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irndad · 6 months

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Hi, I’m so sorry, I searched for request guidelines and must be missing them so if this isn’t something you write I apologize-

Flower prompt heliotrope with Spencer where reader sacrifices herself/or gets shot to save Maeve so Spencer can be happy, even though she’s hopelessly in love with him. 🥹

Little angst, little fluff. You can decide if reader fully sacrifices or just gets really badly hurt and how Spencer reacts.

my dear!! there are no rules yet- i have things i won't fill but thus far the onus has been on me to clarify. i had so much fun writing this- thank you for requesting it!!! requests r open :^) wc: 1.1k

“Is Maeve okay?”

It’s the first thing she says when she wakes up from her hospital bed. Spencer’s shaking, a little woozy too. It turns out that they have the same blood type, and she lost a whole fucking lot of it. He’d been happy to give it to her, although ‘happy’feels like the wrong word to use in this situation.

She had internal bleeding, and collapsed harshly from the gunshot, scuffing her forehead so badly she needed stitches. Comparatively, it’s the least of her worries, but still- Spencer can’t stop staring at it. She’s literally marred by the choice she made to protect him.

Maeve is okay. She’s in the same hospital, but Spencer’s spent about ten minutes with her- the rest of the last 12 hours of his life were spent oscillating between donating blood and praying to a deity he’s not sure exists.

She’d survived. They’d both survived. He should feel relieved- why doesn’t he feel relieved?

It’s a stupid question that he keeps asking himself. Two of the most important people in his life are alive, but still in the moment, her blood spilling over him- the gasp of her breath when the bullet hit her- He’s going to remember the sound of it forever, what it sounded like for her to almost die for someone else. He hates that she’s the type of person to do it. To jump in front of a loaded gun for a woman she’s never met before.

He’s mad at her. He has no right to be- he gets a chance with Maeve now, and that’s all due to the choice she made. And yet- he’s so, so angry at her. Because she could be dead right now. He could never, ever talk to her again. She made a choice that meant that he might have never been able to hear her voice, do a magic trick for her, ever, ever be near her again. How the fuck could she do that to him?

“Yes,” he replies, “she’s okay.”

She nods agreeably, before wincing at what appeared to be an intense ache at her temples.

“My head hurts,” she says, her voice low and endearing, and his heart roars with protectiveness. “Do you think I could have a juice box?”

She’s so sweet- he wants to laugh, in a sad desperate kind of way. This is his favorite person in the world, sitting up shakily and asking for juice, clearly groggy and so endearing. He almost lost her.

“You’re okay too,” he says, “If you’re wondering. You scared us. You had internal bleeding and a concussion. You lost a lot of blood.”

It’s only then she frowns.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” she pouts, trying to sit up and speak to him. “But it all worked out, Spence. She’s okay.”

“It didn’t all work out!” Her eyes widen at his outburst, and he feels like scum. Yelling at her when she’s in a hospital bed, taking a bullet so he’d have a chance at romance.

“You said she’s okay,” she says back, slowly. “I don’t understand.”

“You lost blood. You almost died. That is not it working out. You have to tell me you understand that.” He doesn’t know why he’s being so harsh, but he also doesn’t know why he has to explain this to her.

“I know,” she sighs, “I know. But this is the job, and I didn’t have time to get a vest on!”

“Then you wait. You wait. You don’t just burst in-“

“And you would’ve lost the love of your life!”

“What makes you think she’s the love of my life?”

A nurse shuffles by the room and Spencer takes a deep breath. He doesn’t want to be kicked out of her room, and on some level he knows how crazy it is to be yelling at a gunshot victim. He pinches his nose, eyes winced in frustration.

She’s been his favorite person by a wide margin for an incredibly long time. She joined the team as a consultant and he remembers the first time he did a card trick for her- the first time he’d fallen asleep on her shoulder. He was so grateful to know her. Still is. In this moment, knowing feels like time slipping out from an hourglass- like it was almost numbered. Their time was almost finished.

Maeve was lovely. Maeve listened and she was kind and Spencer really did like her. He’s glad she’s safe, now. But his best friend, his coworker and favorite person- Spencer thought everyone could tell that he’s been in love with the team consultant since the first week he knew her.

Everything he liked about Maeve reminded him of her.

And she’d jumped in front of a bullet for someone she thought he was in love with. And fuck, maybe he did love her in some way- but whatever ‘in love’ meant with Maeve, this sorrow, the pain of knowing she’d almost been someone he’d have to remember was far, far deeper.

“You’ve never mentioned anyone to me romantically. I’ve known you for years, Spencer. She’s important to you.”

Maeve is. She was. It’s all so confusing now. He has liked someone for years, though. He couldn’t tell her, though. Maeve was a welcome distraction from a love he thought was wholly impractical and impossible to love him back— a love that now he has to witness languish in a hospital bed.

Morgan knew. Morgan would tease him every time Spencer drew a smiley face in purple marker on her coffee cup. He would tell him to just ask her out, and it had always felt so improbable. She’d never go for someone as lanky and uncharismatic as him.

“You’re important to me.”

She has no idea how much.

Her eyes soften at that, and not for the first time, he wants to curl into her arms. He wants to lay next to her in the hospital bed, and feel her pulse beat against bare skin. Feel her pulse and with every beat know that she is alive.

“I know that, Spence,” she breathes out.

Even though it’s not kosher, not necessarily the right thing to do when your not-girlfriend/girl you went on one date with is in the same hospital, but when his best friend opens up her arms for a hug, he ends up doing exactly what he wanted.

The team finds her asleep in her hospital bed, with Spencer asleep in her arms. It feels voyeuristic to look at, but Spencer really, really couldn’t care.

He resolved to tell her that he loves her as soon as she’s healed. With the way Morgan side eyes him every time he ‘helps’ her walk across a room by holding her waist, he’s not sure he’ll last that long.

#spencer reid #spencer Reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds fanfic

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writingrock · 1 month

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a lost dream

pairing: katsuki bakugou x reader (gender neutral) summary: katsuki has been missing you a lot recently, so he decides to visit you

notes: angst, major death, mourning, hurt, slight toxicity, moving on, time skip, mentions of alcohol, traumatic flashback

word count: 3.3k

a/n: recently made a prequel to this here!

“Hey, is Dynamight in? Got some papers he needs to sign.”

“Oh.. um– honestly not sure. He’s been in and out all day. Why don’t you leave them on his desk?”

Simple enough. The office mailman wasn’t going to complain about that. It beats personally handing this to the pro hero. It’s always been fifty-fifty that the pro hero is either grumpy or decent. The man walks towards the pro-hero’s office, shuffling the stack of papers awkwardly as he opens the door with his elbow. Hoping that he opens it without making a mess. He knows he couldn't be bothered to pick them up if they did spill onto the floor. Muttering a line of prayer under his breath, his elbow sits on top of the doorknob. Pushing it down as he readied himself for the papers to fall.

Thankfully, the stack of paper remains stable. A small exhale of relief leaves his mouth as he walks into the office. Dynamight’s office is vacant and dark. Only a small section of the office is illuminated by the light seeping through the open door. Using the side of his shoulder, he manages to press the light switch to turn on. Flickering on with a low buzz, the office comes to view. The office is neat despite what one might think. Organised shelves filled with numerous documents and files with labels. Well kept and clean office space.

Yet on his desk were scattered piles of paperwork, almost as if he hasn’t been looking at any of them today. Usually even when looking at them, he’s still very tidy with them. Always keeping them in sections. Odd. The pro hero is usually diligent and retroactive. It wouldn’t make sense if he hasn’t already blazed through them. Carefully arranging the stacks of paperwork on the desk, he makes space for the new delivery of papers.

The simple office mailman continues to come up with various scenarios on why the boss isn’t here. His mind coming up with wild ideas that were pure fiction. He was about to leave when something clicked in his head. A sudden thought enters his head as he sets the papers down. "Could it be.." he sucks his breath in. Confirming his suspicions, the mailman looks at the calendar. On the wall is a well used calendar with marks and indications of deadlines and events. The ninth is circled. Suddenly, it makes sense.

“Ah.. it's the ninth of August already?”

Driving down a quiet road is a sleek, velvety red sports car, the low purr of the engine cuts through the air. Newly tinted windows hiding the identity of the driver. One hand on the steering wheel whilst the other turns off his phone completely. The screen turns black and in the reflection, you can see the famed hero Dynamight. Slinking back into the carseat, his steely gaze remains on the road. The one hand on the wheel smoothly manoeuvring the car perfectly to the road. Almost as if he’s driven through it multiple times. With a click of his tongue, Katsuki places his other hand on the steering wheel. It's as if someone was next to him, telling him to do so. But there’s no one but himself.

The roads are narrow, gently curving through the forest, the tree branches forming a natural canopy overhead. Turning his wrist to face him, his eyes peek at the time displayed on his watch. Ensuring he would be alone. Everyone had their set time when they visited you, he preferred it when he was alone when he did. Most knew this and never came by when he planned to visit you. Parking his car near your place, he gets out of the car with the bouquet he always gets for you.

Pure white lilies and purple heliotrope flowers paired with hyacinths painted with a beautiful gradient of blue and purple hues. You’ve always loved hyacinths. He also can’t forget that expensive sake he promised you. God forbid he did. If he turns up without flowers and alcohol, he probably wouldn’t hear the end of it.

Heavy footsteps crunch against the soft, damp grass. Brushing over the blades of grass with each step. The sound changes to low thuds as he moves from the grass to a stone pathing. You’ve managed to find a beautiful place to live in. The area is abundant in maple trees with well maintained stone pathways. It's well taken care of: carefully pruned bushes and manicured lawns, the grass trimmed almost perfectly. There’s an air of serenity and peace here. You’ve always said you were going to live in a luxurious area surrounded by nature. The walk to your home isn’t far and before he knows it, he’s in front of your place.

You’d go up to the door and greet him with a hug. Your same cheerful greeting that he’s grown fond of. Like usual, he’d pretend to be annoyed at you. But it’s different. Not because the two of you got into a fight where the two of you aren’t on speaking terms. Katsuki would actually much prefer that rather than the one he’s currently experiencing. Heck, he’ll deal with petty fights, dumb hypothetical questions and even your indecisiveness. He’d much prefer to have you annoy him every day of the year. All of it is better to deal with than to live in a universe where you’re dead.

You can’t hug him because you’re buried under his feet– instead of you, there is only a slender, polished tombstone.

“I’m here, Dumbass.” The usual gruffness in his voice turns soft as he places the bouquet on the base of your grave. Fresh, fragrant blooms giving colour against the cool grey slate. 'Dumbass' becoming a term of endearment for you. Around your grave, there are some recent offerings from the morning when you had other guests. Starting with the basic respects, he lights the incense, letting the thin line of smoke waft in the cool air before sticking it into the small incense holder. He gives a deep bow to greet your soul. Every year, he’d pay for a professional team to clean your grave. There wasn’t a chance he was going to let your grave be overgrown and turn into a mess. Hell would have to freeze over before he let that happen.

Katsuki is silent as he sits down on the ground, bringing out two ornate sake glasses as he pours one for you and another for him. Without a second thought, he downs the shot of sake, letting the slight burn settle in his throat. “I bought you this darn sake so you better enjoy it.” a grumble leaves his lips as he pours another for himself. Honestly, he drinks straight from the bottle but he could already hear your nagging from the grave so he stops. Putting the bottle aside, he gestures to his current outfit. His hero attire. Katsuki definitely looks incredibly out of place in this cemetery but he doesn’t give a damn. It’s for you. “You’ve always said you wanted to see my hero outfit. I can’t lie there hasn’t been a huge change but this is my most recent one. Figured you’d still want to see.” He explains as if you’re sitting next to him, “my gauntlets are probably the ones that changed the most though.”

He removes one of his gauntlets and starts to demonstrate the intricate details to his hero gear, disassembling it and reassembling it for you. Not a slightest sign of worry on his face as he expertly showcased the gauntlet. Describing each part and how it all worked together to become his weapons of destruction. You were always interested in his gear and how it worked. Finding all sorts of excuses to ask him about his hero outfit or gauntlets.

“In the future, you’d better update me on your gear.” Your voice firm as you look up at your blond haired classmate. The two of you huddled over his hero gear, inspecting it curiously. Screws and loose bits were pushed to the side neatly to ensure they did not get lost. Snaps of metal prying open filling the dorm room. Complex mechanisms on the ground, cracked open to investigate the inner workings of the gauntlet.

Why would you care about his gear in the future? You’re just being nosy. He only scoffed at your words, “I’m not doing that. It��s none of your damn business,” his hands busy reassembling the gauntlets, your head peeking from his shoulder. Katsuki did not manage to reassemble his gauntlet. He got in trouble and had to do without his gear for a week. Despite his words, he always did end up updating you on every detail regarding his gear or costuming. Usually because you noticed a difference and bugged him about it.

Slotting his gauntlet back on, Katsuki turns to point at the car parked under the maple trees. The deep, vibrant red paint gleams under the soft, filtered light that passes through the leaves of the maple tree. The polished alloy wheels had a metallic sheen to it, twinkling in the soft light. “You’re the reason I drove that damn thing here. You better take a good look at it.” Slight embarrassment laces his words as he turns away from the car. Unable to look at it. He feels like some asshole, show-off driving that car all the way here. Like some rich numbskull who has nothing better to do but show his car off at a cemetery. Who even drives a sports car to the cemetery? “I haven’t gotten those imported sports cars you used to talk about. But I’ll drive it over when I do.” Even if he looks like a lunatic driving a sports car to a cemetery.

He wouldn't have done it if not for you. Back when the two of you were classmates, you often talked to him about racing or any new sports cars that piqued your interest. Ranting about any recent races and how it was either rigged or perfect. Gushing about your favourite drivers who performed well in their races. Sometimes it wasn’t clear if you liked them for their talent or looks– honestly, it was probably a mix of both factors. Katsuki always acted like he didn’t care but he was always listening to you go on and on about them. The way you pulled magazines up to his face and essentially forced him to look at some cars. He always told you he didn’t care but it’s never stopped you from continuing your ramble. In a way, your endless talking did benefit Katsuki. Often at any event, someone eventually brings up those topics and thanks to you, he can actually chip in with a few thoughts.

“Hey– when you get loaded, can you buy a sports car and drive me around?” A loud laugh and scoff left his mouth when he fully registered your words. Katsuki could not believe you just said that. What did you think he was? His eyes stared you down in pure disbelief. “Idiot, who the hell do I look like? I’m not buying some shitty sports car and then driving you– of all people– around.” His laughter filled the dorm room as he processed your words. At that moment, he thought your brain cells burned off from training.

“Why don’t you get one yourself?” He shoots back, still recovering from the dumb question you asked. Katsuki still remembered the look on your face. The blankest expression on your face as you bluntly say, “I don’t think I’ll ever make enough money to buy one.” Katsuki remembers this as if it happened yesterday- the way he chortled at your words and used his hand to rub your scalp roughly. His fingers running through your hair as he messed it all up. Your hair ended up looking like you just got out of bed. He thought you looked cute though.

Katsuki can’t take you for a ride. But he can at least show you that in the end, he did buy one of those shitty sports cars. The wind blows past Katsuki, the palm of the wind running through his wild, dusty blond locks. Slowly, he turns back to the bottle and pours himself another shot. It’s been eight years. He’s moved on the best he can. At least he tried to. Nightmares of your death plaguing him occasionally during the month of August. They’ve gotten lesser over the years but they still occur. Detailed ones as if he was transported back to your death.

Sometimes he still asks himself if he could have saved you. The answer is no but he still lingers on the thoughts where he could have saved you. Etched into his brain is the sight of your mangled and bruised body lying lifelessly on the ground, beyond saving. Blood soaked through the rubble under your body. The air thickened with devastation and tragedy. In these night terrors, he’s always holding your body close to his, cradling your frail body as he wept. Choking through sobs as your name leaves his lips. Rocking his body slowly as he registers your death. A blank, empty stare staring down at your face. A painfully deafening ringing plays in his ears when he revisits the memory.

Katsuki doesn’t even realise how tightly he’s gripping the glass whilst the painful scene plays out in his head. A curse slips past his lips. Snapping out of it, he puts the glass aside and looks back at the erected tombstone. Your name written on the polished stone. His quivering red orbs tracing the curve of the letters in your name. Memorising the carved name on your tombstone.

Katsuki always thinks of you when he has a shit night. Memories of you entertwined with his emotions in the stillness of the night. When the weight of the world presses him down into the earth, the thought of you lightens the load even just slightly. Comfort tinged with sadness. He lays in his bed, thinking about every aspect of you. Your smile and the way you always spoke– the way you knew how to comfort him during trying times. During these nights, your absence is palpable and raw. All he wants to do is reach for your touch but you’re just a hollow space.

“I’ve started seeing someone,” he awkwardly starts, the words don’t feel right leaving his mouth, “I know you would have wanted me to find someone. Because in your own words, ‘I can’t be alone.’ .” Katsuki rolled his eyes, it was like he could hear you say that phrase again. He describes his current partner to you. Every detail from how they met and every ‘dumb’ thing he did to court her. In a soft voice, he tells you of how she’s helped him move on and learn to regulate his emotions. How she lets him lean on her whenever he requires. As well as how she dragged him to therapy. She’s the rock he can lean on and he’s also hers. He’s devoted to her, wanting to take care of her as much as he can. To protect and be the man she needs him to be. Strangely, his current partner understands how much you mean to him and respects it. Words cannot describe how thankful he is for such a wonderful partner to enter his life.

Honestly, she reminds him of your stubbornness and wit. Almost as if you sent her to find him. His special lady is probably the most understanding and strong-willed woman he’s ever met. Besides you of course. Nothing could ever compare to you though. You are the dream he lost. Probably one of the best things that’s happened to him in his life. You’ll always hold a part of his heart no matter what. Because you’ve always been that irritating stain on his heart.

Painfully, he had to admit that the number of times he’s seen you in his new lover only fills him with guilt. It should have been you. He hates it when this thought springs through his mind and all he does is bury it deep. Katsuki swears he’ll never say it out loud because it’s unfair to his current partner. He hates himself for even harbouring that thought. Guilt and disgust coils in his stomach when that thought comes up. He refuses to acknowledge such a disrespectful thought. You'd find it appalling and scream at him if he ever revealed such thoughts. Hence why he takes his time in therapy seriously and pays no mind to such thoughts. His lover deserves that at least.

Katsuki allows himself this one day every year to mourn you again and reminisce of old memories. The ninth of August is when he comes here to sit in peace and talk to you, his lover. To fall back in love with you just for one day. The rest of the year, he does not think of you– or at least he tries not to. There’s no forgetting you no matter what he does. Hours of therapy or drinking will never be able to untangle you from him. The two of you essentially grew up together, meeting in UA and going through the whole ordeal of becoming friends. Not to mention that whole messy timeline where neither of you confessed the blatant feelings you both had for each other. He sighs at those memories. A pair of fucking idiots the two of you were.

Possibly the only regret in his life is that he didn’t ask you out sooner. But there wasn’t a way for him to know he’d have such little time with you. Katsuki accepts that you’ll always linger in his life, and he doesn’t mind. He never wants to forget you. But he’s learnt that he can make space for others too. Hours pass and he sits there, talking to you. Not registering the time that has already gone by. It’s only when the sky starts to turn into a deep orange, he gets up from the floor. Cursing to himself as he dusts any debris on his pants. His low gaze stares at where your body is buried and manages to curl his lips into the smirk you loved so much.

“I’ll see you next year. Savour the rest of that sake yeah?” Katsuki says goodbye to you. Hands in his pockets as he turns away, walking back to his car. “And I know, keep two hands on the wheel.” a long drawn out sigh leaves his mouth as he automatically repeats what you always told him. When he first got his licence and drove you around, he swears that’s all you said. Coincidentally, the wind runs by the blond and gently caresses him as he leaves. As if you had taken the form of the wind to give him a peck on his cheek.

Soft sounds of his footsteps echoing as he leaves your grave. Time slows as you watch him go further and further into the distance. The engine of that sports car you’ve always talked about purring to life as he gets in. You can hear the car drive off into the distance back to the city. Presumably back home and to his new lover. It should be you right? It should have been you. Your heart swells at the sight, slinking back into your home. At least you still had the sake right?

A dry chuckle leaves your ghostly form as you take the sake. Katsuki was right about one thing, your corpse would have rattled in your coffin if he did not bring this for you. Possibly haunting him out of spite.

In this lifetime, you’re simply a dream that will never come to fruition. The only thing you can wish for is to be reborn into another universe where you are next to him tonight. You'll wait for him to reincarnate together.

a/n : i wrote this for myself but i hope yall enjoy it <3

border credits: @enchanthings & @adornedwithlight

#bakugou katsuki #mha bakugou #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #x gn reader #bnha #my hero academia #bnha bakugou #bakugou x you #katsuki bakugou #bakugo katsuki #bakugo angst #bakugou angst

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what-even-is-thiss · 1 year

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I'm putting together a collection of people turned into flowers or other plants after a weird or tragic love affair in Greek mythology because this epidemic is just getting ridiculous. Let me know if I've missed any.

Narcissus: the one everybody knows. Loved himself so much he turned into a dang flower.

Hyacinthus: Lover of Apollo that got turned into a flower after Zephyr blew a wind and made Apollo accidentally crush his skull with a discus

Crocus: Lover of Hermes who got killed in almost the exact same way as Hyacinthus but this really was on accident Hermes just accidentally killed his boyfriend with a discus and then he got turned into a flower rip

Mecon: A lover of Demeter. Dude got turned into a poppy. idk why but someone thought he should get turned into a flower to preserve him I guess

Clytia: A nymph who liked Helios but Helios didn't like her back and she was so sad about it she turned into a heliotrope flower I guess

Ampelus: Lover of Dionysus. A satyr who died while trying to ride a bull so Dionysus turned him into a vine. I'm starting to think this is a weirdly common coping mechanism for immortals.

Minthe: A nymph that was a consort to Hades. When she claimed to be better than Persephone the goddess in question turned her into a mint plant. Tasty!

Myrrha: Aphrodite got jealous that a city of people were worshipping Dionysus instead of her so she cursed the princess of the island to fall in love with her own father and have sex with him under cover of darkness without him knowing. Myrrha was ashamed of her actions and ran into the woods where the gods turned her into a tree. Out of the tree came Adonis.

Adonis: Lover of Aphrodite. Came out of a tree. Got impaled by a boar when Ares got jealous. Aphrodite turned him into a dang flower. Either Anemones or Roses, sources vary.

Daphne: Not exactly a love affair but her dad did turn her into a laurel tree to help her escape from Apollo so that's something I guess.

#roman said a thing #mythology

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cartyrs · 6 months

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My piece for ReaperZine 2023!! I wonder who left Alan this bouquet..

I designed these stickers for the physical orders as well :))

If you missed ordering a physical zine, you can still buy a digital copy here! Flowers & all their meanings below cut :)

Alan's bouquet from Eric:

american cowslip “you are my divinity”

amaranth globe “immortality, unfading love”

peruvian heliotrope “devotion”

erica “love of solitude”

milkvetch “your presence softens my pain”

balm of gilead “cure, relief”

Stickers:

Alan & Eric

dandelion “faithful to thee”

Grell

red tulip “my feelings are true / passion, love, & lust”

Othello

white jasmine “love, beauty, purity”

#kuroshitsuji #black butler #alan humphries #slingphries #the most beautiful death in the world #tmbditw #grell sutcliff #othello kuroshitsuji #eric slingby

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bitterchocoo · 9 months

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Mortals and Fools

Lyney | M. Reader

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"Love makes you break all the rules.."

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For centuries he live, never had he come across such a bright and joyful human.

He always smiles... as if he doesn't have a care in the world.

The Fae was intrigued by this, how come this human be so lively with all the things going around him? He had lived long enough to knew just how cruel the world truly is.

The world is cruel.

He had fought tooth and nail for his country, with a sword and blood on his hands. He brought his country to victory and glory. Even if it was centuries ago... the memory is still fresh in his mind, like it was just yesterday.

Filled with curiosity and interest...

He stayed.

He stayed and watch as this intriguing human does his shows. Bringing "magic" to life through his tricks and illusions.

Magic is merely a trick. An illusion. And yet some like to believe it. They see it as an escape, an escape from reality. The moment you stepped into the Opera Epiclese you entered a wonderland where magic truly exist. Where the impossible seems possible.

That is the essence of magic and entertainment.

A simple trick, a blink and you'll miss it, a flick of a wrist

It's so simple yet it's enough to catch everyone's attention and bring wonder and joy to their eyes. The way their eyes shine every time a trick is done. Quite the mesmerizing sight. It's always a joy to be able to see them.

It's the same thing with love.

"Is that what you truly believe?"

"Huh?"

"That love is just as mesmerizing and wonderful as magic?"

Lyney turned his head to the voice and saw none other than the Fae himself, [Name] [L. Name]. Living for hundreds of years, he knew for a fact that love isn't as wonderful as Lyney says it to be.

Love is cruel.

So cruel... it hurts you to your core and there's no cure for it. Therefore.. you'll continue to live with an aching heart. Forever hurting. And nothing can change that. Nothing can cure it.

"I do, yes." Lyney smiles softly as he looks at the Heliotrope on his hand, twirling it between his fingers. "It's a wonderful thing, isn't it?"

"To me it's not. You believe in the spell of this thing that you call "love." It's revolting." The Fae huffed as he crossed his arms, he sat there at the window sill as he watches the human he had learned to call friend tend to the flowers he's going to use for his show.

That's another thing he can't wrap his head around. Why the flowers? And why Heliotrope? Of all flowers? Shouldn't he be using roses?

Either way, he barely cares enough to ask.

"Revolting? Why is that?" Lyney asked, looking up from the Heliotrope to meet [Name]'s gaze. Curious as to why the Fae have such a horrible view of love. He knew that [Name] is immortal and had lived for hundreds of years, so what had he gone through to have such a point of view?

"Try as I will, I just don't understand it. Love is for mortals and fools. It never turns out quite the way that you planned it. So why do you break all the rules just for love?"

At first, he doesn't get it. Why Heliotrope? He doesn't understand the appeal, especially because Lyney's a magician. Why not roses?

It was later when he learned the meaning of the flower... it was later when the other gave him a bouquet of them... it was later when he gave it.. smiling from ear to ear... saying those sweet words to him as if he truly meant it from the bottom of his heart...

Those oh so sweet words...

Never would he thought he'll have the luxury of ever hearing him say those words and to him, no less.

At that very moment... [Name] finally knew why the magician prefers Heliotrope than roses....

Because they symbolizes devotion and eternal love.

Oh..... OH....

"'Love is for mortals and fools.'" That's what he said and he meant it with every word.

For his heart ach every time he set eyes on him. Love is cruel as it only brought pain and suffering for him. He knew that this wouldn't last and yet....

Why..?

Why must his heart beats for this mere mortal? This mere magician?

Was it the way he smiled at him? The way his eyes seems to glow brightly every time the magician saw a glimpse of him? How he laughed? How he acted? This is all so confusing to him...

"'Try as I will, I just don't understand it.'" Oh how true those words were...

He can't understand it... Love... Loving someone.. is such a foreign thing to him and what he knew... it brings nothing but pain and despair...

This won't last... none of this would last... how could it not?

Loving a mortal has always been a curse to immortals.

He'll die.

One day he'll day and [Name] could no longer see that smile of his, a smile that could brighten a whole room. Such a lovely mortal... such a lovely human... such a lovely magician... such a lovely person... such a lovely...

Lyney.

For the first few years, [Name] would always refuse to call him that... always calling him, "Human" every time. But over the years... as time passes... [Name] had grew fond of that name and therefore, start addressing him as such.

"Lyney.... My dear Lyney.."

"If love is for mortals and fools..."

"Then you can call me a fool."

"I Love You Too, My Dear Lyney."

"I'm sorry it took me this long to say it to you...."

"Your skin may not be as smooth as before... your hearing may not be as good as before... your memory... may not be as good as before.."

"....Unlike me who remain the same.."

"But similar to my never changing appearance... similar to my eternal youth..."

"My love will still remain the same... My Dear Lyney..."

#seme male reader #top male reader #x male reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x male reader #genshin #genshin x reader #genshin x male reader #genshin lyney #lyney #lyney x reader #lyney x male reader

269 notes · View notes

mistydeyes · 1 year

Text

perfumes i think the 141 boys enjoy

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summary: Scent is one of the most powerful senses, so what kind of fragrance do the 141 boys + Alejandro like on their significant other?

pairing: 141 x Reader

warnings: none

a/n - i also work for a perfume company so I've had a couple of ideas about what scents the boys like :)

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price - loves expensive, smokey scents on anyone. imagine the scents of a fresh cigar-that's what price wants in a fragrance. notes like pepper, leather, tobacco, cedar wood, and iris will make him crumble.

masculine

oud wood - tom ford notes: oud wood, sandalwood, chinese pepper

osmanthe kodoshan - maison crivelli notes: leather, tobacco, sichuan pepper, apricot, peach

functional fragrance - the nue co. notes: cardamom, iris, palo santo, cilantro

unisex

hinoki fantôme - boy smells notes: tobacco leaves, oak moss, and smoked leather

jazz club - maison marigela notes: pink pepper, rum, tobacco

lumière d’iris - veronique gabai notes: rose, iris, cedarwood, amber

feminine

baccarat rouge 540 - maison francis kurkdjia notes: jasmine, ambergris, saffron, cedar wood

cuir béluga - guerlain notes: leather, powder, vanilla

platinum 22 - floris london notes: rose, violet leaf, blackcurrant, oat, black tea

soap - woodsy, floral scents are soap's surprising pick. it brings back memories of the scottish countryside, adventuring in the woods and smelling the fresh flowers his mam had. notice notes of herbs (sage, rosemary, mint), lavender, and violet.

masculine

sauvage - dior notes: pepper, amberwood, bergamot, powder

h24 - hermès notes: clary sage, narcissus, rosewood

new york wall street - bond no.9 notes: sea kale, cucumber, lavender, ambergris, vetiver

unisex

voodoo chile - dries van noten notes: rosemary, patchouli, hemp

libre - yves saint laurent notes: lavender, musk

dirty grass - heretic notes: black pepper, lemon, hemp, violet

feminine

melancholy thistle - jo malone london notes: thistle, english ivy, cool wood

portrait of a lady - frédéric malle notes: frankincense, black currant, raspberry, patchouli

la tulipe - byredo notes: tulips, cyclamen, fressia, rhubarb

gaz - FLORAL CITRUS will make this man fall in love with you. it reminds him of a warm summer day sitting in the grass and smelling flowers. look for summery fragrances with notes of citrus, lemon, sage, and fresh herbs.

masculine

bleu de chanel - chanel notes: citrus, labdanum, sandalwood, cedar

polo black - ralph lauren notes: iced mango, lemon, tangerine, sandalwood, sage, patchouli

l'homme - yves saint laurent notes: bergamot, ginger, cedar wood, vetiver

unisex

cactus garden - louis vuitton notes: maté, bergamot, lemongrass

velvet cypress - dolce & gabbana notes: pine, lemon zest, bergamot, clary sage

eau de campagne - sisley notes: grass, citrus, herbs, jasmine, lily of the valley

feminine

brazilian crush cheirosa 62 - sol de janeiro notes: pistachio, almond, sandalwood, heliotrope, jasmine

her blossom - burberry notes: mandarin, plum blossom, sandalwood

flora gorgeous jasmine - gucci notes: mandarin, jasmine, magnolia, sandalwood

ghost - likes a light, musky scent! he loves when a scent adds to a person's natural smell (he hates sugary, gourmand scents). ingredients like musk, ambrox, pepper, sandalwood catch his eye as he pictures fresh sheets and a rainfall in a forest.

masculine

geranium pour monsieur - frédéric malle notes: mint, aniseed, sandalwood, geranium, frankincense

atlantis - blu atlas notes: orris, oak moss, violet, musk, ambrette seed

gentleman - givenchy notes: pear, lavender, patchouli

unisex

glossier you - glossier notes: pink pepper, iris, ambrette seeds, ambrox

not a perfume - juliette has a gun notes: ambergris

santal 33 - le labo notes: violet cardamom, cedar wood, iris, ambrox

feminine

missing person - phlur notes: musk, bergamot, jasmine, neroli, sandalwood

golden nectar - nest notes: florals, orchid, amber, musk

apollonia - xerjoff notes: white floral, orris butter, white musk

extra! alejandro - if ghost likes it simple and light, then alejandro is the exact opposite. he loves when he can smell someone's fragrance across the room. focus on bold fragrances with spicy notes of nutmeg, myrrh, and rum that is mixed with the gourmand of vanilla, almond, and tonka bean.

masculine

the last day of summer - gucci notes: cedarwood, cypress, nutmeg, patchouli, vetiver

bibliothèque - byredo notes: peach, peony, violet, leather, patchouli, vanilla

london myrrh & tonka - jo malone notes: almond, vanilla, myrrh, lavender, honey

unisex

tobacco vanille - tom ford notes: tonka bean, vanilla. cacao

dark rum - malin + goetz notes: anise, plum, leather, rum, patchouli, amber

tao dao - diptyque notes: sandalwood, cedar, cypress, myrte

feminine

lost cherry - tom ford notes: black cherry, tonka bean, almond

brazil aroma - costa notes: white jungle flora, orange oil, pink pepper, bourbon, vetiver, patchouli

babylon - penhaligon's notes: saffron, nutmeg, coriander, cedar wood, vanilla, cypriol

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612 notes · View notes

14dyh · 5 months

Note

#18!! I just wanna make hange jealous/be jealous

Replacement | H.Z.

Pairing: Hange Zoë x female reader Summary: Hange seems to love it when you style your hair a certain way. Content Warning: slow-burn - happy beginning, things fall apart, angst, jealousy, lots of mentions of pikuhan (because they were ex lovers on this one), doubts and insecurities, reader is mentioned as kinda feminine Word count: 3.2k A/N: sorry this took so long. it was a bit slow but i hope you'll like it, anon :)

It has been a month of exchanging letters with Hange, and a few minutes of waiting for their arrival in the dock when you spotted their figure on the ship. The bluish sky seemed to brighten as the ship drew closer, your eyes brimming with joy at once when Hange came running to you once the ship landed.

Family, lovers, and friends await, the waiting area almost filled in groups of twos or threes but all seemed to blur out once Hange filled your vision, hands around your waist as they happily twirled you around. You smile into their neck, your fingers finding their way back to the soft brown hair you longed to touch.

Hange nestled their head onto your body, their grip unrelenting as they inhaled the familiar flowery scent from your perfume that always makes them smile. "I missed you, sweetheart," they smiled against your ear.

As you walked hand in hand towards the awaiting train, you expected the heliotropes they brought out of their coat, the never-ending stories of fascinating things they encountered from their trip, and most of all the photographs and souvenirs they bought for you. But they showed you something that sent your senses frozen in both disbelief and overjoy. They fished out a small velvet box from their pocket, one that reminded you of the curtains and sheets you share at home. Your mind cannot fathom how your early morning on the train could start with a marriage proposal and an engagement ring on your finger but your thoughts failed to speak as you caught Hange by surprise through a tight embrace, whispering a small "yes, I'll marry you" on their coat before soaking it with your tears.

"Don't cry anymore, sweetheart," Hange chuckled, kissing the last few tears from your cheeks before the train stopped. "I don't like making my future bride cry, you know that."

A smile etched on your lips as you depart the train. You longed for this usual banter, their laughs, the way their eyes smile whenever they face you. Not long ago, these images plagued your dreams in a rosy film, wishing every waking for your dreams to be true. Maybe have a life where Hange doesn't have to be away from you for so long, a less demanding job perhaps? You wonder if a sudden shift would occur once you're married.

Rows of greenery grew near the embankment, the water rippling gently along the wind as you walked hand in hand. A short walk full of promises, and excited glimpses at what the future could be.

"After our wedding, maybe I'll take a week or month off from work," they would say, hand around yours. "I'll spend time making you happy. In many aspects. Would you like that, dear?"

You knew with half of your heart that they were trying to cheer you up, their fulfilling presence healing the time lost. Hange knew you enjoyed lounging at home, tending on the expanse of your garden. It felt like a perfect view, you and the flowers around you. Simple and tender, reminding Hange to purchase a camera once they returned to Marley to capture such moments.

Later that day Hange received an invitation letter. It was a simple party in the headquarters to welcome them back, along with the new Marleyan visitors.

"It wasn't such a big party, we can style ourselves then." Hange placed the invitation at the bedside table, gaze lingering on yours as you gently comb your hair.

"Say, sweetheart. Remember the way you styled your hair the last time? I think it looks beautiful on you."

Your mind recalled the way you styled your hair to their wishes. Your hands went to part your locks, fingers remembering how that style frames your face and a gentle ponytail hung on your back.

Hange's eyes smiled at you, walking over to place a kiss on your head.

"You're beautiful, Y/N," Hange whispered. Their every adoration sounded like sweet music, serenading your heart. A mellow wind blowing any doubt that would linger in your heart. They're right. You're beautiful in this hairstyle, Hange always shows you with how whenever their slender hands slip under your hair to cup your face in a loving kiss. One that sends you out of oblivion and illuminates everything.

Hange spent the night with their arms wrapped around you, their every kiss and praise sending a jolt through your skin. They would occasionally Twirl your locks around their fingers, eyes in deep rapture just by gazing at you. Their tenderness washed your worries ashore. Perhaps tomorrow you'd tell your mother about your marriage, wishing for a positive response despite knowing that you'll only come to hear a skeptical one. After all, you've only known the Commander for a few months. Tracing back your memory, has it even been eight months? You wondered. But as Hange muttered a final good night against your cheek, you were slowly rocked into slumber, dreaming of all the flowers you could place on your hair for tomorrow's party.

There was a single box that Hange refused to sort out or throw away. It wasn't taking up much space but you've always wondered if you could place it elsewhere if they wouldn't sort it out. As you pry the box open for a peek, you half wish this doesn't contain anything poisonous or preserved animals in jars. When the flap opened, you were greeted with a stack of envelopes, papers with their familiar handwriting, and most of all the fragrance of scented papers. You couldn't help but flip through the letters. For sure, they weren't old Survey Corps reports so you decided to look more closely and read.

Words of adoration, of longing, of intense feelings in the neat curls of Hange's handwriting. Your heart would have throbbed in happiness if it weren't for the dedication that wasn't for you.

To my beloved Pieck,

Your eyes read through, traveling around the very few photographs attached to the letters. There was Hange, smiling with a happy glint in their eyes as they held a woman with a familiar face. Of course, you know her, you might not have known her fully but you've seen her face several times. You always remarked them to be soft ones that fit her face perfectly.

It has been more than a year since Pieck and Hange broke up. It was peaceful departing from each other, you never heard a terrible word about her from Hange or their friends. If not, you heard how much Hange loved her.

You felt terrible for the tears welling in your eyes, of the heaviness weighing your heart whenever you looked at Hange's delighted smile frozen in the photograph. You wondered if you've made Hange smile in such a way if their eyes ever sparkled with just the thought of you. Looking at it for longer only creates a crevice within your heart, one that is enough to let doubtful thoughts in. You were about to seal away this box of memories once more when your eyes caught upon something. You briefly gazed at your reflection and back to the photographs Hange and Pieck shared. For a brief moment, you tried to deny it but your eyes couldn't help but gaze at how Pieck's hair frames her face, a ponytail tied low on her back. Her usual style ever since she met Hange, but the way it mirrors the way your hair currently looked pricked your heart where it doesn't feel right.

The way your hair was tied looked very similar to hers and it almost appeared like you copied her. You loosened a few strands, tucking or siding it differently in an attempt to rid of the image. However, your little fussing stopped abruptly as you heard Hange's footsteps near the room.

"You getting ready for the party, sweetheart?" they asked casually, opening their cabinet to choose from the suits they picked earlier. "D'you think a red tie would look good on me?"

Their lighthearted tone only indicated that they didn't notice you hastily shoving the box back to its original position. "I think it looks good on you, Hans," you remarked before standing up to smoothen your clothes.

They turned to you with a smile, running a hand through your hair in a way that the strands fell over to their original style despite your attempts to change it. "Get ready now, Y/N. I'll be waiting outside the bedroom."

Momentarily, you were snatched away from the terrible thoughts plaguing your mind. Hange's eyes remained on yours, never failing to tell you how beautiful you looked in that party. You stand out in a way, they said. Maybe it was the quaint old-fashioned dress, or the soft flowers adorned in your hair. However, you couldn't help but feel like everyone looked a different shade of elegant, synchronised almost as you called it.

You shared drinks with Hange, found new acquaintances, and were congratulated by Hange's friends for the upcoming marriage. Those were enough distractions to stray your mind away from the hairstyle you kept to please Hange or the way your eyes caught Hange greeting Pieck who arrived at the party. Sure, it was just a friendly greeting, nothing should be sour between them since they parted ways on good terms. But for a brief moment, you remembered the glint in their eye from the photograph kept in their box. Their smiling eye that sparkles.

It didn't help that when you fully turned in Pieck's direction, her hair was styled the same as yours, except for the flowers adorned in your head. You nibbled on your lip as you tried to avert your gaze, focusing on the swirling drink at hand or how cold the room was. Realizing you were in no position to protest or feel bad only weighed the situation. This was her hairstyle first. Hange was hers first.

You set the drink down quite loudly as if the sound would scare your thoughts away. You tried to depart from your seat but decided against it. However, you knew you were bound to converse with people eventually. Otherwise, you wouldn't have found yourself facing Pieck at one point in the evening.

"You look beautiful, Y/N," she praised you. You only gave her a soft smile in return even if your mind protested and desperately wished she hadn't said a thing.

The terrible dam you tried your best to keep broke within a nudge, like wounds stitched healed being delicately sliced open once more. You've doubted yourself enough the moment Hange slipped that ring on your finger. It felt like a hasty marriage, an opportunity for things to go awry from one simple mistake. You never thought you deserved to be a part of this marriage but you shoved the many possible hindrances at the back of your head when you happily agreed to it.

And even if you think that you never deserved Hange's love, you vowed to spend more than half of your life trying to deserve it. If that's how it should be, then so be it.

In selfish terms, it had to be you. You had to be the one they chose to keep their heart. Their choice was very evident with the ring on your finger and yet... you couldn't help but trace back to the love they shared with Pieck more than a year ago. Haven't they lasted a few years together before breaking up?

Such love couldn't rot in over a year, such deep roots couldn't be unearthed by a new love shared just because you came.

The box was there for a reason. Hange could never throw out their memories, no. Not entirely.

This is one of the things your mind could understand but your heart wouldn't.

Hange didn't like how silent you were on the ride back home, always looking out the window and never facing them. Your silence and the heaviness within disturbed them, but Hange sensed your fragility in those minutes. That perhaps touching you would shatter you into a million pieces.

You excused yourself to the bathroom as soon as you stepped out of the vehicle, the hair on your face getting disheveled by the second. Your anger within had no place but yourself. You couldn't be angry with Pieck when she's been kind the whole time, and you couldn't find yourself angrily accusing Hange of purposely making you style your hair like their ex-lover would when you were never sure if they did.

Before you knew it, your hands found the scissors lying near the sink. Your hands snipped away the hair framing your face, silent tears pouring out of your eyes as your gaze fell down the uneven clippings and severed petals littered across the sink.

The clippings felt like a sinister offering traded for peace. Maybe cutting it off was the only way to get rid of the image prompting those terrible thoughts.

She looks perfectly elegant, jeweled simply, and you're a woman with no rank in the military and flowers tucked in her hair. Pathetic.

Your fists clenched the sink once again, struggling to pull yourself from the deep pit being created beneath your feet. Vines seemed to grow below the ground, pulling and ushering you in wicked silence to give in. Give in.

“Y/N.”

You partly registered how the door opened and how Hange’s arm wrapped around you in protection, the phantom vines dying right at their touch. Hange held you as they knew it was the only way to keep you from falling apart. You were a dejected being, a mess of some kind in the mirror. All of a sudden, your hair doesn’t seem to be that soft or your dress to be that pretty. You sobbed on Hange’s chest, burying your face in their coat the way you did yesterday at their proposal.

Hange ran a finger on your hair trimmed haphazardly, brushing away the rest of the flowers strangled by the strands.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” Their eyes fell on the clippings on the floor, and the abandoned scissors on the sink. “Why did you do this?”

I don’t want to feel like a replacement anymore, you wanted to sob out. I don’t want you to remember her when you look at me.

“Do you want to marry me to forget her?” The question slipped from your mouth even before you could stop yourself.

“What…?” Hange muttered, the realization only beginning to sink in when they ran a hand through your hair, provoking a sense of familiarity. Hange understood by now who you meant.

“It’s just that… I’m having my doubts, Hange,” you said slowly, trying not to break into a pitiful voice. “Our marriage, and the box you kept under the bed… I know I sound ridiculous but… I want to hear it from you.”

Your eyes finally dared to meet theirs as you spoke, “Why do you even want to marry me?”

It was Hange’s turn to trace back into a phantom calendar in their head. It has been several months since you went out together and for half of those months, Hange has always intended to give that ring to you. Always in their pocket even a month before they went for the trip, waiting for the right opportunity until it presented itself yesterday. Hange feared your rejection. After all, it has only been months but… Hange have their own reasons.

Hange began to stroke your hair, slipping their fingers now and then to smooth out the tangles as they spoke.

“I thought maybe we still got to spend a few more months, hell, even years to know each other but... Y/N, you know I'm getting older, and time, well... time has been getting rougher. It was never kind to me... to us. I barely see you when work demands it. And I... I didn't even expect you would be happy to marry me.” A soft smile etched their lips at the memory of yesterday that brought relief in their heart.

"Y/N, it would break my heart if you misunderstood my intentions so let me clear it up this time. I'm not marrying you to get over Pieck or to secure a marriage so you won't leave me... It's just... I've never been so sure about anything in my life but this... "

Hange pressed a kiss on your forehead, their own tears teetering at the edge of their eye.

"I don't know what the future holds for me. And part of me doesn't even want to know because it terrifies me sometimes.

"We live in such a dangerous world. From my line of work, it's easy to anger people and have them take me out instead of resorting to peace. You see, Y/N... I just want to make sure... Make sure that I did something from my heart. Something I would never regret. "

A smile lifted in their lips despite their tears, and inner sorrow by the reality you both live in. You wanted to curse yourself for thinking that you both have all the time in the world. It was a wishful dream that only hurt you in the end. Your chest throbbed from the strained sobs erupting within you but Hange managed to calm you little by little by rubbing your back.

"People think that I understand things enough to have everything under control but I'm... I'm also full of uncertainties. I don't even know if half of the decisions I've made in my life were right,” they continued.

Hange circled a thumb over your hand, the other grazing the beading tears in your cheeks.

"So I'm giving myself this chance to act upon one thing I'm certain about." Hange's lips met your forehead once more, the tears from their cheek brushing against yours as they held you tight. "And that decision is marrying you, Y/N..."

You wanted to thank them for many things, for driving away all the worries nestled in your heart, for being someone to cry on, and for all the trust they placed on you the moment they vowed their heart and life to you.

"I love you, Hange…”

I’m sorry.

They chuckled, a soft one coming from their chest as they kept holding you. It amused them that a month ago, they would only hear your i love you's in their head as they read them from the letters you exchanged with each other. It always sounded better coming from your mouth.

"I love you too, Y/N,” Hange smiled. “From that day I saw a few daisies tucked in your hair, I knew I'd give you a ring someday..."

"But that's our first date, isn't it?" you asked.

"Oh, I know," they laughed softly. "I remember that day like a photograph."

Often, living in a cruel world seemed like a life carved out of pain and infinite regrets, brought by never-ending doubts born from such a distrustful world. But with Hange’s every touch, and every word laced with love, the dreadful pit making a home through the atrocities within yourself gradually vanished, smothered by the affection Hange gives.

You sat by the garden where the heliotropes Hange knew you loved grew. They carefully trim your uneven hair the way one trims a plant during growing seasons. Your kiss of gratitude brought a smile to their lips as they ran a hand over your hair once more. They think of you whenever blossoming heliotropes face the sun.

“You’re beautiful, Y/N.”

119 notes · View notes

lightasthesun · 2 months

Text

Happy Disability Pride fellow spoonies!

As always: mind the tags!!

Push through (until you break) by @guildofscribes

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Memories awash with colour by QuickSilverFox3

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“It really doesn’t bother me, my dear,” Obi-Wan lied through his teeth, struggling to sit upright on the bed in the medbay after his most recent injury. His arm was in a sling so he couldn’t sign, and Cody could see the frustration in his eyes with every instinctive move to lift his arm, “I have spent years not hearing, it is as much a part of me as my lightsaber is, it’s part of who I am. Yes, my implant allows me to hear and yes, sometimes I do miss the voices of my loved ones, but I am used to it.”

“But you shouldn’t have to be,” Cody signed as he spoke, letting out a sigh, “you chose to get the implant for a reason, to have the choice to hear. And that choice has been taken from you.” “You do not need to worry about me, dear,” Obi-Wan said, reaching out with his uninjured hand to place it on Cody’s knee.

Cody just shook his head and smiled sadly. “I always worry about you, cyare.”

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[Or: many decades after the successful ending of the Clone Wars, Obi-Wan is still struggling, in ways both old and new.]

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“And there are some, like me,” Obi-Wan said, voice softening against his will, “who relapse. And relapse. And… and it never quite leaves. I’m afraid I’m rather susceptible to the kind of emotional distress that the flowers thrive in. There is so much love to be had in the galaxy, and I can’t help but… even when it hurts. Perhaps especially when it hurts. I let it get ahold and it’s chronic at this point. Even if I never loved again, I will always have… this.” He spread a hand over his own chest and already, he could feel the stuttering slip of petals and leaves threatening. He kept his breathing slow and shallow, and the threat passed—for now.

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“Really,” he said, to underline the point, because Poe was looking a little doubtful. “I’m in no rush here. Whatever you want to do, or not do, is fine. I’m just...enjoying spending time with you.”

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Luke reached for Poe's hand where it was drumming restlessly on the tabletop, and squeezed it reassuringly. "Find out together?"

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He’s sitting in his chair, legs turned irreparably inwards leading to knobby knees covered by a loose blanket. The cannula in his nostrils is slightly crooked on its way to the tank attached to his chair. There are pale purple circles under his eyes, and wrinkles wear at his skin around his eyes and his nose. His hair, stringy with sweat, drapes against his pale forehead. His lopsided smile rests on chapped lips, and his hands are lightly trembling where they hover over his lap.

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if it's quite alright by piqu3d

Oneshot | 2.2K | Obi-Wan & Leia (minor codywan)

“Obi-Wan,” Cody’s voice filters from the cracks between Leia’s fingers, and Obi-Wan wants to sob. His heart keens at the phantom touches on his shoulders and around his waist as he listens to Cody’s steady, low voice. “Obi-Wan, it’s alright.”

A forced chuckle rips its way from behind his teeth. “Alright, is it?”

Cody’s response is a buzz over the wireless connection: “It’s going to be. You have Leia. Fulcrum and her charge are alive. Just breathe, Kenobi.”

Not Her by dieFabuliererin

Chapters: 23 | 76k | Ahsoka-centric | Padmé/Anakin (Obi-Wan & Ahsoka & Anakin & Cast)

A white-hot warning flashes through the Force, and Ahsoka jumps to the rooftop without hesitating. Whatever Obi-Wan's reason for not defending himself, she can't allow the sniper to kill him. She wouldn't be able to live with herself.

Incapacitation by whitchry9

Oneshot | 3K | Obi-Wan & Stim (medic oc) & Cody

Neuromuscular incapacitation: the disruption of nerve and muscle function by a targeted electrical stimulus.

Or, Obi Wan gets shocked repeatedly, and the aftereffects are... many.

Speak No Word (Hear No Sound) by TemporaryUniverse

Oneshot | 6K | Obi-Wan & Ahsoka and Anakin and Boga

Ahsoka wasn't sure what she was getting into when she was assigned to Master Kenobi and sent to the front lines. She didn't even know he was deaf.

Being captured together gives them the chance to get to know each other a little more. For better or worse.

dancer in the dark by catboydogma

Chapters: 3 | 10K | Cody/Obi-Wan & Dooku & Anakin

“Fuck,” Obi-Wan said. “Anakin, what’s Bly’s last name?” Anakin blue-screened for a moment. “Uh…”

“Fuck,” Obi-Wan said again, sliding ungracefully off the boards with a thump and putting his back to the door. “Is that—tell me that’s not Bly’s father, Anakin.” Good God, he’d never live this down.

“No,” Anakin said after a moment squinting first at the door, then Obi-Wan. A tangled mess of sound was echoing through the room as the newcomers greeted Bly and vice versa, all deep voices with light accenting—Māori, Obi-Wan remembered, slightly giddy. It was a Māori accent, because—“That’s his brother,” Anakin told Obi-Wan. “Cody—”

“Cody Fett,” Obi-Wan said, clutching his cup a little tighter and steadfastly refusing to look over his shoulder. “He’s brothers with Cody Fett, former Olympic gold medalist and—oh, God.“

#in true spoonie fashion this took me two weeks instead of two days #lol #star wars fic recs #codywan fic recs #usernobie #disability pride #disability pride month #disabled Obi-Wan Kenobi #disabled Ahsoka Tano

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