Please, For The Love Of God, Please Don’t Be This Person. No Matter How Long It’s Been Since An Update,

The most amazing human Ive ever met.

i love him i love him i love him i love him i love him— THE ART IS SO SCRUMPTIOUS.

jaime reyes doodles!

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.

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.

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.

how deep is your devotion? ; satoru gojo

synopsis; you’re his knight, and he’s your prince. if only it were that simple.

word count; 6.6k

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, royalty au (..but no effort put into making it historically accurate in any way oops), knight!reader x prince!toru!!, childhood friends, mutual pining, fluffy overall, some hurt/comfort too, vague allusions to abuse (reader is punished by one of the castle maids as a child but it’s only really hinted at), knight!reader is horrendously devoted but prince!gojo is arguably worse, he would burn the world down if u asked nicely <3

a/n; big big BIG thank u to @softgirlgonehaywire for having the biggest brain in the world and infecting me w this concept <33 if u pay attention while reading u can tell the exact moment i started slowly spiraling into insanity

you are five years old when you meet the prince.

five years old, a mere child, and too young to be blinded by such brilliance. too young to be where you are; curled up in a dark alley, back against a grimy brick wall, covered in bruises. like a beaten dog — scrawny and afraid. waiting for a strike that never comes.

the boy in front of you is also five years old, but you don’t know that. something in him looks older, somehow, something in the way he carries himself. like he doesn’t have anything to be afraid of. like he’s never even felt fear. he parts his lips and speaks like he has the right to, like he’s comfortable in his own skin, a radiance so blinding you could mistake him for the sun. too much for you to bear.

”does it hurt?”

the words fall on deaf ears. but you flinch, your body reacts, a tremble down your tiny spine. you hear the sound but not the words. too mesmerized, too paralyzed, unable to look away from the blue of his eyes, painted with rich watercolour hues. seeping into the world around you like ink on paper, cobalt and aquamarine and something else, something you’ve never seen before —

a blue so jarring it makes you shiver.

the boy has an innocent face. almost girlish, plump cheeks and long lashes, clean clothes and smooth skin. a little too pretty to be out here, you think, in this part of town — too pure to be anywhere near someone like you. he’s above you, that much you can tell. a pretty, innocent face, untouched by dirt or ache; the face of royalty. an entirely different species.

there’s something keen in his eyes, a contrast to his childlike features. a sharp gaze, something that sees through you, something that won’t look away. something mildly frightening. enough to have you cowering in fear, hugging your knees closer to your chest.

but then he smiles. and it’s sincere. sweet, vibrant, all honey and milk and a world you cannot reach.

a smile so captivating you take his outstretched hand, and let him drag you away to god-knows-where.

(that's how it begins. the dynamic that’ll follow you into your adult lives; satoru takes the lead, and you follow. no matter where he’s going.)

satoru gojo, as you soon come to learn, is the prince of the nation you reside in. the only child of the royal family, born with talent and prestige, fame and fortune, set to become king. a different species, indeed.

but he brings you home with him, to a castle so grand you feel as if your very presence is an insult to the architects who designed it, and convinces his parents to let you stay. it’s surprising, but you don’t protest; following him like a puppy at his trail. and he’s stubborn, insistent, demanding that he get to keep said puppy. 

the king and queen don’t care one way or another. they glance at you with apathy, and tell satoru to do what he wants — but convincing the scary and displeased castle maids takes some work. 

satoru doesn’t waver, though. he holds your hand in his, and demands that you be treated with respect.

and he wins. he always wins.

that’s how you become the prince’s playmate. raised alongside him, allowed to stay close, eat from the same food. he won’t settle for anything less. defending your honour, always, before you even know what honour means. before you care.

time passes slowly. joyously. every day is a new adventure, as you attempt to get used to the miracle that is your new life — sweet and silky, apricot blossoms and fresh peaches, duvet pillows and a bubbly laughter you didn’t know you still had. he coaxes it out of you, with every secret midnight outing, every bout of mischief he drags you both into. 

satoru has nice hands, uncalloused palms, fingers that grasp yours and don’t let go. he takes you outside, to see the stars, to catch fireflies in the dark of night on top of the hill that oversees the castle. to take a dip in the river just below it, gleaming a silver hue under the blue shade of the moon. you worry about getting in trouble, but he reassures you — the prince can do what he wants.

that might be true, but you are no prince. not even close. satoru may safeguard you, but all you’ll ever be in the eyes of the world is a stray he got to keep.

and one time, only one time, you do face the repercussions of your midnight outings. you, and you alone. a bad influence — seething words, buzzing in your ears. an angry castle maid, and a stinging pain in your cheek. blurry tears. 

but that’s an incident no one in the castle dares to speak of.

(you’ll never forget that look in his eyes.)

satoru is an odd boy. he keeps you close, always, clinging to you like he needs you to breathe. you don’t understand why, but you’ve learned not to question him. the castle guards all know you as the prince’s best friend, and some part of you knows that’s all you’ll ever amount to. but you don’t mind.

because you love him. at five years old, six years old, seven and beyond, you love him. satoru gojo, the kindest boy in the stratosphere. 

a boy who keeps finding you, no matter where you are, who tugs you along as naturally as the rise of the sun. who raids kitchen cabinets with you and always makes you laugh, little giggles and chuckles that have him beaming proudly. a boy who cleans your wounds with a serious expression, and tells you that he’ll protect you forever. 

(you tell yourself the same. that you’ll protect him forever and ever, until you run out of air to breathe. a boy so sweet you’d die for him.)

a pledge is made. you make it before you know what a pledge is. pledging to protect him, to become his sword, because even as a child you understand that his life will be difficult. you see it in the dullness that sometimes comes over his eyes, the apathy of his so-called parents, the hours he spends locked up with nothing but a pile of dusty books to keep him company. 

so you decide to become his knight. his, and his alone. 

it’s challenging. but you push through; training with another aspiring knight, miles better than you, black hair tousled by the breeze as he knocks you off your feet for the thirtieth consecutive time. wincing as the girl who sometimes watches your sparring patches you up, soft hands cleaning your wounds so tenderly that you almost choke up.

and eventually, as the apricot blossoms of the castle orchard wilt and bloom over and over in a flurry of pure white, your dream comes true. 

there’s something playful in satoru’s eyes, when he places his blade on the curve of your shoulder. something sweet and fond, and just a little bit ironic — as if you’re still seven years old, and playing house. 

you want to tell him that it isn’t a joke. that you’re serious, about this, that you’d tear your stomach open to keep him safe. but you know he’d just laugh. so you let the words clog up your throat, honey-sweet devotion sticking to the walls of your esophagus. breathing in through your nose, as he speaks. as the words you’ve waited to hear flow from his glossy lips.

when all is said and done, satoru smiles. he calls you his little knight, and you can tell that he’s teasing you. indulging you, as if he’s in on some joke that you aren’t. but you’ll take what you can get.

you call him my prince, expecting him to laugh it off, but his smile begins to fall. and a pang of ache rushes through your soul, instantaneous, guilty, although you don’t understand why.

so you keep calling him satoru. even though it’s more than a little unprofessional, and you become painfully accustomed to receiving a few judgemental looks here and there. a knight and a prince shouldn’t be so very close, they think, and you don’t disagree. but there’s nothing they can do about it, anyhow.

the prince and his knight can do what they want.

not much changes. you’re his knight, but he treats you the same as before. he’s playful, a little goofy, and you indulge him. as always. attached at the hip, bickering and bantering, bouncing off each other effortlessly. and satoru never bothers to hide your history, the soft spot he has for you; it’s in every fleeting glance, soft tilt of his head, teasing call of ah, there’s my favorite knight. 

(you’re no stranger to jealous looks. sometimes a pout on the lips of a pretty girl, a crease between the brows of one of your fellow knights. and sometimes a glare, from his fiancée — a woman he was engaged to before he was old enough to speak.

but you don’t mind. you’ve never cared what anyone but satoru thinks of you.)

satoru never loses his smile, that effortless air of confidence. the charm that makes people want to follow him, a charisma you know well. one you fell victim to at five years of age. he’s still just a prince, far from being a king, but he receives the same respect.

and that keen, sharp glimmer in his eyes never quite goes away; the hardened shell around his heart unbroken. you see it in fleeting glances, during meetings, ones he allows you to attend despite your status. when he speaks to a room of people with more power than you can imagine, his voice unwavering. back straight. elegant, serious, the presence of royalty — enough to receive respect without even trying. 

but he still shoots you a smile, easygoing, when your eyes meet. one only you can see.

as for you, the step into knighthood is a clumsy one. but you take your duties seriously, and adjust properly. a deep devotion runs through your veins, from your beating heart down to the tips of your fingers, where a sword lies clutched. you keep it close, always, ready to serve. to obey. to protect. 

all of it for one person.

all you do is for him. duels in his honour, beasts slain for his peace of mind, and he’s always there to welcome you back. wiping the blood from your cheek, tenderly, smearing his untainted skin with red; all while he looks at you softly, a coo or word of praise waltzing on the tip of his tongue. 

that’s only for when you remain unscathed, though, when the blood on your cheek isn’t your own. when you get hurt, it’s different — something begins to brew inside his eyes, and you can’t tell what it is. but he insists on bandaging you himself, paying no mind to your meek protests.

sometimes, you’re more reckless than usual. your injuries worse. sometimes he looks upset, angry with you, and doesn’t speak. you don’t, either.

a strange look comes over his eyes, every now and then. when you get down on one knee, to kiss his hand, the metal of the ring on his finger — and if you look up, you’ll see it. simmering inside those blue depths, something just as fond as it is sad. troubled, you think.

(something tells you he’d kneel, too, if only you’d let him.)

the bond between you remains intact. even as you begin to shoulder more responsibilities, more duties, even though you don’t have as much freedom as you used to. even though you seem to get less time to spend with each other every single day. but you stay together, even so; just like when you were children, running around and causing trouble, more than you could get away with now. 

despite everything, satoru has grown up into a fine man. and you couldn't be prouder.

“do you think i look good in black? be honest.”

you throw him a glance. curious, somewhat perplexed, eyeing him up and down.

satoru is wearing a white blouse, puffy sleeves and a low neckline, showing off the skin of his bare chest. no black colours to be seen. you think back to that banquet he attended last month, forced into an expensively tailored black coat. a corset around his waist. and then you hum.

“sure you do.”

”suguru said it makes me look like a try-hard,” he scoffs, crossing his arms. tilting his head in your direction. ”do you think he’s jealous?”

”definitely.”

a moment passes. 

satoru narrow his eyes, and gives you a dubious look. clicking his tongue. ”… something tells me you aren’t taking this seriously.”

”i am,” you assure him, a lazy smile at your lips. meeting his gaze, that displeased little pout. still smoothing a brush down the mane of your horse, the smell of hay soothing your muddled senses. ”just tired. you look good in anything. you know that.”

he hums. silent, the sound of a spring breeze filling in the gaps.

it’s late. outside the stables, the world is engulfed by a dark sky, almost too murky to see anything. hazy stars glimmer in the distance, and a sense of fatigue gnaws at your bones. it’s been a long day, and yet you’re here — doing even more work. just a little more.

and satoru’s right there with you. even though he’s just sitting there, on the floor, not lifting a finger to help. not that he has to. insistent on spending some quality time with you, keeping you company. just talking and munching on the food he snuck in, bread and cheese and an expensive bottle of wine, that he leaves completely untouched. he tries to leave some of everything else for you, though. keyword being tries.

a sense of peace simmers in the air. palpable, almost enough to taste, as midnight air streams in from the opened doors, chilly and pleasant on your skin. ruffling the thin fabric of your clothing.

and it’s nice, you think, just to have satoru there — talking about this and that, complaining about all the annoying people he had to meet yesterday, yawning every now and then. nostalgic. like this, it almost feels like you're still kids. back when you spent every single hour of the day by each other’s side.

it’s been a long time since you got the chance to speak like this. satoru’s been busy, and so have you. more so than usual.

”are they running you ragged?” he suddenly asks, and you don’t realize you’ve spent the last minute staring into space. resuming your brushing, with steady hands, but turning your head to meet his gaze.

”need me to…” he makes a slicing motion with his hand, right over his throat. a glint of mischief in his eyes. ”handle it?”

and you scoff. amused, but answering him seriously; unsure if his question is all-together humorous, if it doesn’t carry a hint of something genuine too. ”of course not.”

there’s a weariness in the way you blink. the way you pet the animal in front of you, having finished getting the dirt and blood clots out of her mane. she lays down in her stall, and you smile. turning around to rest your back against the wooden border between you, a respite for your aching bones.

it gets just a little bit tiring, sometimes. fighting, patrolling, helping townsfolk. protecting the castle, making sure everything is in order. killing whatever needs to be killed. cleaning the stained silver of your sword.

but…

”it’s my duty,” you answer, seriously, and it comes out sounding like a vow. because it is. 

you avoid his gaze, but you can feel it, as you pick up the wine bottle by your feet and pop the cork. soft moonlight flits in from the windows, illuminating the green glass. a chartreuse glow that reminds you of fireflies, shimmering in your grasp, and for some reason it soothes your heart.

satoru only hums, far from approving. popping a piece of cheese into his mouth. 

after a brief pause, he continues. ”you don’t have to be so serious all the time, you know.” his voice comes out a little raspy. it’s got a certain tilt to it, one that means he wants you to take him seriously. ”not around me.”

you take a sip of the wine. expensive, blood red. it’s too sweet for your taste, heavy on your tongue.

”… i’m less serious with you than i am with others.”

satoru sits up a little straighter.

”yeah?” he grins, a kind of satisfaction blooming in his eyes. cerulean and sweet. almost smug, you think, like the cat that got the cream. ”that’s good. you really should loosen up, though.”

a glance. fleeting, just to see him — but he isn’t looking at you. he’s looking outside, through the opened window, at the sway of the apricot trees. white petals flitting in, landing by his feet. in his hair.

when his eyes meet yours, they’re smoothed over by that something you can never put your finger on. a blend between longing and fondness. crinkled at the edges.

”you’ve got a pretty smile,” he exhales. ”be a shame not to show it off.”

when you look at him, really look at him, you see it. that fatigue. it slips out when he talks to you, a sincere way of speaking that never quite allows him to hide his emotions. you hear the hint of a yawn, can practically feel the weight on his shoulders. the weight of an entire nation. a weight he was always bound to carry.

(you could never bring yourself to be even remotely alright with it.)

“have you been doing okay?” you ask, and satoru blinks. there’s a soft look in your eyes, as they trail over the contours of his face, his lashes catching the light of the stars. an innocent, pretty face. but he looks tired. frail. like he hasn’t been sleeping properly.

something rotten bubbles up inside your throat.

”they’re running you ragged, too,” you say, hand settling on your hip. where your sword usually is. unconsciously, on instinct — or maybe just to make him laugh. ”need me to step in?”

satoru chuckles. husky, mellow. dripping with soft amusement.

”settle down, little knight.”

a moment passes. silent. his eyes flutter shut, for a second, and a breath slips from his lips. almost a sigh. in the distance, you hear the quiet coo of an owl. 

”of course,” he eventually answers, opening his eyes. and you think he looks a little resigned. but smiling. self-deprecating, you think, although he’d like you to assume otherwise. ”all of it is just preparation, anyhow.” 

a flimsy smile, as he looks into your knowing eyes. ”it’s what i was born for, wasn’t it?”

you purse your lips.

“… i don’t think so.”

another chuckle. a little delighted, this time. 

“yeah,” he cranes his neck, emitting a low groan. “me neither.” something sweet blossoms in his eyes, sweet like the crunch of the apple he bites into, juice dribbling down his chin. ”but it is what it is.”

a beat. you part your lips, trying to find the right words. ”tell me if there's anything i can do,” you settle on. the same words you always choose. ”anything at all.”

satoru smiles. “right.” his voice carries a teasing tilt; almost a purr. ”there’s nothing you wouldn't do for me, hm?” 

“— there isn’t.” you smile. “nothing at all.”

he blinks. a little dazed, for a second, and you watch as his ears redden. slight, enough for you to notice, but gone before you can bring it up. a contemplation smooths over his features. and a pleasant breeze flits in, ruffling his hair, apricot petals kissing up his skin. he looks at the apple in his hands.

then he sighs. placing his palms on his knees, and rising to his feet. his arms twitch, muscular beneath the flimsy blouse, and you gulp. although you aren’t sure why.

“alright, then.” his eyes flicker in the dim light, sharp and decisive. he crosses over to you with long strides. “there is something you can do.”

when he’s close enough, satoru reaches out his hand; opening his palm. a silent beckoning. you look at him, not saying a word. his expression is unreadable. 

then you intertwine your fingers with his. unquestioningly, even in the midst of your confusion.

(it reminds you of that day. when he pulled you up to your feet, held your hand in his and refused to let go. leading you to the promise of something better.)

no matter where he goes, you follow.

and satoru grins. it’s sweet, just like back then, a smile so vibrant you wish you could tuck it into your sleeve and keep it there forever. he curls his fingers around yours, gentle, fondness bubbling up inside his eyes. for a second, you think you see the sun.

“come with me.”

at first, you truly aren’t sure where he’s going to take you. hand in hand, you begin to walk, feeling the midnight breeze nip at your skin. beyond the castle walls, away from the hustle and bustle of the nearby town. satoru holds your hand and smiles, tousled tufts of white hair swaying with the wind, leading you to a place you know well. a place where the air tastes like freedom.

it’s the river you used to play by as children.

gleaming a solemn silver under the evanescent moon, framed by bushes of lilacs, blooming indigo and violet and pure white. butterflies flutter about, almost glittering, blue wings settling down on the leaves. the scent of nectar hangs heavy in the air. on top of the hill just above you, you think you can spot tiny little glowing dots; green and yellow, buzzing around. dancing merrily, now that there aren’t any troublemaker children left to trap them.

satoru lets go of your hand, to roll up his sleeves. the hems of his pants. then he’s taking a step forward, dangerously close to the edge of the river, and you can tell what he’s thinking.

“ah — wait —“ you stumble forward, to grab hold of his arm. a worried crease forms between your brows. “that's dangerous, satoru. you could slip and fall.”

he turns to face you, a teasing mirth in his eyes. smirking lightly. “oh? is that so?” he hums, a slight tilt of his head. then he’s stepping closer, so close you feel his warm breath on your skin, but you will yourself not to step back. “wanna know what i think?”

he leans forward, just a little further, warm air brushing against the shell of your ear. flushing beneath it. his voice comes out low, a sleepy lilt, dangerously raspy. hand ghosting over your waist.

”i think you’re too scared to get in.”

you blink.

”… really?” you deadpan, stepping back a tad. satoru looks pleased with himself. awfully amused.

“really,” he purrs. “you were always like that. could barely dip your toes in without shivering.” he reaches out to pinch your cheek, a coo on the tip of his tongue. ”scaredy-cat.”

you raise your brow. unimpressed.

satoru steps back. inching closer to the river, until a quiet splash tells you that he’s standing in the water. lapping up his bare legs, not enough to even reach his knees — it felt a lot scarier when you were smaller. he’s still holding your hand, very loosely, fingertips ghosting your own. 

“c’mon,” he coaxes. soft, encouraging, a playful glimmer in his eyes. teeth catching the light of the moon. “or is it too much for my brave knight to handle?”

satoru laughs, when you furrow your brows, attempting to hide the flush of your cheeks. a warmth spreads through your chest at the term of endearment, and you bite your lip. melting a little. 

his knight. his favourite knight.

“.. fine,” you tangle your fingers in his own. sighing deeply, taking a tentative step forward. “just be careful, okay? i don't want to deal with your whining if you hit your head.”

“ah, but you’d kiss it better, no? if i asked?” he flashes you a honeyed grin, eyes rich with amusement. you hope the darkness of the night is enough to hide the red of your ears.

a grumble buzzes in your throat, locked behind your pursed lips. something in your jaw goes tight.

the man in front of you softens. parting his glossy lips. he says your name; slowly, thoughtfully, as if savouring every syllable. dragging them out, speaking with a lilt that tells you he’s being sincere.

“— loosen up. it’s just you and me.”

so you do.

and it’s odd. how easy it is to get lost in him, the watercolour of his eyes, the brightness of his grin. how pliantly you let him whisk you away. before you know it, you’re playing in the water — because satoru splashed you, laughing at the shock on your face and the shiver of your spine, and you had no choice but to retaliate. 

the sound of his laughter fills the air, sweet and bubbly. deep and giddy. strands of hair stick to his wet skin, droplets running down his neck, but his grin never falters. bright and toothy, boyish. he looks younger than you ever remember him being. like there’s no weight on his shoulders, none at all, only soaked fabric weighing him down. a flimsy, see-through blouse.

you think it’s ridiculous. two grown adults, splashing each other like children. but his melodic giggles are contagious, and before you know it, you’re laughing too — and satoru looks at you like you hung all the stars in the sky. through dewy eyelashes, with cerulean eyes that melt into the pale blue of the moon and the silver of the river. filled with wonder.

a particularly ruthless splash knocks him off balance, and he has the instinct to reach for your arm; stumbling, slipping, dragging you down with him. you land on his chest, cheek against his neck, his pulse against your skin. erratic, joyous. fluttering happily.

his chest is heaving. lifting you up and down, a little, rhythmic and comforting. 

a sudden yelp slips past your lips, as you get snapped back into reality, into the realization that you basically just pushed your own prince into a river and used his unfairly soft chest as a cushion. a mumbled string of apologies escapes you, as you attempt to get up, scrambling to find footing.

but satoru wraps his arms around you. tucking you under his chin, keeping you flush against his chest. nice and still. 

and then he sighs. a blissful little breath, fatigue seeping out of him. into the air. 

“stay like this, for a bit,” he rasps. ”it’s okay.”

his heartbeat resounds in your ear. warm and rapid, like claps of thunder, coaxing you into closing your eyes. satoru has always felt so very safe. the water of the river is cold, seeping through the fabric of your clothing and sticking to your skin, but…

(he’s warm.)

silence. and then, a whisper; frail, slipping past his lips, gently slicing the silence in half. softer than you've ever heard him speak.

“i missed this.”

…

nuzzling into his neck, you breathe him in. he smells like sandalwood and dried roses, buzzing with warmth, heavy arms around your waist. solid. when did he get so big? you used to be taller. 

then again — that was a long time ago, wasn’t it?

“… me too.”

“missed you,” he continues, his jaw on top of your head. it’s a sincere confession; childlike in its innocence. “missed hearing you laugh like that. feels like it’s been so long.” 

you stay silent. unsure of what to say. satoru continues, and you let his husky voice carry you away, the tremor of his chest running through your entire body. soothing like a lullaby. 

”we haven't had much time together, lately. i’ve been worried,” he admits, and something about it strikes you as rather sheepish. a little ashamed. ”it bothers me that i can't be there to watch over you. make sure you're treated with respect, you know.”

a sleepy chuckle. muffled into his shoulder, almost a scoff — slightly exasperated. little droplets cling to his skin, sticking to your lips.

”relax, your majesty,” you tease. ”i promise the other knights aren’t bullying me.” 

satoru pouts. you can hear it, when he speaks. ”i’m serious,” he huffs, squeezing you lightly. ”and it’s not them i’m worried about. suguru’s there.”

another scoff threatens to escape your throat. you want to tell him the only knight that should be suspected of bullying you is suguru himself, but before you can even think to part your lips satoru’s beaten you to it.

”they all treat you so carelessly.” there’s something cold to his voice, an irritation tugging at his teeth. oddly seething. ”like you exist to serve them. like you’re disposable.” 

a moment passes, heavy with a silence so thick you don’t dare break it. when he speaks again, it’s an order. a demand. 

”i want you to tell me if they go too far.”

silence. again. you can do nothing but gnaw at the flesh of your bottom lip. 

(he isn’t wrong. but that’s simply what it means to be a knight — half-human, half-weapon. an unattainable ideal, stuffed inside a suit of armor.

when a weapon breaks under the force of a slash, the only choice is to throw it away. that much you know.)

”it’s fine. i’m not that fragile,” you weakly protest, but it’s not enough. satoru huffs.

”you’re a human being,” he reminds you. strangely stern, for once. chastising. ”you deserve to be treated with respect. knight or not. fragile or not.”

a deep inhale. he breathes in, and the rise of his chest carries you with it. his voice buzzes with something, a slumbering kind of fury. one you haven’t heard in years. 

“if anyone gives you trouble — if anyone hurts you… if anyone makes you feel unsafe,” he almost spits the words, like they’re venomous, sacrilegious. ”tell me. i’ll destroy them.”

silence. and then, a chuckle.

that’s all you can manage; that one meek little breath. resisting the urge to cower, at the love that clings to every word he speaks. angered affection. a promise, dangerously genuine, like a growing wildfire.

”i can take care of myself, satoru,” you remind him. hoping it’ll soothe him. ”you know that.”

but his grip around you only tightens. gentle, even still. as if you’re made of glass, a firefly cupped in his palms. he lets the silence linger, for a moment.

and then; 

“i’d do it, you know.”

a questioning hum. “do what?” you ask, though some part of you already knows. 

satoru’s reply is instantaneous. an arrow hitting its target, cold and concise, decisive. frighteningly honest. almost a growl, flattened, a hint of teeth behind his soft lips. ”destroy them. anyone.”

”i’d tear this nation apart if you asked me to.”

…

(ah. that look in his eyes — one you remember well. strung together with blurred memories, the sting of a palm on your cheek, a castle maid you never saw again.)

you search for the words. biting back a gulp, hesitant. “… i wouldn’t.”

“i know.” satoru yawns, breathing you in, voice shifting back into the softness you’re so used to. your shoulders relax. “but i would. if that’s what you wanted.”

and it’s a little scary, the depths of his devotion. but you’re almost certain you’d do the same for him. maybe you're both a little sick in the head, a little too eager to serve your hearts on a silver platter.

“it bothers me, you know.” satoru breaks you out of your thoughts. gentle, a soft lull of his tongue. ”when you get hurt. when you fight for me.”

“i know,” you murmur. you’ve seen it in his eyes, a worry he’s not as good at hiding as he thinks. ”i want to, though.”

“and i want you to be safe.” a chuckle bubbles up in his throat, just a little bit rueful. “you never listen, do you? so stubborn, i swear. always worrying me.”

you bite down on your lip. he sounds… a little sad.

“… sorry.”

a moment’s pause. then he shakes his head; cradling you close. “it’s fine. i’m here. always,” his palm runs down the small of your back. ”in case anything happens.”

he inhales. ”and when i become king —” a beat. he swallows thickly. ”you’ll never have to worry again. no one will be able to touch you.”

”satoru,” you crack a small smile. amused. raising a single eyebrow. ”i’m not worried. i can protect myself.”

”i know. but i’m saying you don’t have to.”

and then he’s pulling back. just a little bit, just enough to see you. cheek smushed against his chest, comfortable and soft, more unguarded than he’s seen you these past few months. it’s enough to get his heart racing.

enough to have him reaching out, fingertips ghosting over your hand, tangling your fingers together. bringing it to his glossy lips. a chaste kiss, brimming with unspoken murmurs of love.

”— i’ll protect you forever,” he vows. ”remember?”

there’s devotion in his eyes. heavy, a vow he’ll never quite be able to voice in full. something that makes the blue of his eyes glow even brighter, cerulean, aquamarine, a blue so jarring it makes your heart beat faster than it should.

you blink. starstruck, caught in a daze, lost within that sea of blue. distracted by his warm breath on your cold skin, the soft whisper voiced against your knuckle. something shy blossoms in your chest, enough to have you averting your gaze. 

“... you really don’t care about the dynamic here, do you?” is all you can reply. a meek scoff, a weak attempt at hiding how flustered you are. “i’m the knight. i’m your protector.”

“oh, i know.” a smile sticks to his lips, playful, the back of his hand caressing your cheek. a coo on his tongue. “my little hero. what would i ever do without you?”

a roll of your eyes. satoru chuckles. in the distance, you hear crickets chirping, a breeze rustling the lilac bushes all around you. he’s still cradling your cheek, smoothing over your wet skin, brushing a drop of water away with his thumb. clinging to your bottom eyelash.

“i don't get it, though.”

you blink. when you meet his eyes, satoru looks a little perplexed. muttering under his breath, absently rubbing circles over your cheekbone. you resist the urge to close your eyes again, biting back a blissful sigh.

”a prince shouldn’t care for his knight…” he repeats, like he’s heard the string of words a million times before. ”the idea of that. i don’t understand it. never have.”

the smile that blossoms on his lips is soft, indescribably so, as if he’s looking at the most precious thing in his life. rich and warm, like wine in your veins, nectar on your tongue, a chest pressed against your own. dripping with fondness.

satoru tilts his head, as if in confusion — but he’s smiling. “what’s so strange about wanting to protect the one dearest to my heart?” 

…

his hand slips from your skin, a warmth leaving your cheek. only to search for your hand, again, cradling it in his larger palm. placing it right over his chest, against the soaked material of his blouse. ”feel that?”

you do. a rhythmic rise and fall, a soft flutter from the depths of his ribcage. as if it’s itching to break out, out of the cage that binds it, the hardened shell around it. a heart too big for his body.

”it’s you,” satoru whispers. ”all for you.”

a moment passes.

silently, you lean forward; tucking yourself into his neck. into that comforting warmth, wet skin beginning to dry, the steady thrum of his heart right by your ear. you listen. not saying a word, afraid of what might leave the confines of your strangled throat. it feels as if your heart has begun to crawl upwards, sweet honey blocking your airways, and all you can do it feel it pulse. 

all while satoru gazes at you, fondly. placing a big palm on the back of your head.

fireflies dance in the distance. butterflies flutter about. strings of lilacs bloom under the glow of the moon. and satoru’s heartbeat never changes, never falls out of tune, a sound you would recognize even if the sky were to shatter, if the world were to end. the sound that saved you, the boy who dragged you out of hell. into his light. 

satoru gojo is everything. he’s the beat of your heart, the silver of your sword, the reason you believe in goodness. he’s your prince, your favorite person, and you’ll protect him until your very last breath. until the world runs out of oxygen.

a boy so sweet you’d die for him.

(a boy so sweet he wouldn’t want you to.)

a shiver runs down his spine — sudden, a shudder of his bones, and a quiet little sniffle. you feel it, hear it, and don’t attempt to bite back the fond smile that slips into the curve of your lips.

”c’mon,” you beckon, almost a coo, placing your palms on his chest to hoist yourself up. ”let’s go home.”

but satoru shakes his head. and then he traps you again, strong arms around your waist, pressing you against him. you could escape — you’re almost certain you’re stronger — but you don’t quite have the heart to. ”it’s fine,” he huffs. almost a whine. ”stay.”

”you’ll get sick.”

”i never get sick.”

a deep exhale. tumbling from your lips, just a little bit humorous. mostly exasperated. ”that can change,” you mumble, fingertips dancing along his exposed skin. absentmindedly.

a smile. one you can’t see, but you hear it clear as day. he sounds content, like he’s got everything he needs right in front of him. ”some things never change,” he informs you. pleased. ”just look at us.”

and he’s right. so you don’t say anything else. 

but your heartbeat quickens, only for a beat or two, and you’re almost certain he feels it. if he does, he opts not to tease you for once, and you’re grateful. and so the silence lingers. as if time has begun to freeze, into an eternal dusk, a string of silent seconds. broken only by low melodic chirping from the faraway fields, his soft breaths in your ear. 

until satoru suddenly chuckles.

“hey,” he hums, shifting a little, the river swaying around you. pulling back to meet your gaze, eyes crinkled and voice raspy. “wanna know a secret?”

you raise your head. a dubious look on your face, one that has him breathing out an amused puff of air, like you’re getting ready to hear a bad joke. “... what is it?”

before the words have fully left your throat, he’s resting his forehead against yours — breath fanning over your lips. a pleasant shiver trails down your spine, at the close proximity, goosebumps spreading across your chilled skin. only exacerbated by the whisper that follows, so quiet you almost don’t know if you heard him correctly. childlike in its sincerity. a sunlaced smile woven in between the vowels.

“i think i was born to meet you.”

(a sentiment so sweet you barely even feel the warmth of his lips meeting yours.)

𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓

୧ ‧₊˚ arguing with your boyfriend, miles, was always your least favorite thing. but when he accidentally raises his voice at you, accusing you of something you’re not, he'll do anything to make it up to you. so, he decides to come to your work. pairings & aus. earth42!miles morales x fem!black!reader warnings. angst | established relationship | fluff at the end | arguing | slight toxicity | arguing | reader owns a cafe author's note. changed the aesthetic of my posts!

"MAMI, PLEASE, IAN MEAN IT LIKE THAT."

The way your glossy eyes roll to the back of your head only further induce your oncoming headache, but you don’t care. Something about your boyfriend elevating his tone at you made you crumble, brown irises boring into his own as he pleaded for you to listen.

You hear him breathe softly, and then he picks at the calloused skin of his thumb as his mouth contorts into an almost-pout. It’s apologetic, you think— by the way his eyebrows are furrowed and his face somberly melts into a softer expression, contrasted to his normal stoic one. But his look isn’t enough. You want something verbal, something pleading, something so desperate for your forgiveness that it’ll be inevitable for your answer to be ‘Yes, Miles, you didn’t do anything wrong and I would love for us to be back to normal.’

But that’s not what you were getting.

Instead, he had yelled at you, and not just a normal yell, one that he would normally let out if you were pestering him or were about to run into an unknown danger. No— this yell was authentic and real, raw, on purpose. And his lips still couldn’t find themselves to say that he were sorry.

The argument wasn’t even your fault, and Miles had told you so, therefore it was verified that you weren’t in the wrong and that it was just some huge misunderstanding. Your phone had been left unlocked on the kitchen counter, and Miles being Miles, he picked the device up and snapped a couple of stupid pictures when he saw a notification pop up.

malachi: Yo u still wit yo man? I was thinking we go get sum to eat. Lmk!

It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know that the message wasn’t from another girl, it was from a man. So he angrily swiped the device up and waltzed up to you, waving the florescent screen back in forth in your face, accusing you of cheating.

“YN, what the fuck? Why you tryna go out with this nigga, huh? He hittin’ it or sum’? Shoulda known you had me buyin’ them lil’ dresses for other reasons.”

Your shoulders dropped at him, tears clouding your unfocused vision as Miles’ words circulated in your head, swarming your conscience with emotions that you were unable to decipher yourself.

“Mami—“

“Don’t call me that.” You seethed, “It’s not what you called me when you was accusin’ me of lyin’ and cheatin’, right?”

“Ay, Dios Mío.” Miles mumbled, his footsteps filling your ears as he drew closer to you. He wanted to reach out to you, to pull you close and kiss your cheeks, but he just stood idly in front of you as he watched you cry.

It was almost like he was stuck. Guilt, maybe?

But either way, the effort was still vacant. His actions weren’t just mundane, he was shaking your phone at you angrily, spit flying and hands snapping as he tried to grab ahold of the messy situation. And what he realized what he had done, his mouth ran dry, eyes fluttering closed as he cursed underneath his breath.

What he didn’t know was that you were speaking to your friend’s boyfriend, and when he said ‘we’— he meant the four of you, Miles included. He was trying to set up a double date at a restaurant and wanted to confirm if you were with Miles to insure that you guys were on.

A stupid mistake.

A mistake so ignorant that it drove you to raise your hand at him, withdrawing it before slapping him on the cheek, hard. The sting that blossomed throughout your hand spoke of triumph, that he truly got what deserved, and your lips nearly curled into a smile when you heard him wince in pain.

You didn’t want him hurt, you just wanted him to understand what happens when you assume stupid shit. He turned around slowly to look at you, left hand massaging the flesh of his cheek as he gave you apologetic eyes.

It all feels like an emotional whiplash now.

“Get out.”

You finally spoke, lips trembling and hands balling at your sides so tight you were sure your fingers would snap.

“Baby, please, can we just talk about this?”

“Get the fuck out, Miles!” You shouted at him, body forcefully colliding with his as your hands met his shoulders, pushing him into the woodwork of your front door. He opens it without hesitation, fingers curling around the doorknob shakily as he walked through the doorway.

You hold the door and shove him, your boyfriend stumbling down the porch steps as you cock your head to the side,

“And don’t come back.”

With that, you slam the door.

It’s been three days since you’ve seen your boyfriend.

Which is extremely out of the ordinary.

He’s texted you numerous times, your phone nearly exploding from how often it rang with new texts or phone calls. You didn’t answer, you couldn’t, Miles’ words still prodding at your heart strings as you tried to go on about your morning.

Your bright pink polo slides it’s way over your head, thick curls bouncing against your shoulders as you smoothed out a tiny wrinkle at the collar, eyes picking apart your outfit in the mirror.

A flick of your wrist tells you that you’re nearly late for work, so you swipe up your phone and purse and make your way outside, strutting to your car as you drove to your shop.

You opened your own pink themed, healthy cafe a couple months before you and Miles started dating. It was a real hotspot— business booming more than ever in the hot, humid summer of Brooklyn. People mostly ordered juice or açaí bowls, which you didn’t mind because it was your personal favorite on the menu and you recommended it to anyone who waltzed into your shop.

Pulling up, you stepped out of your vehicle and opened the door, greeting your employees with a flutter of your fingers and a superficial smile painted on your face. You were broken on the inside and it was a fact that even you couldn’t deny, and no amount of concealer and fake grins could conceal that.

“Everything OK, girl?” One of your employees chirped at you over the loud sound of a blender. And you just shrugged at her, faux smile still possessive over your lips, persuasion eventually casting her spell on your favorite girls as you covered your sadness up with ‘I’m just tired.’

Opening was running smoothly, and you were calming working register when you heard the sweet bells above your front door chime.

“Welcome i-“

Your sentence fades, dying off as you see your boyfriend walk through the door, walking up to the counter that you were standing behind.

“Can I get a matcha and that toast with the green shit on it?”

You grit your teeth at him, “Miles, what the hell are you doing here?”

He didn’t say anything, he just grabbed your hands and squeezed them, “Baby, I know you don’t really wanna see me here, but I need to say sum’, and it’s that I’m sorry. Ian mean what I said, I was dumb, jumpin’ to conclusions and shit. That’s not okay. You my girl and there’s no reason why I was treatin’ you like that. I’m…mami, I’m sorry.”

Miles stares at you, waiting for your rebuttal to his formal apology. No matter how much you wanted to be mad at him in this moment and hold out, you couldn’t by the way his eyes flickered at you, licking his lips as he shot you an apologetic smile.

“Miles….” You started, “What you said really hurt me, I can’t lie to you. But…despite all of that, I forgive you. And y’know, I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have put my hands on you or nun’ like that. I was just…angry.”

“Understand.” Miles told you, kissing your hand as he gave you a cheeky grin, “I love you, pretty girl.”

“I love you too, asshole.” You giggled as your boyfriend leaned over the counter to deliver a kiss to your cheek, a couple of your coworkers giggling behind the counters, but you didn’t care. You were just ecstatic that you had made up, a laugh tumbling from your throat.

“Y’know, Miles…” You started, earning a hum from your lover.

“I just want you to know, although you be actin’ hard…you’re actually soft as shit.”

tags!: @queenesther996 // @wydney // @rinnyisnothere // @brieryann // @starhrtz // @daisydark // @randomhoex // @solanawrld // @whore4hobie // @tanakaslastbraincell // @simp4miguell // @nyrovi3 // @aziulsworld // @enchantingfoxsparkles // @mancerseedu // @cafehyunji // @personofyou // @mcdvsr // @calliarlerte // @pr0wlerpunk // @tzuyuzzs // @clearskiiiess // @vienreina // @pixqlsin // @stvrgrl // @zerosinterweb // @mookiebut // @urmotherswhor3 // @cumbermovels // @asmobeuses // @yanghees // @popeheywardssecretgf // @mxspiderman2099 // @scryarchives // @rksses // @mmst4rz // @ilyless // @milesmolasses // @laylasbunbunny // @all444miles // @thecoloredpages // @bl00dsuccker // @adoremvney // @anikaluv // @qtdenks // @art-598

Rashida Tlaib has set up a petition to send to the White House to recognize and stop the ethnic cleansing and forced displacement happening in Gaza. If you’re a US citizen please sign. I have no illusions that this will change policy, but the public outcry against their actions must continue. We will not be distracted or discouraged from continuing to object to these humans rights violations.

help im getting sucked into the avatar fandom ono…

well its too late for that, made an oc…whoops. expect some canon x oc oneshots or angst from me.

in case you couldn’t read the writing:

her name is näytle te ìviu oa’ite

she is a healer in the omoticayan clan

is the love interest of neteyam sully

a year younger than him roughly

got introduced to the sullys through lo’aks recklessness and neteyam defending his little brother

jake sees her as his daughter-figure at this point.

neytiri is just happy that there’s someone to patch her sons up

kiri is alright with her, doesn’t think too much about her. tuk on the other hand loves the idea of another sister

the art is mine! don’t repost! reblogging is fine :)

here, waiting for updates on the 999 fanfics I follow without thinking that people have to socialize, study, work, eat, go to the bathroom and sleep.

my art masterlist ✧ where i doodle my ocs + favourite characters !

metal family

sketches: — natasya solovyova completed works: — natasya solovyova

adventure time

sketches: — doodle dump 1 , the lich

blue beetle 2023

sketches: — drea tlatilpa canon & oc: — drea & jaime

avatar: the way of water

sketches: — näytle te iviu oa'ite

[12:18]

You are a steadily flickering candle in Bakugou’s dim world. He’s not gloomy or upset or tortured– no no, he quite likes the dark.

His mom has always competed with the sun. Bakugou rose first in his childhood home because beating the sun meant a few hours of peace. He wakes up slowly and heavily like he’s shifting under soil while blankets slip into the creased shapes of his body. In those first few minutes of dark the whole world is buried underground.

Now that he lives with his idiot classmates he sleeps early. Bakugou likes to pull the curtains closed as the sun sets and melt deeply into a too-soft pillow before his eyes can adjust to the dark. Making breakfast alone at dawn, training as loud as he wants to be in the gym across campus lit only by the fires of his quirk. Even at high noon he likes to shower with the lights off, for in these rare moments of dark Bakugou can finally think slowly without competition to worry about. If he lived a quieter life he might even get bored, but blessedly his friends can't spare him a sneeze in peace.

Walking through the halls is like trying to hide from fireworks. Running into Deku is as safe as watching a solar eclipse. He’s blinding and always has been; Bakugou startles every time the fucking kid flashbangs with a ‘good morning!’ or a ‘Kacchan!’ Sparkplug might as well be an electrical fire and Mina makes a blaring siren look like an insult to emergency vehicles. Kirishima is at least tolerable. He shines pink like a happy lighthouse but you still can’t look at him directly for too long.

You though. Bakugou didn’t even notice at first the way you could only be seen in periphery. In the bustle of class and patrol you stayed soft and easy to see. As noisy as the rest but not blinding. Like crouching on the beach and watching a sparkler come to life in your hand. Like polished bells.

If you woke up early enough you might catch him in the kitchen and twinkle sleepily past like a shooting star through the common room. ‘Mornin’ you’d grumble through a yawn and candlelight would peek out between your fingers when you covered your mouth.

Titling his head slightly to glance at you in class. A halo of gold outlined your body anytime he let himself linger on you like this. Sometimes he saw nothing but you illuminating the vast expanse of peaceful dark. Easier to look at but still warmer than the sun. Maybe the sun couldn’t compete. Oh jesus the sun would probably love you-

“Oi Dynamight,” you murmur.

Bakugou jumps. His cheek falls out of his hand and his elbow slips off the desk. You weren’t the radiant moon basking above rising tide– you were straddling the back of your chair lazily to chat with Uraraka behind you.

Tch, he spits and turns his head quickly towards the window instead.

Your cheek squishes onto your friend’s desk, “you look red, feeling okay?”

“Don’t get us all sick before midterms dude,” Uraraka adds.

Bakugou doesn’t get sick, your sleepy moonglow smile just makes him ache. Not like a sunburn. It’s like being too comfortable in bed for too long. Like a good stretch.

happy birthday katsuki (*ᴗ͈ ˬᴗ͈ )