush on while you watched painfully from the sidelines.

Ten years ago, you had fallen in love with someone you thought you could never have. One Ezra Bridger had won you over and crushed your heart without meaning to. While you had pined for him in the background, he had pined over Sabine. You had watched it all happen while cursing yourself for yet again not being as great as her.

Even after a miracle had happened and Ezra’s sights had turned to you, you had still felt jealousy towards Sabine. While Ezra had reassured you that he liked you and made you his girlfriend, you had still harbored some resentment towards your oldest friend. There had always been a little voice inside your head that had taunted you with the knowledge that Ezra was only yours because Sabine hadn’t wanted him. That you had been a consolation prize and second best.

Your one insecurity had always been that you were second to Sabine. Even when Ezra had disappeared all those years ago and your heart had painfully torn in two, you still felt second best. Ezra had left you a beautiful little message telling you he loved you for the first time before he had disappeared, yet Sabine had received one too. Even worse, Ahsoka had taken Sabine as an apprentice years ago instead of you though you both lacked an affinity for the force. Another insult your insecurities had twisted into a blade against you.

Now, ten years later, that jealousy had not dissipated. Instead, it had crossed with the horrible feeling of guilt.

For years, she had tried to get you on her side. She had told you to not give up hope and to help her find Ezra, yet you had pushed her away. Your grief and heartache were easier to manage if you told yourself Ezra was gone for good. As much as it pained you, you gave up all hope and harshly rebuked Sabine for still clinging to the idea of him returning. Anything to kill the last shreds of hope that remained within you before time could do it for you.

You had, had a massive falling out and hadn’t spoken in years. Not until Hera had commed you with Ahsoka and told you to return to Lothal because of a lead Ahsoka had about Thrawn.

Thrawn, Hera claimed, was the key to finding Ezra. The two of them had disappeared together. If one of them was rumored to be alive, the other might be too.

You had come back to Lothal after much trepidation and reunited with Sabine. To her credit, she had accepted you back into her group even if things between you were awkward and strained.

Still, being back near her and reopening the wound of Ezra’s disappearance had brought back a decade worth of insecurity and envy.

The tea burns down your throat as you finish it off. You wish Ashoka had packed something stronger. Were you back home, you would have loved to drink until the edge wore off.

Stuck in a ship with Sabine though, you bite your lip.

It truly isn’t fair, you know. Sabine was your oldest friend. You had met at the imperial academy and struck a friendship. You both had joined the empire as a way to rise in rank for your families, and both had seen past the gilded veneer of fascism. Once upon a time, you two regarded each other as sisters and you made quite the trio with Ketsu-

But fate had driven a wedge between you. You had fallen for someone who liked Sabine at the time and always felt second best. That jealousy had torn you to shreds and created a wall between the two of you. You aren’t sure how to manage it and the thought stings.

The call of your name brings you out of your thoughts. Sabine remains unaware of the darkness coiling inside you and calls for you to look over something. She’s brought her research with her and has been pouring over diagrams that she thinks could help in the hunt for Ezra.

You wander over to her side and pretend to make sense of the mess of lines and circles she’s drawn on a holomap. Ahsoka eyes you wearily as Sabine talks and you suppress the urge to clench your fists.

“No, I’ve never seen this galaxy either,” you murmur. Your eyes don’t even gaze at the map Sabine is pointing at. Your mind is miles away running from you and the horrible pit in your stomach that grows with every second.

Guilt and jealousy swirl within you. You are angry. Furious even. Angry at Sabine for dragging you back in the hopes of finding a man you love that you’ve tried hard to get over. Angry at the force for tearing Ezra away from you-

And angry at yourself for yet again being weaker than Sabine.

Sabine had never given up. While you had run from Lothal and tried hard to forget your childhood sweetheart, Sabine had remained steadfast. It was she who had unlocked the map coordinates while you had stared at that damn ball for hours until your head hurt and your eyes had turned red. It was Sabine who could think of a million different ways to continue the hunt while you could barely keep yourself from screaming.

In every way that counted, in every Maker’s damned one sided competition, she had always been ahead.

“Can you read this for me-?“

Sabine reaches past you to click on a screen. Projections of documents appear before you all with the names of different galaxies and star maps. You clench your jaw as you notice all the notes she’s taken over each document. She’s been at it for years, no doubt, always searching. Never giving up. Unlike you-

The one person that should have never given up on Ezra. The one who had sworn to love him forever, the one who had dreamed of marrying him, the one who should have been fighting from the beginning to find him-

Ahsoka’s hand touches your shoulder. You turn your head and find her gaze on you.

“Perhaps Huyang should look over the information instead. He can process it faster,” Ahsoka tells Sabine.

Huyang accepts the assignment and takes the tablet from Sabine. Sabine hardly notices the way you glare in her direction.

“Are you feeling alright?” Ahsoka questions. Her tone is gentle yet firm. Concerned for your feelings yet weary of the darkness inside you.

Briefly, you remember Kanan and Ezra discussing the force. Mentioning how they could sometimes sense emotions and tell when people were struggling. You’re sure Ahsoka has noticed how you flicker between rage and heartbreak over and over again.

You aren’t sure whether you should apologize or thank her for interceding. Had she not stepped in, you think you might have snapped and started screaming at Sabine to leave you alone.

“Fine,” you whisper back.

You certainly don’t feel fine and the lie tastes bitter in your mouth, but you shrug away her arm. Murmuring something about needing a break, you move past the group and disappear into another room of the ship.

Huyang’s workshop is tidy and neatly organized. You take stock of every lightsaber piece as your fingers trace every groove and indent.

To add further insult to injury, you don’t have possession of Ezra’s lightsaber either. You had, had it once right after Lothal had been freed but had surrendered it to Sabine on Ahsoka’s suggestion. When Ahsoka had decided to train Sabine as a Jedi over you, you had silently handed over the last remnant of the boy you loved and stormed off broken and bitter.

The lightsaber pieces around you are each different. You don’t see anything that resembles Ezra’s pieces anywhere. After a while, you end up just sliding into an empty seat and your head falls into your hands.

Everything is utterly in disarray. Your mind races with a million thoughts and you’re sure your heart is a pile of jagged pieces each shattered beyond repair.

The truth of the matter is that you know your insecurities are right. Sabine is better than you. At everything.

Had she liked Ezra back years ago, he would have never looked in your direction. The bittersweet memories you had of dating him would have never happened. You would have never been chosen if his first choice hadn’t panned out. Ezra had tried once to tell you that it wasn’t true, that he had genuinely fallen for you and it had nothing to do with Sabine only seeing him as a brother, but you hadn’t believed him.

And now? Now she was definitely better than you.

You had given up. You had once promised Ezra to love him forever yet had believed him dead. You had left Lothal, the planet he had sacrificed everything to protect, and suppressed every memory of him. You had dated around in hopes of forgetting his ghost and tried hard to move on-

All while Sabine had never lost hope. She had always fought for him and looked everywhere. She had never once believed him gone. You had the obligation to search for him as his girlfriend, yet you had failed him. Had it not been for Sabine, Ezra would have been truly lost.

The thought makes you want to scream. You grit your teeth tightly until your jaw hurts. If you weren’t so indebted to Sabine for finding a lead, you think you’d want to swing at her. She’s always been better than you. Ezra should have just held out for her all along rather than taking you as a consolation prize.

Feeling suddenly like you’re suffocating, you slam your fist into the control panel to slide open the door. Sabine looks up as you enter and Ahsoka quietly moves to allow you to retake your old seat. You ignore them all as you slide into place and hover your fingers over the tablet.

You need a distraction. Anything to keep the terrible feelings at bay. You slam some keys down until the maps disappear and you’re staring at a blank slate.

Quietly, you bury yourself in your work all the while stewing and boiling with rage.

———————————————

Days later, Sabine’s determination beats you once more. Cornered by Baylan and Shin, you and Sabine are forced to make a choice on what to do. Ashoka is gone and the map is in Sabine’s possession. You two have to decide whether to turn it over to the very people Ahsoka wanted to keep it from or cling to the hope that Ezra can be found.

When Baylan promises to take you both to him, you hesitate. Ahsoka’s words play over and over again in your head. She has long been warning you about what will happen if Thrawn returns. You know she would want you to destroy the map and keep Thrawn in exile forever-

But what about Ezra? Will destroying the map strand him wherever he is forever too? Will you give up your last chance at ever finding him?

Your mind and your heart wage a war. You want desperately to see Ezra again but you remember his sacrifice. You know he’d want to protect the galaxy from the Empire. You don’t know what to do-

In the end, Sabine beats you to it. Better than you in every way, she hands over the map to Baylan. She accepts the terms for you both and tells you to drop your weapon with a calm, clear voice. You both hate her and feel grateful that she’s taken the choice out of your hands.

You let them cuff you and don’t even react when Shin uses the force to cut off your airway. Nothing she could possibly do could hurt more than the ugly feeling of being a disappointment. Once more, Sabine has proven herself a better fit for Ezra than you. Were he to ever find out that you hesitated on this choice, you think he’d leave you once and for all and realize that Sabine has always been better for him.

When you and Sabine face off Thrawn, you hardly pay attention. The villain that plagued you for years hasn’t changed much. His glowing red eyes sweep over you with mild boredom before he directs all his attention at Sabine. He seems genuinely unamused when he realizes Sabine has traded the galaxy for the hope of finding Ezra.

You feel a cold knife twist in your stomach and look away as Sabine faces Thrawn off. There is no hesitation or remorse in her gaze when she coldly tells Thrawn that he could never understand. You wince feeling guilty at the memory of your own hesitation.

It seems like Sabine is the only one completing this journey. When the two of you mount your steeds, it’s her who fights off the bandits. She moves like a lightning strike taking them down while you throw punches and kicks at random barely managing to take down one while she’s got the squad down in moments. When a Noti appears, it’s Sabine who realizes he’s wearing a Jedi symbol on his clothing.

You feel like a shadow merely following her around. Every new revelation and step closer to finding Ezra brings you both joy and envy.

Sabine feels like she’s better suited for the role of Ezra’s partner compared to you. She’s been loyal, determined, and fierce in his search. You, who had a responsibility to find him, had given up. Ezra deserved better than you.

By the time you make it back to Noti’s village, you feel the weight of your own soul crushing you. You feel painfully jealous, angry at yourself, and broken down. You try to ignore Sabine as she urges you forward telling you that something about this particular village feels different.

You’re so downtrodden that you don’t even realize someone is calling your name until you turn your head and hear Sabine’s breath hitch. Time seems to slow down as your eyes meet a striking blue that you haven’t seen in years. Your heart races and you move to run at Ezra-

When Sabine beats you to it.

She all but rushes past you to beat you to Ezra first. Ezra, half way to you, is interrupted as Sabine crashes into him. Her arms wrap around his frame and she buries her head into his neck. He looks like he wants to move to you for a brief moment before he hugs her back and greets her for the first time in ten years.

You hang back awkwardly watching the love of your life embrace someone else. Every hurtful thought you’ve ever heard about not deserving to be at Ezra’s side plays over and over again in your mind. Worse still, you are forced to see how good Sabine looks with Ezra. They click together like puzzle pieces and look perfect. Two halves of the same whole.

A coldness seeps into your very bones. You suppress the tears forming and grit your teeth painfully. If anything, Sabine deserves this moment. She’s the one who found Ezra. You don’t deserve him.

Despite the way it almost kills you to see Sabine steal your moment, you hang back. The ugly insecurities in you taunt and laugh as you watch them. You can’t escape the feeling that you’re an outsider looking in and intruding in a moment that you don’t deserve.

It feels like an eternity when the two of them finally separate. Sabine is smiling wide oblivious to your pain. Slowly, Ezra moves away from her and moves towards you instead. You force yourself to shove aside the familiar jealousy deciding that seeing Ezra again after a decade is worth more than the agony in your chest.

You meet Ezra halfway as he runs. Your own arms wrap around his frame and he all but picks you up to hold you close. He breathes out your name and you’re struck by how different he is.

Your hands shake as you press your palms to his face. He has a beard now, his cheeks are thin, no doubt from the lack of food, and there’s a certain maturity in his eyes that wasn’t there before-

But he’s Ezra.

Tears spill before you can stop them. His fingers wipe them away gently and his smile is bright. He says your name again like a sacred prayer.

“You’re alive,” you whisper. It’s the only sentence that you can form past the haze. Everything feels so surreal.

Ezra stands in front of you. The love of your life. The boy that had won you over ten years ago and never once let you go-

The one a part of you isn’t sure you deserve.

Ezra presses his forehead against yours. A familiar little habit he had back from when you were kids. A way to soothe you and reassure you that everything is going to be okay-

A sob breaks past your lips at the familiar action and you busy yourself burying your head in his chest. He holds you tighter to him. Underneath your palms, his heart races.

For a moment, every insecurity stops. The cold words you tell yourself over and over again in your head quiet for just this one moment. A sense of peace fills you and everything makes sense. For just a moment, all of the pain of the last decade goes away.

Ezra moves his head forward like he’s going to kiss you. He seems hesitant, unsure if he still has the right after a decade, and you want to meet him halfway-

But then Sabine interrupts the moment. She’s being herded by a Noti away and another one chirps out a different language to Ezra. You suddenly remember where you are you and draw back too fast. It feels maddening to separate from him after losing him for so long, but you think it’s better this way. It’s not like you deserve to kiss him after everything you’ve done.

The loss of him hurts like an open wound. You miss holding him. After ten years, you had given up hope of ever having that chance. It feels so cruel to lose it now-

And of course Sabine had to ruin this moment too. She’s always ruined everything for you. Perhaps she’s finally realized her feelings for Ezra and how better she is for him than you.

Your blood feels cold as you watch her grab his arm. She links their arms together and begins speaking. He gives you one last look over his shoulder before a Noti grabs your own arm to tug you forward. You are forced to trail after them feeling like a third wheel among their partnership. Something you’ve tended to always feel when the three of you are together.

They form a good team. It looks entirely natural for the two of them to be together. Sabine just makes sense at his side. She’s saved him after you’d given up, always been beside him throughout your time together as members of the Ghost, and was the first person he was ever interested in. It makes perfect sense for her to be the one with him.

A painful lump forms in your throat and you wave away the Noti’s concern when it curiously looks up at you. You trail silently through the village as Ezra begins to explain everything.

He tells you and Sabine pieces of his time here. He tells you how he and Thrawn made it here, how he ran from Thrawn and found the Noti by chance, and how he’s spent time with them since. They’re a peaceful people and have welcomed him into their ranks. He accompanies them on their travels, but he’s ready to come home.

He smiles at you both as he thanks you for coming back for him. He can’t wait to return to your galaxy and see Hera, Zeb, and Chopper.

Guilt grips you tightly. You don’t have the courage to admit that you had thought him lost. Had it not been for Sabine, he would have remained on this forsaken planet forever.

A coward to the end, you bite your tongue and hesitate at his words. When Ezra tries to move towards you, hand shyly reaching for your own, you move away as if his touch burns. You don’t think you deserve his gratefulness. Not with how awful you’ve been all these years.

It’s almost a relief when Sabine takes over. As much as it pains you to see her slowly replace you, you know you deserve it.

Before Ezra can ask you what’s wrong, you turn away and pretend to be busy with a Noti who is patching up something to the far side of the village. You turn your back on Sabine and Ezra and remain rigid as they walk away. Ezra keeps glancing back at you from time to time while Sabine urges him along to discuss things with him.

By the time they’re finally gone, you wander off further from the village and then promptly bury your head in your hands. The last of your strength leaves you and you sink to the ground below. The pain you’ve been suppressing returns in waves and you give in to the horrible voices that tell you what a terrible person you are and how you don’t deserve Ezra.

———————————————

By the time the sun sets, you’re a ticking time bomb. You’ve spent a long time wallowing in self pity. Everything aches as you make the trek back to the village.

The Noti are tiny, so it’s not hard to spot Sabine and Ezra. Ezra is holding something by the fire while Sabine messes with her vambrace. She seemingly hasn’t told Ezra about how the two of you are stuck here and how Ahsoka is dead.

When you get back, both of their attention is turned towards you. Ezra lights up and waves you over. He means to let you sit with them, but you quickly note that there’s no room. The Noti are half your size and don’t use large spaces. The log Ezra and Sabine sit at is out of room. You have no place beside Ezra with Sabine there.

Suppressing a grimace, you elect to remain standing.

“What are you two up to?” You ask. Your voice sounds colder than you intended, bitter.

Ezra looks at you and you evade his gaze. There’s something deep in his eyes that you don’t want to dwell too long on. He looks like he doesn’t quite know what to make of you. You have a feeling you aren’t who he remembers.

Good.

Maybe if he no longer recognizes you, he can give you a clean break. It’s become very apparent that you no longer belong at his side. Perhaps if he realizes he made a mistake in choosing you once upon a time, he can find someone better. The sooner he moves on the sooner you can kill what’s left of your broken heart.

Sabine is the one who answers. You’re quite frankly sick of her by then.

“I was telling Ezra everything’s that’s happened since he’s been gone. The Empire, Lothal, everything,” she responds.

Ezra awkwardly nods at her words. You feel a pit form in your stomach. Idly you wonder if Sabine has told Ezra how terrible you’ve been. Wonder if he knows you had given up on the hope of ever seeing him and tried to move on. Is that why he can’t seem to look at you anymore?

Anger and pain throb in your chest. You squeeze your jaw together.

The rest of the night passes far too quickly. Ezra and Sabine chat until the embers of the fire die down. You respond only when necessary and keep your remarks short.

Every once in a while, you think you see Ezra stealing glances at you but you ignore him. It feels like you’re having a terrible out of body experience. You’re so close to him, finally after mourning him for a decade, yet you know you have no right to rejoice at finding him. The guilt and jealousy you feel outweigh everything else.

It’s a mercy when the Noti begin to prepare to sleep. They offer the perfect excuse for the night to finally come to a close.

Ezra stands up and runs a hand through his hair.

“I sleep in the big room over there. It’s as human sized as you can get here. You both look exhausted. The journey here couldn’t have been easy. Why don’t you both take it? It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve slept outside with the Noti,” Ezra offers.

“We can’t take your place-“

“I insist,” Ezra interrupts Sabine, “I’m used to camping out. The Noti constantly move from place to place seeking shelter so sometimes we have to rough it on the ground. It’s nothing unusual. You both can take it.”

Sabine glances at you with a nod of her head.

“Is that alright with you? You wanna share that tent with

me?” She asks.

Both Ezra and Sabine seem to be very interested in your answer. Ezra searches your face for something. You think there’s a question he’s longing to ask, something he’s dying to know, but he can’t bring himself to say it. It seems like he’s too afraid of whatever he thinks he’ll find or won’t find.

Truthfully, you don’t have the patience to speculate on what the two of them are trying to find out. It’s been a long day and you’ve suffered enough already.

You shrug, “Fine.”

A one word response. Sabine blinks and Ezra winces. There’s almost a flash of pain in his gaze before he looks away. You highly suspect that whatever test has just transpired, you’ve failed.

Sabine shares a glance with Ezra. You try to ignore the way the knife in your heart twists to see them communicate silently. Years apart and yet they seem to still know each other well enough to talk through simple glances and looks.

It’s all too much. You spin on your heel and march off mumbling some excuse about being exhausted.

Inside the metal tent, you close your eyes and count to ten. There’s a roar in your ears and a headache forming at the very back of your skull. You aren’t sure how much more this you can take. Already, it feels like you’re hitting a boiling point.

Everything feels terrible. The jealousy, the heartbreak, the anger, the guilt. All of it is becoming too much.

By the time Sabine returns, you’re at your limit. You don’t even flinch when she waves a hand in front of your face to test if you’re paying attention.

“What’s wrong?” She sounds concerned as she peers down at you, “You’ve been out of it all day. I thought you’d be really happy. I mean, we found Ezra-“

A scoff breaks out before you can stop it. You hate that she’s using the word “we.”There is no “we” here. It’s all her. It’s always been her. She’s the hero who saved Ezra. You’re the terrible ex girlfriend that abandoned him.

“I’m just tired,” you shrug. It’s a weak lie. She doesn’t seem to buy it as she presses you more.

“You’re not acting okay. I didn’t think you’d want to share a room with me. I thought you’d make an excuse to get out of it.”

Your eyes roll. She stops and stares at you as if finally realizing just how angry you are.

By now, the pain is cooling to anger. There’s a rage vibrating deep within you towards her. You’d love nothing more than to shut her up once and for all.

She calls your name with a frown. Concern and frustration are evident in her face.

“Seriously, is everything okay? Ezra wanted you to stay with him outside. He was waiting for you to ask to stay with him-“

“Well, didn’t you want to stay with him? You should have volunteered,” you tug angrily at your jacket. The fury is burning you from the inside. You feel like a star about to combust. It takes all of your strength to remain composed.

Sabine has the gall to look confused. She makes a face like she doesn’t get it. You aren’t sure whether she’s being coy or if she’s just dying to hear you spell it out to her.

“What are you talking about?” She moves to grab your arm. Perhaps she wants you to face her and explain why you’re suddenly so angry, “You hurt him, you know. He doesn’t know where he stands with you. You haven’t spoken to him or made a move. He’s scared you’ve moved on-“

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll comfort him. You’ve been much better for him than me,” you bite.

Again, there’s a moment of confusion. By now, Sabine herself is growing frustrated with your attitude. It seems she can’t wrap her head around why you’re so upset.

“What is wrong with you? Seriously. You finally get Ezra back and you just ice him out-“

Something snaps. The anger you’ve been suppressing spills forward like a dam. Before you can even think about what you’re doing, you’re shoving her as hard as you can away from you. There’s a sense of satisfaction in the way you take her by surprise. She’s much stronger than you, yet you manage to make her slam into the metal walls. Her armor makes a satisfying thud when it collides against them.

“Oh, shut up, Sabine!”

You move to shove her again, rage boiling over.

It’s all too much. Every negative emotion you’ve been feeling since Sabine unlocked the map where you failed has spilled over. You feel like a bomb exploding. You aren’t a violent person, yet you find yourself pushing her again.

This time, she’s ready for you. Her eyes are wide and there’s shock in her voice when she calls your name. She grabs your wrist and twists you around until she’s holding your arms in place. A move you had only ever seen her do on stormtroopers.

“Maker, what’s wrong-?”

Her voice trails off in shock as you shove off her hold. You press your hands to your face feeling adrenaline course through your veins. It burns white hot against your skin. You swear you feel your blood boiling.

“Do you know how sick I am of you?” You jab a finger at the center of her chest plate, “You just have to rub everything in. I get it, alright? I get that you’re better than me. You have always been better at everything. I never stood a chance.”

You back away from her suddenly feeling like you’re boxed in. The anger is coursing red hot but there’s something else there. It’s all consuming and harsh. You feel it practically strangling you.

While you are threatened by Sabine’s presence, some part of you knows it’s not just her that’s causing this outburst. Really, it’s more than that. A part of you is just angry with yourself.

It’s yourself you despise. Had it not been for Sabine, Ezra would have been stuck here forever. You had given up on ever finding him. For all your promises of loving him years ago, you had simply given up. He would have never have given up on you.

Spinning around, you press your fists against your eyelids to try and stop the tears forming behind your eyes.

“You found him. I gave up on him,” you whisper. It’s a harsh admission out loud, “You’re better than me. He deserves better. He deserves you.”

Sabine is stunned. She blinks and makes a face like she can’t believe what you just said. You don’t have it in you to explain. The anger is slowly becoming despair. You want nothing more than to just curl up into a ball and die.

“What? I-Do you-Is that what this is about? You think I have feelings for Ezra?” She takes you by the shoulders and holds you steady.

You’re shaking, you realize. Your hands are quivering and your breath is coming out in short pants. A panic attack.

“Don’t you?” You bite the inside of your cheek to quell the rising panic. Your chest feels too tight. It constricts against your clothing, “It’s okay if you do. He’s always liked you. You could make him happier. You didn’t give up on him like I did.”

It hurts to say everything out loud. You don’t think you could survive seeing Sabine with Ezra. It would break whatever remnants of your heart are still working, but you wouldn’t stand in their way. Ezra deserves to be happy and you’re not the person that can give that to him. If Sabine can, then she should. It would break you, but you deserve it. An atonement for your sins.

Sabine calls out your name. She pulls your arms away from your face and shakes her head firmly. She looks stunned and hurt. She’s hurt by your words.

“I don’t like Ezra romantically. He’s a brother to me. That’s it. He loves you-“

You close your eyes against the rising panic. It takes all your willpower to remember how to breathe. It feels like something has gotten a hold of your body. You feel everything mounting until it bursts. Emotions and words pour out of you. You aren’t sure just what you’re saying. Everything feels like it’s happening far away.

“He had a crush on you first. He didn’t even look at me until he realized you weren’t interested. I always knew I was his second choice. I was always so angry with you. You two spent so much time together. I was always just counting the days until he left me for you. You two just fit together. Ten years later and you two can just go back to being close. I don’t know how I could ever face him knowing that I gave up-“

The feeling of choking returns. You press your hand to your chest feeling like your lungs will give out. There’s a painful squeeze to your heart. Is this what a heart attack feels like-?

Suddenly someone is taking you gently by the shoulders. Familiar hands press against your face cradling you softly. You hear your name whispered in a low voice. You know who it is without even opening your eyes.

Ezra.

“Hey, breathe. Breathe with me,” he whispers. He shows you some deep breaths. His arms hold you in place firmly but not tightly. It’s his way of showing you that he’s here. That you’re not alone.

Slowly you try and copy his breaths. It’s a struggle to do it. It feels like every painful gasp of air you inhale rattles against your lungs. It takes much longer than it should to finally regulate your breathing.

By the time the panic attack is finally underway, you feel exhausted. There’s a heaviness to your body you haven’t felt in a while. You’re shaking as Ezra slowly moves you towards a makeshift bed. He eases you gently into a sitting position. Idly, you realize that Sabine is inching out of the encampment probably wanting to give you and Ezra space to talk.

“Are you okay? Do you need water? A blanket?” Ezra kneels to be eye level with you. His eyes are concerned, scared for you.

It’s not fair. He’s the one who’s been lost for ten years, yet here he is worried about you. You don’t deserve him.

That’s what finally does you in. You begin to sob and press your hands firmly to your face. The tears pour out of you. It’s been a long ten years. Everything just shatters.

In the last decade, you’ve cried more times than you want to admit. Grief has been a friend for ages. You’ve cried until you had nothing more to give, yet this breakdown feels different. There’s a war or emotions pouring out of you. Anger, grief, jealousy, insecurity, pain. They rush over you in waves to the point where you feel like you’re being physically crushed under the weight of them.

Ezra wraps his arms around you and lets you cry against his shoulder. He holds you firmly in place whispering words of encouragement. You don’t deserve it. You weakly fight against his hold.

Words spill forth in a whisper before you even realize half of what you’re saying. There’s just a frantic need to pour everything out. The admissions slip from your tongue without truly registering in your brain. You just need him to understand why he should hate you.

“I gave up on ever finding you. I spent an entire year unable to get out of bed. I couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, and couldn’t think. Every little thing reminded me of you. I thought I was going to go insane. Everyone was worried about me. Hera had just had Jacen, yet she was taking care of me instead of her newborn. It felt horrible to worry everyone. At some point, I just had to let you go. I told myself you were dead and mourned you. I needed the closure so I gave up. If you were gone forever, then I could slowly move forward. I didn’t want to but it was breaking me. Thinking that you were out here somewhere was driving me insane.”

Ezra holds you tighter at your admission. You’re not sure but you swear you think you can hear him say he’s sorry. It’s heartbreaking for him to apologize. He’s the one that you’ve wronged.

“I couldn’t move on from you. I tried dating again a few years after you were gone but never made it past the first or second date. Everyone was all wrong. They just weren’t you. I kept telling myself that you were gone and that I should move on, but I couldn’t. I was driving myself crazy with grief. I even had a falling out with Sabine. Sabine kept searching for you. She never stopped. She’s the one who found you. Had it not been for her, you would have been lost forever. She’s better than me. You deserve better,” you force yourself to look at his eyes and are shocked when you see that he’s crying too. You never meant to hurt him but the confessions keep pouring out, “I know you liked her first. You only started dating me because she didn’t like you back. I told myself all these years that, that was okay. I loved you enough to be your second choice. Then these last ten years happened and they made me realize that I don’t deserve you. I gave up on you. She didn’t. She-you both make perfect sense. You just click with each other. She’s a better choice for you. I love you, but I know you’d be happier with her. She was your first choice after all.”

Now that everything is out, you feel tired. You bury your face in his shoulder and feel the way his heart is racing. His body feels tense as he lets all your words sink in.

“What? Do you think I like Sabine?” He sounds stunned. Gently, he pulls you away so that he can look at your eyes.

His eyes are red and there’s tears running down his face. He looks heartbroken. He calls your name softly and his voice cracks.

“You’re not my second choice, Maker. I’ve loved you for over a decade. It’s always been you. I admired Sabine when we were kids, but I always saw her as a sister. That’s all she is. You’re the one I’ve loved all these years. I dreamt of you every night, I tried using the force to find you whenever I meditated, the thought of you has kept me going all these years. It’s you that kept me alive. Any time I wanted to give up, I remembered you and everyone else back home and that kept me going. You were never my second choice. You’ve always been my only love. Always,” his fingers wipe away your tears and his breath stutters, “I thought you’d moved on. You didn’t want to spend time around me. You pulled away when I tried to kiss you. I thought you didn’t care me for me anymore. I was going to accept that. It’s been ten years. You didn’t know I was still alive. If you had moved on and married someone else, I would have never held it against you. Don’t blame yourself for needing to move forward.”

“You wouldn’t have given up on me. Ezra, you would have been lost without Sabine. I thought you were gone.”

You squeeze your eyes shut. Ezra would have never given up hope. He would have kept searching until the very end. You didn’t.

His hold on you tightens.

“Ten years. I was gone for ten years. I don’t blame you for thinking I was dead. Maker, the ship had lost its airlock. I thought I was going to die when we hit hyperspace. You had no way of knowing I was alive. Sabine said you all only thought I was still alive when Ahsoka heard rumors about Thrawn returning. There’s no way anyone could have predicted I was in another galaxy,” he says.

You keep your eyes closed.

The rumors about Thrawn’s return are what had made this entire search possible. You had dropped everything when Hera and Ahsoka had commed you and rushed back to help the search. Sabine was steps ahead of you which hurts to admit, but you had rushed back to help.

Wearily, you think of everything you’ve done so far.

You think of how Ahsoka refused to train you in favor of Sabine because she said you were ‘too attached’ to be open to the force. You think of how you couldn’t open the map and had spent hours turning it every which way until your fingers had cramped and bled trying to pry it open. You remember that terrible moment where Shin and Baylan had you cornered, how they had offered you and Sabine passage to Ezra in exchange for the map. Logic would have had you destroy the map and prevent Thrawn from ever returning. Ahsoka would have wanted it that way, yet you had hesitated too. Your brain had said you needed to destroy it, but your heart had frozen. Destroying it meant never finding Ezra. You had let Sabine take over on that choice and hadn’t protested when she handed the map over. You’re sure now you would have made the same choice albeit not as fast as her.

As if sensing where your thoughts are going, Ezra places his forehead to yours. His way for reassuring you.

“I don’t blame you for anything. I’m sorry I hurt you all these years. If you’ve moved on, I get it. Just please don’t feel guilty you had to think I was dead to survive. Forgive yourself,” he urges.

You snap your eyes open startled.

“Ezra, I’ve never moved on. I love you. I have for all these years. I was just too guilty to express it. Sabine found you. I gave up. You deserve better. The two of you could-“

Suddenly Ezra dives forward. His lips press to yours and he holds you in place tightly. You make a sound of surprise before giving in.

It feels like something between you clicks. The world stops and everything feels so natural as you kiss him back. It’s been ten years since you’ve last been able to hold him. You don’t think you can survive another ten without him. You barely made it through these last few years.

He feels like home. After all the suffering and the self loathing, kissing him feels like everything is falling into place.

After a long kiss that takes your breath away, he withdraws. His breath is a harsh pant. His beard tickles your face as he presses smaller kisses to your forehead and cheeks. You cling to him tighter and take in the feeling of being in his arms again.

“I love you,” he breathes out, “It’s only ever been you. Please don’t say you don’t deserve me. You kept me alive all these years. It’s always been you.”

The last of your energy snaps. You feel so painfully exhausted. You cling to him tightly and let him move you back to the bed. He climbs in next to you and holds you to him as if he’s afraid to let you go.

Everything you’ve been through today makes you feel so tired. You want nothing more than to go to sleep and come back to this tomorrow. You don’t have the energy to keep going today.

Thankfully, Ezra doesn’t withdraw. Instead, he climbs into the bed next to you and holds you close. All of those terrible voices in your head quiet when he presses another kiss to your forehead.

You close your eyes feeling everything fading. The two of you aren’t done discussing this. He still needs to know that you love him too and that you are sorry for everything that’s happened. You also will have to apologize to Sabine tomorrow. It’s not her fault your own insecurities turned against her.

Still, for now, this moment feels like peace.

You curl into his arms and hold him tight the way you used to when you were young. He holds you to him and refuses to let you go. In a low whisper, you tell him you love him. As you drift off, you hear him say it back.

And for the first time in ten years, you finally feel a semblance of peace.

#reblogging this again #hi I miss Ezra Bridger-#<33333 #m a n-#< / 3

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x-reader-things · 2 months ago

Text

Haven’t read a Keith Kogane x reader fanfic in SO L O N G, oml-

This was so- <33333

Did I tear up a few times?? Yes, yes I definitely did-

I love the way it was also all of the paladins and Keith’s love for the reader too!!

Platonic and Romantic relationships my beloveds- <33333

ripped / k. kogane

keith kogane x reader

summary: you lost something of great importance of you during a mission. it may seem trivial, but then why is it ripping you from the iside out? a/n: this is my first time writing for keith. but i've been in love with him since i was 13, which is crazy. i remember i discovered the 1975 (which is now part of my personality) thanks to a keith kogane fanfiction on wattpad. not proofread. 5.9k words. no use of y/n.

You didn’t say a word on the way back.

Not when the mission ended. Not when the comms fizzled out, and you gave the signal for pickup. Not when Keith called your name—twice, softly, then louder—but you turned your back to him and faced the cargo wall instead.

He didn’t push. He never did when you shut down like this. His instinct was always to observe first, wait until you were ready. That was one of the things that made being with Keith… easy, even in the middle of war. He never asked you to be stronger than you were.

But right now, you wished someone would ask. Demand it of you. Then maybe, you would feel better about it. I wasn’t like you lost an arm or a leg. You walked away unscathed. But then, why did it feel like a part of you had been ripped away?

When you entered the meeting room, everyone was already there. Of course they were, you had to stay back for a moment, regain your strength for what was coming.

The room was cold. Not physically — the Castle’s systems regulated temperature perfectly — but emotionally. Sterile. Bright. Clinical.

Shiro stood tall, poised and commanding as always. Lance tried to make a joke the moment you entered, something about how you were going without dinner tonight due to losing your race. You didn’t laugh.

Your report had been sent in through the team channel, dry and factual. You’d completed the mission. Escaped. Neutralized the threat. But even as Allura outlined the results, there was a tension in the air. A current. Something everyone felt but didn’t understand

After a moment, she congratulated you on a successful mission. That was brief, however, for not a moment later she was already projecting a map of the next galaxy. You weren’t sure exactly what for, everything was muffled and distant.

“You alright?” Keith whispered next to you. You felt his hand secretly reaching out for yours, but as if it carried electricity, yours flinched away immediately.

He was hurt by this, you could tell by how his head sharply turned to look at you, his brow furrowed in concern. He was trying to make out your expression, but he couldn’t not with your helmet still on.

Allura turned to you, you could tell she knew something was wrong. “Paladin. Is there anything you’d like to report?”

You didn’t answer.

Your breath echoed faintly inside your helmet, each inhale shallow and too loud in your ears. Everyone was waiting, eyes on you now. You could feel it. The room felt too small.

“Paladin?” Allura prompted again, her voice gentler this time. Not as a commander, but as someone who knew now something was incredibly wrong.

Still, you said nothing.

Instead, with slow, deliberate hands, you reached up for your helmet, which came off with a sharp hiss.

You lifted it off, carefully, like if you made the wrong motion, you might shatter.

The air hit your skin.

And then they saw.

The sharp inhale was audible.

Your hair—your long, memory-woven hair—was gone. Cropped close in uneven layers. Frayed, burned at the ends. A choppy, desperate cut.

The beads were gone too. Dozens of them—each one added in remembrance. Each one a story. A piece of your soul.

You’d worn your hair like a tapestry of your people. You were known for it—thick, lustrous, flowing past your waist, decorated with vibrant beads to honor the fallen, to carry their memory forward. In your culture, hair was sacred. It was said to hold memories. Spirit. When someone passed, you wove their bead into your strands so they could journey with you.

Now… now you were empty.

A single tear slipped down your cheek, trailing silently over the grime and ash that clung to your skin.

That was the only crack in your armor. The only sign that inside, you were screaming.

No one spoke.

Pidge’s eyes widened, mouth slightly parted in shock.

Hunk’s expression crumbled instantly.

Lance’s joke died completely on his lips. He looked stricken. Like the ground had shifted beneath him.

Shiro stepped forward—but only a fraction. His brows knit in quiet sorrow, like he was watching a soldier relive a battlefield.

And Allura—

Allura understood first.

You saw it in the soft parting of her lips, the subtle tremble in her voice when she whispered, “Your hair…”

It wasn’t vanity. It was history. It was grief and blood and names woven into each strand.

“I had to,” you said, finally. Voice hollow.

You faintly heard Allura whisper your name as she stepped down and went to comfort you.

“He grabbed me,” you said next, your voice now coming back to you. As if up until this moment you had been on autopilot, and now, with Allura’s hands softly holding on to your elbow, you had been brought back to reality. “He wouldn’t let go, and he was pulling me toward—” your voice broke.

You remembered the fire, how the flames had drawn closer and closer as you thrashed against the Galran soldier’s hold. The smoke clawing into your lungs. The burn of the heat licking at your boots.

“I could feel it,” you whispered, shaking your head slowly. “The heat. It was right there. I saw it—my hair—starting to catch. Just the ends, but—”

Your voice cracked, and suddenly it was like it wasn’t just memory anymore. It was happening again.

“I—I didn’t even cut it clean. It just ripped.” You looked up, finally meeting their eyes. “Some of it fell in. Into the fire.”

That’s when it hit.

Not just the grief. Not just the shock.

The loss.

The kind that hollowed you out from the inside.

Your knees buckled. You dropped your helmet to the floor with a dull clang, and Keith caught you before you hit your knees.

You didn’t mean to cry.

But the sob that tore from your throat was raw and unfiltered, full of every unspoken goodbye that had burned in that fire.

“My family was in there,” you gasped, barely audible.

You couldn’t stop the way your body shook—grief like a tide pulling you under, dragging you deeper with every crashing wave.

Keith held you like he could keep you tethered to the surface.

He didn’t flinch at your weight. Didn’t hesitate for a second when you broke apart in his arms. His voice was in your ear—quiet, grounding murmurs, like he was trying to stitch you back together one word at a time. But it sounded far away, drowned out by the millions of voices you had lost.

You barely registered Shiro’s hand on your shoulder, steady and warm. Or the way Allura knelt beside you, gently brushing some of the ash-matted strands from your forehead.

“Let’s get you out of here,” Shiro said softly. “Come on. You don’t have to be strong right now.”

You nodded, though you weren’t sure you could walk.

Keith helped you to your feet, never letting go. Your legs were trembling—rubbery and weak, like they no longer belonged to you—but between the three of them, you didn’t fall again. Shiro braced one side. Allura the other. And Keith stayed pressed to your back, arms never straying far in case you slipped again.

The rest of the team made space without a word.

The walk to your room felt longer than it was. A walk of shame.

When the door slid open, you hesitated on the threshold.

This was your room.

But you didn’t feel the same.

Like the part of you who used to live here, was still out there, stuck in the fire.

Keith noticed your hesitation. “I’ll stay with you.”

You didn’t even nod. Just stepped in, and he followed behind you without asking.

Allura touched your arm. “We’ll give you space. But we’re right here if you need anything.”

You didn’t have the strength to say thank you. But the way your eyes flicked to her said enough.

Then the door hissed shut behind them.

You didn’t know what to do. You stood there for a long moment, afraid that attempting to take a step in any direction would make you crumble again.

Your head raced with thoughts. What were you supposed to do now? Everything seemed pointless and futile. Everything but, just standing there. Maybe if you didn’t move ever again, you wouldn’t feel the weightlessness that now clung to you like a ghost.

Wash your face?

You imagined the water running through your hands—cold, clean, normal—and recoiled at the thought. You didn’t want to see your face in the mirror. Not with your hair like this. Not when you looked like someone else. Not when your reflection would only ask the same questions you didn’t have answers to.

Change out of your armor?

But your armor was the only thing still on you that hadn’t burned. The only thing still whole. Without it, you'd just be a silhouette. Empty fabric. No weight.

Lie down?

Your bed looked too soft. Like it would swallow you if you touched it. And what would you even do there—close your eyes and pretend this hadn’t happened? The second you tried to rest, you knew your mind would replay it all. The fire. The tearing. The smoke.

You shifted on your feet, arms stiff at your sides.

None of it made sense anymore. Not your routine. Not the comfort objects in your room. Not the beads that used to hang above your headboard—they weren’t there. You’d taken them down days ago to add more, and never had the chance. Now there was nothing. Just bare string. Mocking you.

Keith hadn’t said anything. He stood a few steps behind you, unmoving, like he knew you needed space to let the panic settle. But he was watching—carefully. Quietly.

You didn’t cry again. You couldn’t. You were past that now. Wrung dry.

But your breath kept catching in your chest in that uneven way. Like your body was trying to remember how to exist with the hole that had been carved out of you.

Keith stepped forward once.

You didn’t react.

Then again, slowly. He didn’t reach for you this time. Didn’t try to hold you or say something that would only echo off the walls of your detachment. Instead, his hand gently ghosted past yours and landed lightly at the small of your back.

Not pressure.

Just presence.

And that, somehow, was worse. It made the ache deeper. Realer.

Your shoulders sank. You didn’t want to move—but you also couldn’t stay standing. Your body was catching up to the exhaustion your mind had been trying to outrun.

He felt it. The way you started to sway. The way your weight shifted, not with intention, but surrender.

Keith didn’t speak. He just guided.

Slowly, he led you to the bed. One step at a time. Not rushed, not forceful. When your knees touched the edge of the mattress, you stopped again.

He gave you time.

And when you sat—mechanically, like it wasn’t even a decision you made—he knelt in front of you, hands still careful and light as if you might shatter on contact.

You stared past him, eyes glassy and unfocused. Then, finally, you sank down sideways, lying on your side atop the blankets, still in armor, still dusty and singed and stiff. You didn’t care.

You didn’t say a word.

Keith didn’t either.

He sat at the edge of the bed beside you, one hand resting lightly near yours, not quite touching.

Minutes passed. Maybe hours.

Your eyes stayed open. Blinking slowly. Chest rising and falling with a shallow rhythm.

And Keith stayed there, quiet and grounded, like he knew this wasn’t something he could fix. He wasn’t trying to. He was just… here.

He looked at you only when he thought you wouldn’t notice.

You did. And you stared back.

The castle felt quieter lately.

Not in the way it powered down during travel, or in the way voices hushed before missions. This was a different quiet. One that settled between the walls like dust—unnoticed by most, but heavy all the same.

You hadn’t said much since that night. You answered when spoken to. Ate enough not to raise concern. Trained, but not like before. You moved like your body had weight, but no momentum.

And always, after lights-out, you disappeared to the observatory deck.

Alone.

Tonight was no different.

You sat by the curved window in a tucked-away alcove, knees pulled loosely to your chest, armor swapped out for a simple pajama. The stars shimmered outside, scattered like the beads that used to line your hair.

You traced your fingers over the cropped ends again. They still felt foreign. The edges rough, not yet healed. It had grown a fraction already, but it made you feel worse. Like every inch of regrowth only reminded you how much was gone.

You had stopped crying. But that didn’t mean the ache was gone. It had just gone deeper. Quieter.

You told yourself you were being ridiculous.

Because it was just hair.

Just hair.

Not an arm like Shiro.

Not a family like Pidge.

Not a voice that once belonged to a home.

But every time your mind circled back to the loss, to the weight in your chest, a fresh wave of guilt followed.

You were mourning hair.

You were the last of your people.

The last to carry the sacred tradition of beads woven into memory.

The last to bear witness.

And yet… here you were. Grieving strands of keratin. Beads. Memory tokens.

You tried to push the grief down.

Everyone here had scars heavier than yours, traumas stitched into their bones.

You felt guilty for mourning. Like you were taking up space in the pain room that someone else needed more.

A whisper of movement behind you made you stiffen.

You didn’t look up.

Allura’s voice followed, soft and deliberate. “You shouldn’t be alone every night.”

You didn’t answer.

She didn’t ask to sit—just joined you, her legs folding gracefully beneath her, gaze out toward the stars.

Neither of you spoke for a while.

Eventually, she asked, “Do you know what we did with hair on Altea?”

You blinked, surprised.

“I—I assume it was similar to my home. Symbolic.”

She smiled faintly. “It was more than that. Like your people, we believed hair was sacred. A physical connection to memory. When someone passed, their hair was kept by their closest kin. Not hidden away—but braided into ceremonial ribbons. Worn when the time came to remember them.”

Your throat tightened.

“I keep thinking,” you said hoarsely, “that I should be over it.”

Allura turned, eyebrows gently lifting.

“It was just hair.”

Her gaze didn’t soften.

“No,” she said. “It wasn’t. And you know that.”

You looked away again. “But it wasn’t an arm. Or a home planet. Or a family.”

“It was your family,” Allura said firmly. “The way you carried them. The way you honored them. Those beads… they were your history. You didn’t just lose strands. You lost a tether.”

You bit your lip, eyes stinging. She wasn’t coddling you. She was telling the truth. And somehow, that hurt more than anything else had these past few days.

“I feel so empty,” you admitted, voice barely there.

“You are mourning,” Allura replied. “Not the way others have. Not for the same things. But what you lost mattered.”

You stayed quiet, but the shaking of your shoulders betrayed you.

Allura reached out slowly, brushing a piece of your short hair behind your ear. Her touch lingered, not to fix you, but to ground you.

“When your heart breaks,” she said softly, “the pieces don’t care how big the reason was. They fall just the same.”

You leaned your forehead to the glass, breathing in shaky gulps.

“I don’t know how to carry them anymore,” you whispered. “The ones I lost.”

Allura’s voice was calm. “You already are.”

Days started blurring into each other as you tried to get back to your normal routine.

Everything felt like a drag. The most miniscule of tasks often taking the longest.

However, there was a constant in your life. A steady unwavering presence, keeping you anchored — Keith.

He never asked. He never forced conversation. Sometimes he simply sat across the room, tracing constellations on the wall with a finger or sharpening his knives, letting silence fill the space between you

He didn’t crowd you with words or demands. Instead, he stayed quiet, steady—like the ground beneath your feet when the world threatened to spin out of control.

He was there when you woke, when you stared blankly at your reflection, when your fingers absentmindedly traced the ragged edges of your hair.

He was there when you sat on the balcony, shoulders tight, eyes hollow..

You knew he meant well.

Keith always did.

But the way he lingered in doorways, the way he subtly followed you when you wandered too far from the main halls, the way he kept glancing at you when you took too long to answer a question—it all built up like pressure behind your ribs.

Like everyone was walking on glass around you.

Like you were glass.

And for what? For hair? For something so stupid?

You couldn’t even get through a workout without someone checking if you were overdoing it. Or see a hallway conversation quiet down when you walked past. Everyone tiptoeing around your grief like it was something delicate, when all it felt like was rage.

It happened in the training deck.

You missed a shot, something you normally would’ve brushed off with a grunt and a quip.

But Keith stepped closer instead. Not saying anything—just hovering, brows drawn in concern.

And you snapped.

“What?” you barked.

He froze.

“I didn’t—”

You turned around sharply, your blade retracting as you did. “You didn’t have to, I can feel it. You hover over me, like I’m a porcelain doll. Like I’ll break at any moment.”

Keith’s mouth opened slightly. He didn't speak. You didn’t let him.

“But I won’t, okay? Not over this ridiculous, pointless thing that doesn’t even matter.”

Your eyes were burning.

He took a step forward. You took a step back.

You felt like a bomb, something that would explode at any moment. And your better judgement told you that Keith should not be collateral damage. So you pushed him away.

“Just stop looking at me like that,” you hissed, voice trembling.

“Like what?” His voice was low and steady.

“Like I’m fragile. Like you’re waiting for me to crack open.”

Keith didn’t move. His eyes searched yours, but you couldn’t tell what for. Answers? Patience? Understanding?

You hated it.

You hated how still he was. How gentle he was.

Because it made you feel like you weren’t allowed to be angry.

And you were. God, you were so angry.

“At least yell back,” you snapped. “Say something. Tell me I’m being stupid. Because I am. This was just hair. Just—” Your voice broke, and your hands clenched at your sides. “Just hair. You’re thinking it. Everyone in this stupid place is.”

You couldn’t stop the tears now. They came fast, stinging hot trails down your cheeks.

You turned away, scrubbing angrily at your face, but the tears kept coming—faster now, messier. The kind that made your chest hitch in a way you couldn’t control.

You hated that most of all.

Your grief had been so quiet for days. It sat inside you like a stone. Heavy. Still.

But now it had cracked open, and everything ugly and loud and furious was spilling out.

“I can’t even be upset without it feeling like a performance,” you gasped, voice raw. “Everyone keeps acting like I lost a limb or a loved one and I—I cut my hair, Keith.”

The silence that followed made you want to scream. You spun on him, wild-eyed. “Why aren’t you saying anything?!”

“Because you’re hurting,” he said simply. “And I don’t want to take that from you.”

That stopped you in your tracks. Like cold water.

You tried to claw back at the anger in you. You could feel it receding, fading into your chest, and you desperately wanted it back. Because at least that way you wouldn't feel so numb all the time.

Your face scrunched, as if you were about to snarl at him. Instead you let out a loud groan and threw your weapon across the room, as you threw yourself against the nearest wall. You slid down, palms pressing against your eyes.

Your knees didn’t buckle this time, but you wished they had. At least then it would’ve felt like someone else was forcing you to fall.

But it was just you. You, finally crumbling under everything you'd buried.

Keith didn’t speak. He just stepped forward and sat next to you.

You allowed silence to settle between you two. Only being filled by the sound of your sobs and shakes. You felt so extremely pathetic.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered eventually, voice paper-thin. “I didn’t mean to snap. I just…”

Keith didn’t move, didn’t interrupt. He sat cross-legged beside you, shoulder barely brushing yours, like any more pressure might break the air between you.

“I don’t know who I am without it,” you said. “It wasn’t just hair. I know it sounds dumb, but it wasn’t. I grew up with it, Keith. My mom braided it. My brother braided it. My birthdays, every solstice, every loss…it was all there.”

Your throat closed on you. You let out a shaky breath.

You looked down at your hands. At the calluses, the small tremors, the smudge of sweat and training deck dust across your palms. You clenched them hard.

“It was the one part of me that still felt like home.”

Keith was quiet for a while. Then, softly: “I don’t think it’s dumb.”

You hummed, not daring to look at him yet. You pressed your knees against your chest. Maybe if you made yourself small enough, the pain wouldn’t have enough space to thrive.

“I think it’s brave,” he said. “The way you carry people with you.”

You turned your head to find his eyes were already fixed on you.

“I didn’t know how to help,” he went on, slower now. “But I didn’t want to leave you alone either. So I stayed. I guess… I just hoped it was enough.”

Your lip trembled again. You wanted to say something. Thank him perhaps. But every time you tried to open your mouth, more tears spilled.

Before you could say anything, Keith reached into his pocket.

“I didn’t know when to give these to you.”

Carefully, like he was handing over something fragile, he unwrapped a piece of cloth.

Three beads lay in the center.

Charred. Smoke-stained. But still whole.

“I found them in the wreckage,” he said. “Recognized them. I didn’t know what to do with them. I didn’t even know if I should say anything. But I kept them.”

You stared at them. Your breath caught in your throat.

You reached out slowly, brushing your fingers over the beads. They were warm from his pocket. Worn smooth by memory.

You took them in your palm like they were sacred.

Another cry escaped your throat. You pressed them against your lips. “These were my brothers’.”

Keith’s gaze lowered to analyze the two beads you were pointing at. Your finger moved to pick up the third bead and you lifted it up to eye-level. You laughed a teary-laugh.

“This was for when we got our pet. I was seven.”

You allowed yourself to cry for them for a moment longer. Covering them with the cloth, you didn’t want them to be stained by your grief.

“Thank you,” you said after a while, and it sounded broken.

Keith didn’t reply. He just gently reached out, pinkie extended.

You didn’t hesitate this time as you intertwined your fingers together.

You leaned your head on his shoulder.

He didn’t leave.

Something was different the next morning.

You couldn’t quite name it. It wasn’t that the weight was gone—grief didn’t vanish overnight—but the pressure that had been sitting on your chest for days… had shifted.

For the longest time, you felt as if it had been looming over you— a suffocating cloud of darkness that would not let you breathe properly.

But on this particular morning, you found grief sitting next to you. As if it was an old friend.

Keith had stayed with you again. Fell asleep in the chair beside your bed, head tipped slightly forward, arms crossed in that way he always sat—like he was half-ready to jump into battle if needed. The dim blue glow of the castle lights painted his face soft and muted.

He hadn’t spoken much last night after giving you the beads.

He hadn’t needed to.

He stayed. That was enough.

You slipped quietly out of bed, padded into the bathroom, and stood in front of the mirror.

Your reflection didn’t surprise you anymore. The rough, jagged edges of your hair had become familiar. You’d stopped flinching. Stopped looking away.

But this morning… for the first time, you reached for the brush.

The bristles caught in places. Snagged on the uneven strands. You worked carefully, untangling them one by one. You didn't rush. There was no one watching, no one expecting. Just you, in your own time.

When the tangles were gone, you stared for a while. Just breathed.

Then, slowly, you parted a section of hair behind your right ear.

Fingers steady.

You began to braid.

The motion was instinct. Muscle memory.

Over. Under. Over again.

And when you reached halfway down, you paused.

You walked back into the room and opened the drawer where you'd carefully placed them the night before.

The beads Keith had saved.

You threaded them onto the end of the braid, fingers slow but sure.

They clicked gently together. Familiar.

You tied it off with a scrap of twine.

Then you turned to the other side and braided again—smaller this time, nothing fancy. You weren’t trying to recreate what you’d lost. Just… carry it forward.

Two braids. Simple. Steady.

You didn’t cry.

But you smiled.

Just barely.

For a moment, you felt anger resurface in your chest again at the reflection. The smile felt fake and forced.

You closed your eyes, breathed deeply and tried again.

You didn’t force it to reach your eyes, you didn’t even show your teeth. But it felt like a step in the right direction.

You heard Keith stir behind you. After a brief moment he joined you in the bathroom, standing behind you, assessing your reflection. He blinked sleepily, eyes still heavy with rest.

He smiled before leaning over you. Resting his head on your shoulder and pressing a small kiss on your cheek.

It didn’t happen all at once.

You didn’t wake up suddenly fine. No one expected you to.

But day by day, moment by moment, things began to shift.

It started the day you braided your hair again.

You walked into the dining hall for breakfast—not late, not hiding—and the room went quiet. Not like before, when everyone froze in shock or uncertainty. This time, it was reverent.

Because they saw the beads.

You sat beside Pidge without saying anything.

She just offered you a slice of toast with a nod, and you took it.

That was enough.

Later that evening, you joined them again. This time, for game night.

It was Lance who noticed first. His head snapped up when you entered, already in the middle of dramatically losing to Hunk in a trivia round.

He opened his mouth, probably to say something extremely Lance, but for once—he didn’t.

Instead, he offered you a seat beside him.

“You’re just in time to lose horribly,” he said with a grin.

You rolled your eyes. “You say that like it’s new.”

Laughter bubbled around the table. It wasn’t the loudest or brightest night—but it was the first one that felt normal again.

You didn’t hide after that.

You showed up for training. You helped Pidge fix a communication relay. You teased Keith under your breath during sparring, and he smirked that tiny smirk of his in return.

You still had hard days. Quiet mornings. Moments where the grief crawled up your throat unexpectedly. But you let yourself feel them now. You didn’t bottle them up.

You welcomed it in. Like an old friend who had been hurting just like you. You tried to sit with it as long as possible.

Slowly, it got easier.

You found that keeping a routine helped you. Small moments during the day you could rely on. At night, when the castle had gone mostly quiet, you stepped out onto the observatory deck.

The stars stretched overhead in waves—endless, cold, beautiful. Your eyes flicked up to them instinctively, mapping constellations you’d memorized as a child. Looking for home, even if it wasn’t there anymore.

You heard footsteps behind you but didn’t turn.

“I figured you’d be here,” Keith said softly, joining you at the railing. “You always are, after game night.”

You shrugged. “Old habits.”

He leaned beside you, his presence steady and unintrusive.

You were quiet together for a while, just watching.

You glanced at him, eyes soft. “Thanks for not disappearing.”

He looked at you like that was the strangest thing you could’ve said. “I never planned to.”

You both went quiet again, the silence this time not heavy, but peaceful.

Eventually, you took a deep breath, and reached up to touch the braid just behind your ear. The beads clicked softly against your fingers.

“I think I’ll add another braid tomorrow,” you said.

Keith glanced over, his mouth quirking slightly. “Yeah?”

“Something to look forward to. I’ll make it a wish, and I’ll keep it with me.”

His eyes lingered on you for a moment longer, then drifted back to the stars.

“Good,” he said. “You deserve those too.”

It became a quiet tradition after that.

For every mission completed, for every planet visited, for every birthday, for every night you let yourself laugh again—another bead was added.

Some were simple. Others glittered with strange materials from alien markets. A few you carved yourself, late at night with a scalpel and a steady hand, shaping memory into something tangible.

Your hair grew longer by the week—awkward at first, the regrowth uneven and unruly—but you didn’t hide it. You wore it loose more often now, sometimes in partial braids, other times pulled back with old cords or woven bands.

Each bead had meaning.

For your brothers.

For the night you started to feel like yourself again.

For the planet with twin moons and singing trees.

For the day Pidge built you a scanner that could record constellations and name them after anything you wanted.

They were yours.

And you carried them with quiet pride.

That night, you were late to dinner. You’d been helping Coran fix a glitch in the water filtration system (which was mostly him gesturing wildly and you pretending to understand the nonsense he was spewing).

As you made your way toward the dining hall, you heard it—hushed voices, hurried shuffling, then an unnatural stillness.

You paused just outside the door, frowning.

Then stepped in.

The silence was immediate.

Allura froze mid-step. Hunk nearly dropped a spoon. Lance blinked like you’d caught him sneaking something. Pidge’s face was unreadable. Keith was at the edge of the room, arms crossed but his eyes very, very focused on you.

You blinked.

“What?” you asked, glancing around. “Do I have something on my face?”

No one said anything.

You rolled your eyes, moving casually toward the fridge. “Seriously, you guys are acting like I just walked in with a Galran warlord or something.”

Behind you, Keith cleared his throat.

You paused, slowly turning.

Shiro stepped forward, hands folded behind his back, voice a little more formal than usual. “We, uh… we’ve been meaning to give you something.”

You blinked. “…Okay.”

Everyone exchanged glances. Then Hunk stepped forward, holding something in his hands.

A small, shallow bowl.

He offered it to you with both palms, almost reverently.

Your brow furrowed. You glanced at him, then down.

Inside were seven beads.

Each unique. Each clearly chosen with care.

You were speechless.

Your fingers hovered over the bowl, and you couldn’t look up. Your throat was suddenly too tight.

“Mine’s glittery,” Lance said proudly, as he pointed in the general direction of his bead. “Obviously.”

“You don’t have to wear them,” Allura spoke up. “We just wanted you to have them, they’re yours to do as you please.”

She understood. More than anyone. She was the last of her kind, too. The last to carry tradition. The last to remember. And here she stood, offering a piece of herself to help you carry yours.

You smiled down at the bowl, feeling tears prick at your eyes.

They weren’t the same kind that had haunted you weeks ago—sharp, angry, uncontrollable.

These were soft and gentle.

You laughed. Breathy and uncontrollable. The tears didn’t stop.

That seemed to be the response they all needed. The tension in the room melted like morning frost.

Like a blooming spring after the longest and coldest of winters.

Later that night, you sat on the floor of your room, legs crossed, bowl of beads beside you.

Your hair had grown more than you realized. It brushed just past your shoulders now.

You braided slowly. You took your moment with each bead, adding them to the same braid. Just beside the one for your brothers.

Fingers careful, breath even, you wove in Lance’s glittering mess of a charm. Hunk’s small piece of meteorite, Allura’s polished marble, Coran’s slightly off centered one…

You chuckled softly, lips tugging up.

The room was quiet, still. The kind of peace you’d once forgotten how to find.

But then—you felt it.

A shift in the air. You turned, instinctively.

Keith stood in the doorway. Leaning against the frame, arms folded. His eyes were on you, but not in a way that made you feel watched. It was gentler than that.

When your eyes met his, he smiled. A small, rare thing that crinkled the corner of his eyes.

You smiled back.

“Thought you’d be on the observatory deck,” you said softly.

“Thought you’d be up there too,” he replied, stepping in slowly. “Guess we were both wrong.”

You turned slightly, patting the spot on the floor beside you. “Come here.”

Keith walked over and sat down next to you without question, his knee touching your thigh. He looked down at the bowl still resting beside your knee.

“You’ve added them,” he said, his voice just above a whisper.

“Not all of them yet,” you replied.

You picked up the last one.

His.

Small. Dark red. Steady in your palm.

You turned to him, tilting your head slightly.

“Do you want to braid it in?”

Keith blinked. His eyes flicked from your face to the bead in your hand, then back.

“I… can?”

You nodded. “It’s yours. If you want it there.”

His fingers hovered for a second—uncertain, reverent.

Then he reached out, and you turned so your back faced him. Gently, you lifted the braid for him to see.

Keith was quiet as he worked. Careful, deliberate. His fingers brushed your hair like it was sacred.

When he finished, he let his hand rest for just a moment longer than needed. Then he sat back.

“There,” he said, barely above a whisper.

You turned around and faced the mirror again. The bead glinted faintly beneath the rest—small, subtle, solid.

You smiled.

“Perfect,” you said.

He looked at your reflection in the mirror.

“Yeah, perfect.”

#keith kogane x reader #platonic x reader #romantic x reader #I’m love this sm oml #and the soft tender affection too???#HELLO?????#ALSO HAIR SYMBOLISM AAAAA #FAVORITE THING FR HOLY HELL #AND THE WAY THE LOVE IS SUBTLE BUT DEFINITELY SUPER THERE I AM A U G H-#KEITH KOGANE MY BELOVED OML

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