#fic trope

[sambrin]

[balloonthehutt]

even when it hurts

summary: rescued from a Separatist lab by Anakin and the 501st, you wake in the medbay and confess your love to Obi-Wan.

warnings/tags: sedation, use of drugs, ANGST, hurt/no comfort, unrequited love.

trope: in vino veritas / drunk confession

pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi x reader

The world folds in on itself, a dizzying, spinning canvas of white light and shadow. Your body feels both impossibly heavy and impossibly fragile, as though you’re stretched across some impossible divide, half here, half lost in the fog of the drugs pumping through your veins. Each breath tastes metallic, sour, and alien. The antiseptic tang of the med bay fills your nose and sticks to your tongue.

A hand grasps yours. Solid, familiar, but distant in the haze.

“Easy… easy,” a voice says—careful, controlled, impossibly steady.

Obi-Wan.

You try to focus, to reach for him, but your limbs refuse. They’re leaden. They obey only partially. The world blurs, edges bleeding into one another, and your mind, slippery and liquid, teeters on the edge of comprehension.

“I… Obi-Wan…” Your voice cracks. Your tongue feels thick and strange, uncooperative. The words come out slurred, ragged, disjointed.

He leans closer, frowning. His eyes—those piercing, blue, ever-watchful eyes—scan your face with concern, hands hovering as if afraid to touch. “Don’t try to speak. Just rest.”

But the haze doesn’t care for restraint. The truth you’ve buried so carefully, the confession that has clawed at your chest for years, rises like smoke from a fire you cannot extinguish. Words escape before your mind can wrestle them back.

“I… I love you…”

The sound is thin, fragile, a whisper that trembles across the sterile room. You want to reach for him, to grab his attention, to make him understand, but your hands are heavy, your body alien to you. “Always… I always have…”

Obi-Wan stiffens, a flicker of surprise passing over his calm features. Then a shadow of worry settles there. His voice is steady but gentle, trying to tether you to reality. “You don’t mean that. It’s the drugs speaking. That’s not you.”

Your chest tightens painfully. The room tilts again, lights stretching into blinding streaks, and you feel the weight of your words, both unbearably real and impossibly meaningless. “No… I… can’t… don’t… you don’t understand—”

"No, darling, you can't. You know that." he shakes his head, stroking your cheek. Tears sting your eyes, unbidden and bitter. The world tilts again, and you want to vanish into it, swallowed by the sterile white of med bay walls.

“You… you don’t believe me,” you croak, voice breaking, a ragged whisper swallowed by the antiseptic air. Your throat burns, every word a dagger.

He shakes his head, eyes soft but resolute. “I believe you’re confused. You’re hurt. That’s what this is. But you don’t have to—”

You shake your head weakly, tears slipping down unbidden. “No… it’s not confusion… it’s… it’s me… I—”

The rest drowns in the haze, a mixture of nausea, vertigo, and despair. You close your eyes, shivering despite the warmth of the med bay, and let the weight of the drugs press you into the mattress. Obi-Wan’s hand remains on yours, firm, grounding, but it cannot reach into the storm inside you, cannot soothe the raw, bleeding ache of truth unacknowledged.

You had wanted to be seen. Wanted your heart to be known. But the universe is cruel in its timing: your confession floats in the sterile air, unclaimed, dismissed, unreal—even as every fiber of your being screams that it is not.

And so you lie there, trembling, drugged, broken, loved and unloved in the same breath, while the hum of the med bay carries on, indifferent, as if the weight of your heart matters nothing to the galaxy.

[eris-eveningstar]

Tom Riddle with an evil grin and blood splatters on his face:

Harry Potter, having just discovered something about himself: 👁️🙂

[alexjcrowley]

"Found" family? Excuse me, this family didn't serendipitously appear on my path, I made it, with blood, sweat and tears

[enemiestolovers4k]

Harry finding out he’s Voldemort’s seventh Horcrux understandably shocked and horrified:

Voldemort upon finding out Harry’s his seventh Horcrux:

[officialmiintee]

and i say!! LET! THEM! COOK! Time for some original art!

Something is definitely brewing! Looking for the most bitter angst tropes? The sweetest fluff tropes? Maybe hot and steamy tropes for some extra spice?

[o-r-d-e-r]

I need someone to write a solangelo fic based on the song ‘Friendly Neighborhood Poltergeist’ by Rory Webley !!

this song SCREAMS fanfic prompt potential

[funny---pics]

Babe wake up new AU just dropped