#Or it's probably unrequited love

[hiso03]

halbarry but the "your the sun, you've never seen the night" part from your best american girl by mitski (further putting my barry's the sun and hal's the moon point)

It's such a cute analogy that I definitely love to make.

I know at first glance it might seem like Barry would be the night and Hal would be the day, but definitely, Hal would be the night and see Barry as the day. Because to Hal the day is bright and beautiful, it's everything he's ever wanted to be. Sure the night is dazzling and has many people in love with him, but the night is madly in love with the day, despite knowing that the day could never look at him.

And Hal aches to know that his day (Barry) could never look at him because he's not worthy of him, but still, despite not being someone important, smart and being a constant failure as he probably looks. He would be willing to do anything to make her day well and happy, even if it means he could never be by her side.

Hal doesn't care if Barry never gets to look at him with a fraction of the love he feels for Barry, he just wants Barry to hear the song of the birds, that song that he night in and night out strives to sing so that Barry will always know he is loved even if he never knows why.

Because the way Hal shows love is with small acts that in the eyes of many seem simple and stupid, but that make that person feel special. Because he would like to someday feel just as loved.

Hal knows that Barry's friends would never approve of their relationship, and he understands them even though it hurts.

But Hal knows he is not worthy of Barry's pure love and will always settle for being the night he admires the day, unable to reach him, but wishing in his heart of hearts that someday the day might realize the song he loves so much is Hal who sings it every night thinking of him.

[bloomyblemy]

Ok what if…

what if the demons thought that lbh’s a husband snatcher?

listen ok so I’m pretty sure the demons know that LBH’s keeping a dead body in his room BUT they also know that the war god is fighting for said body right?

now I find it funny if they think that LBH just took LQG’s dead husband and the war god is trying to get him back.

there are opposing sides to this one on LQG’s (‘he literally stole the dead body of his husband!) vs LBH’s (‘ maybe THE WAR GOD killed his husband how could you know?!’)

[yashley]

imogen & fearne in c3e106

[nevertheless-moving]

I wrote it. They ask.

"So you're essentially an expert on honor, right?"

Kaladin blinked at Shallan, unsure what to make of the question. The three of them had finished eating, and had moved to a smaller, shared table for drinks, secluded from the rest of the building by a hazy curtain. The conversation had been drifting lazily from the city's latest scandals to squire hijinks.

"What?" Kaladin finally said, slightly confused at the abrupt change of topic.

"Of course you are, you're the first person chosen by an honorspren in thousands of years!" Adolin said enthusiastically.

"I mean—"

"And you always figure out the right thing to do!" Shallan said.

"That's definitely not—"

Adolin nodded. "Never murder anyone in cold blood, even when they deserve it."

Kaladin sighed heavily. "Where are you two going with this?"

Shallan coughed into her freehand. "Well, you see, we've been having a little debate about...honor."

"And we were hoping you could settle it. Impartially," Adolin said, tone serious.

Kaladin squinted at him. There was something off about his expression. "Can't you ask Syl?"

Syl was meeting with some of the honorspren with newer bonds tonight; she had insisted that she could handle it on her own, and that he should take the night off, but he was sure she would be happy to switch places to come by and give her opinion on other people's business; that was practically a hobby for her. He wasn't sure sure where pattern was, come to think of it; he hadn't heard him buzz in a while.

"Actually we did!" Shallan said brightly.

"She was our first choice, no offense," Adolin said. "I don't think she entirely understood the dilemma."

"It's a bit too, well, human." Shallan took a large sip of her wine, emptying the glass, but didn't waive over a server for more.

Kaladin felt dread start to coil low in his stomach, the fragile relaxation of the evening starting to slip away. "...I'm going to regret hearing about this, aren't I?"

Adolin leaned towards him, turning wide, pleading eyes his direction. "Please, Kaladin?"

Shallan matched him. Stormfather. Not so long ago ago, lighteyes looking at him like that would have filled him with derision at most. What had happened to him.

"Fine." Kaladin leaned back in his seat, giving in. He was a little curious, even though he knew he wasn't going to be happy with whatever he was about to hear. "What is it?"

Shallan straightened, as if to give a presentation before the Queen. Storms, I have a really bad feeling about this.

"Well, as you know, I'm a lightweaver, and can change mine or someone else's appearance, such that they exactly resemble another. I can also create an illusion, so that it appears that an individual is present, when in fact, they are not."

"...Yes?" Was Shallan nervous? Adolin didn't kill another highprince, did he?

"Now, obviously, practicing lightweaving by pretending to be someone else, when done entirely in private, I mean just me, myself, and I, practicing my radiant abilities, can't possibly be dishonorable."

"I guess?"

Adolin leaned forward now, one hand gesturing sharply. "But what if I'm there? I mean, no ones suggesting that it would be acceptable for Shallan to assume a specific private individual's form in public."

"Unless it's to save lives," Shallan said.

Adolin nodded. "Unless of course it's to save lives."

"Or as part of my crown assigned radiant duties."

"Or that, can't forget to mention that."

"Or with said individual's consent."

"Naturally, consent makes all the difference."

"Quite a few shades of grey."

"Truly, once you think about it. Infinite nuance."

Kaladin pinched the bridge of his nose, scowling to keep from laughing. "Did you rehearse this?"

Shallan waved her hand in his face, forestalling any other objections. "In any case! Would we be disrespecting an individual, let's call this person 'Lin' for short, would we be behaving dishonorably towards Lin, were I to assume Lin's form, or have Adolin assume Lin's form, or have Lin appear while both of us are present, soley within the privacy of our chambers?"

Kaladin waited a few seconds for Adolin to chime in, but he just continued staring intently at Kaladin.

"...This is about Lyn?"

"No, not Lyn, Lin," Shallan corrected primly. He could just barely make out a difference. "Neutral born unto. Just, we don't want to say her — say their name specifically, but I thought saying 'the individual' would get unwieldy."

Ok, probably not about Lyn. Unless they're using a confusing fake name to make me think that. He started to feel a throbbing at the base of his skull.

"Is there some specific reason you want to look like... Lin?" He dropped his voice slightly, rubbing his temples. "Is it for a practical reason? Or do you want to make fun of her — them?"

"Definitely not to make fun of them!" Adolin said, voice dropping to match Kaladin's.

"Many people would consider it flattering," Shallan whispered. "For their form to be assumed in this specific context!"

"We're just not certain if Lin would think that, and we're worried that it would be worse to ask."

"So we decided to ask you instead, since again, you're —"

Kaladin waved a hand at her before they could jump into another bizarre routine. "Honorable, yes, whatever, fine. I get it."

Adolin put a hand on his arm, expression earnest. "Look. If you think we should just directly talk to Lin then we'll do it. We just...don't want to embarrass them, or hurt their feelings in someway. We genuinely aren't sure how they would react, and I mean. You don't have to ask someone's permission for thinking about them, but this is a step up from that, and it's not like there's many people who have had the option, so...hence the uncertainty, and asking for a neutral, completely unconnected, third party opinion."

"Alright, I...guess that makes sense? In an extremely weird way." Kaladin looked between the two of them. Shallan's expression was open and honest, but unfortunately that didn't mean much. Adolin was earnest, but there was something weird about his posture. Guilty? Excited? "But why do you want to see a lightweaving of Lin in private so much?"

Shallan pretended to take a sip out of her empty glass. "I assume you can guess, bridgeboy. Is it really necessary for us to say it aloud?" She had just a hint of red staining the tops of ears, but she colored easily. It could just be the alcohol.

"I really don't know," Kaladin said, baffled. "Is this a lighteyes thing? Like you want to, I don't know...model fashion on them?"

"Ooh." Adolin suddenly looked far too eager. "That's actually not what we were thinking."

"I didn't think it was a lighteyes thing," Shallan said. "But I suppose it could be. I don't have a significant enough sample size to presume." That was clearly a joke there that Kaladin didn't get.

Adolin cleared his throat. "Well." He made another sharp motion with his hands, letting Kaladin go. "As you know, Shallan and I are married."

"Yes, I was at your wedding," Kaladin said dryly.

"We are married," Adolin repeated, talking over him. "And that comes with certain... duties and privileges."

"Among which—" Shallan was definitely blushing now. "—and I suppose this could be considered an, ah, 'lighteyes thing,' is well. The need to create an heir."

They can't possibly be asking me this. Kaladin looked desperately to Adolin, but the man just gave him a sheepish, apologetic grin.

A small part of Kaladin curled up and died.

Blood Of My Fathers.

"No," Kaladin said. "Absolutely not. You are not asking me about something to do with your sex lives."

"You see," Adolin said. "I know you've said you don't have interest in, well, any of that. But for many the process of creating an heir is not just—"

"ARGH." Kaladin threw his arms up, crossing them over his head.

"— a responsibility but a pleasure which—"

"Almighty's Tenth name!"

"—can be performed creatively—"

Kaladin pressed his head to the table, burying himself in his arms to hide his too warm face and probably disgusted expression.

"Stop. Please. Stop." He knew he was whining in a way ill befitting a Windrunner of his Ideal, but the booth they were in was private, and Adolin and Shallan had seen him in far less dignified circumstances.

"Sorry," Adolin said, patting him on the shoulder. "Just wanted to make sure you understood."

"Well I don't!" Kaladin said, looking up but not lifting his chin from his arms. "And I don't storming want to! Why can't you just look like yourselves! I thought you liked how each other looked! I've literally caught you drooling!"

Adolin frowned. "I don't drool, bridgeboy."

Shallan's face was nearly as red as his face felt, but her expression was significantly more gleeful. "I…there may have been one sparring session I observed…that may have generated a small amount of moisture."

Adolin cocked an eyebrow, and smirked. "Moisture, huh?"

"I hate you two," Kaladin lied emphatically.

"Sorry, Sorry." Adolin patted him on the shoulder again. "So? What do you think?"

"I think Rlain is right and its a storming miracle humans have managed to accomplish anything when most of us are permanently stuck in mateform."

Adolin heaved a dramatic sigh. "About our question, Kal, come on. We know you don't like talking about this stuff but that's exactly why we needed your opinion! You're unbiased!"

"And honorable, yes you said. Have I mentioned before that the rewards for being honorable blow?"

They turned twin pleading expressions toward him and he caved immediately. Storms, he had gotten weak. "Battar and Shallash, fine," he snapped. "Fine, give me a minute, alright. Just stop talking. "

The two waited, Shallan only opening her mouth to make a joke twice, Adolin successfully nudgeing her quiet each time; Kaladin lifted himself up, elbows on the table and head in his hands as he looked down, forcing himself to actually give it serious consideration. Wait, I thought Veil was the one who was attracted to women. Oh. Right.

"Alright," he finally said. "I get that people can't always help what they...think about. That's fine. And I also know that trying not to think about something sometimes makes people think about it more, so."

Adolin and Shallan nodded. "You have no idea," Adolin said. "Seriously, I love Shallan, I've absolutely tried not looking at other women's — anyway. It's so much easier to just forgive eachother the occasional wayward glance or errant thought." They squeezed each others hands.

Kaladin sighed. "Right. Sorry if I came off as judgemental."

"No, no, you've made it very clear that you don't like talking about such things, it's completely reasonable to be unhappy. We are sorry for the times we...overshare in front of you."

"It's fine," Kaladin said curtly. "Really. I know you try. Anyway. I also understand that people sometimes, er, fantasize. That way. About things or people they don't actually want in real life. And. Uh. Sometimes people... act that out."

Kaladin stared determinedly at the table, face hot. There was a swirling pattern in the marble that he hadn't noticed before.

"You do?" Adolin said, sounding surprised.

Kaladin coughed. The swirling pattern kind of looked like a river, viewed from above. "There. Might have been an incident, early on in the army, when I heard a couple and, er, overreacted slightly. They took the time to explain things in... painful detail. It's fine. None of my business."

"That's. Very open minded of you," Shallan said, sounding slightly strangled. "Tell me, when the couple was explaining things — oof." Kaladin didn't look, but he was fairly sure Adolin just stepped on her foot, something he was infinitely grateful for. It had been an extremely mortifying lesson. The pair had said they weren't mad about being interrupted, but he was fairly sure they were lying, considering how much detail they went into in their explanation.

"Honestly, the whole...dressing weird, or calling eachother names or using ropes or whatever—"

Adolin made a choking noise. Kaladin kept looking at the little river pattern in the table. If he squinted there were mountains and farms too.

"—all that stuff isn't more or less...unappealing. To think about. Then just regular sex." Kaladin paused. "That is not permission to talk about that sort of thing with me. Please don't share anything about your sex life with me, ok?"

"Of course!"

"We know."

"So," Kaladin continued, rubbing his cheeks to try and get rid of the blush. "Wanting someone isn't breaking your vows. Neither is thinking about them. Probably talking about them is fine too."

He ran his finger along the small river in the polished stone. He could practically feel two sets of light eyes drilling a hole in him.

"My concern, of course, would be for Lin. If playing around with their image would affect the real person. My main concern is it will impact the way you two interact with them."

"If we thought it did then we'd stop immediately," Adolin swore without prompting. "The real person matters far more than our...baser feelings."

"Absolutely," Shallan agreed softly. "We truly don't want to hurt them. That's why we've been struggling with this."

"I believe you," Kaladin said, scrubbing a hand over his face. "Alright, so you've already been...thinking about them, while together, and it hasn't impacted your interactions with the real person."

"No!"

"Trying not to think of them that way was worse," Adolin said ruefully. "I am...fairly sure they have not noticed any feelings on my part, and even if they had they've ignored them very politely so...like I said, if messing with lightweaveing changes that, we'll stop right away, but I don't think it will. We know who they are."

Kaladin studied the marble some more. He was pretty sure he had flown over somewhere in Alethkar that looked a bit like that riverbend, but he couldn't remember where.

"You cannot do this anywhere someone could possibly see or overhear," Kaladin said, looking up to make brief, serious eye contact with each of them. "Not visiting another city. Not where guards or servants could overhear, even trusted ones. Not in the duelist preparation chamber — yes I know about that. Not while exploring the less used parts of the city — yes, I heard about that too. Not in your sitting room or against the door, where someone passing by could overhear. Just in your own bedchamber, door locked."

"That sounds reasonable," Shallan said, flushing but solemn.

"Very reasonable," Adolin agreed, nodding sharply.

Kaladin grimaced, looking back down at the table. "I think...while part of me says you should ask Lin directly...that also sounds somewhat humiliating for everyone involved. I mean, again, it's more similar to thinking about someone than anyone else, and even if they were, er, flattered... It's not like you would actually be able to sleep together anyway, with your marriage oaths, so it would be a moot point."

"...Right," Adolin said unconvincingly. Kaladin decided not to think about that.

"So... it's alright?" Shallan said hopefully. "With those conditions? Not dishonorable?"

Kaladin forced himself to look up again, and immediately regretted it. They both looked far too eager.

"Not dishonorable," he sighed, closing his eyes and leaning back.

"Thank you!" Adolin said, with way too much passion.

"Thank me by never speaking to me of this again, and never asking me anything like this for the rest of our lives."

"Yes to the first one, no promises to the second," Shallan said gleefully. "Well. Now that we've discussed that matter, how about we get back to talking about—"

"Leave. For the love of all that is good, please leave," Kaladin begged, not opening his eyes. Shallan took advantage of this by kissing him lightly on the cheek. Adolin hugged him from the other side.

There was the sound of spheres tossed on the table and rapid movements, and then they were gone.

Kaladin opened his eyes, shaking his head. One of them had knocked over a glass in their haste to leave. They had, of course, left a small fortune to pay the bill.

He left the winehouse feeling...bemused mostly. Maybe he'd go find Rlain and they could gripe about humans and mateforms together. He would probably not make eye contact for Lyn for the next week, even though he was fairly sure they were talking about Isnah or Beryl. Best not to guess. He kicked off from the ground, the rush of wind immediately clearing away discomforting thoughts or lingering stress of the day.

He smiled, speeding up and feeling his heart race with the exhilaration that only the sky could bring, with no pressing meetings or appointments to get to. Syl had been right. It was good to take a night off every now and again.

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 115

Jaskier thinks of Geralt as the ocean. Geralt is the ocean, and Jaskier is a fish. Jaskier cannot live without Geralt, but the ocean weeps not for a single fish. The ocean is full of fish, it can just look to another fish, if this one fish died or left. But that fish can't leave the water without losing itself. It'll suffocate from the lack of the waves. The touch of the cool sea. But no ocean needs a fish in order to breathe. Geralt thinks of Jaskier as a flower. Jaskier is a flower, and Geralt is a flame. He longs for nothing more than to touch him, but all it would do is burn the flower. The flower gets hurt, no matter what the flame tries. Tendrils of fire and billows of smoke, as the flower withers sadly. Thus the flame watches the flower from afar and admires it from the distance. The flower entangles itself with the garden, and the flame protects the flower with it's own solitude. Yennefer thinks of Jaskier as a dumb gay rat. She also thinks of Geralt as a dumb gay rat. She wishes dumb gay rats stopped staying over at her house.

[dreadark]

i need to make fun of ivan constantly because if I seriously think about his situation for too long I’ll cry. wym he never even thought he was friends with till. Do you think he’d cry if till hugged him

[diasyu]

Sun x moon but unrequited love. Sun x moon in the sense that we are planets apart, and I am cursed to forever orbit around the same planet forever. Yet, the only reason I’m seen is because of you, the only reason I’m still living is because of you. You give me light, unaware of how bright you shine. If I were to get any further from you, I would shrivel up and die, and if I get any closer to you, I would burn painfully in your light. So I’m fine with this, I have to be fine with this.

[rottentiger-art]

I love the way Colin says "it is everything I've been wanting to say to you for weeks", enunciating with his words and expression the last part, as if to say "can you imagine how painful this has been for me". I know he felt like a fool days later when she lets him know she has been loving him for years

[honeypleasejustkillme]

am i ur favorite? i am arent i? i have to be ur favorite.. tell me i’m ur favorite

[cloudysonder]

BirdRick: Trust, Home, and Return

Rick C137 meets BP at a rough point in his life--his wife is dead across the multiverse, and he's decided to dedicate his entire life to finding and killing the man who did it.

He's tired, he's grieving, he's numbing himself with drugs and alcohol and hedonistic, short-term relationships that he can quickly leave behind for the next universe. And at first, it seems like his meeting with BP is gonna end up the same--they start a band on a whim while high off their ass, and they have a wacky, contained adventure--

But after...

Rick stays.

Rick stays with that version of BP in that universe. (we see that version of BP's memories in Rickternal Friendshine, we see him with our Rick, we know they share those memories because of how they travel through his mind) He stays even when things start getting uncool, stays when even when things start becoming "work." He stayed with BP from start to finish fighting a revolution he didn't care about!

He gets that impulse again--that need to get out of this universe and travel to another that's slightly different, that's more fun--Rick is an adventure-junkie before all else, and he needs his fix.

But now it's not so easy to leave.

Now, he has someone by his side who he can leave his back to in a war, who makes the time between adventures less unbearable, who's honest and sincere and believes in the value of life and freedom and is willing to die for it. Rick knows for a fact that nothing matters, that the revolution fails before it begins in infinite universes, that in some universes, the oppressed are the oppressors, that infinity dies and is recreated every millisecond across universes--but he... he likes that BP believes. (He makes Rick feel like life isn't meaningless.)

So...

Come with me. Anywhere. Everywhere.

(Notice how Rick's eye bags have gotten better since meeting BP, notice the soft look in his eyes, the way he moves closer instead of moving away)

BP's the first person he's wanted to stay with since Diane. He tells him everything--the portal travel, the multiverse, the fact that infinite universes exist so none matter--nothing matters! Nothing matters, but you matter... to me.

It's Crowley telling Aziraphale they can go off together, it's Grantaire believing in nothing but Enjolras who believes in everything, it's someone in pain who hates everything but loves one person so, so dearly that they grab their hand and tell them to run away with them--

And BP says no.

The very reason why Rick wants BP to come with him is the reason he can't. Rick, against all odds, likes BP's sincerity, his belief that life matters. And BP, with that sincerity and belief, tells Rick that he cannot follow him, because his universe matters to him.

And Rick leaves, hurt. He shoots a portal, walks through, and it's over.

He can find another BP easily. One that wouldn't say no to him, one that would travel the multiverse with him, that sounds like him, moves like him, acts like him.

But he doesn't.

BP tells him to use the beacon if he needs him. We never see Rick use it. Not because Rick doesn't need him,

but because Rick keeps coming back.

We see a picture of Rick holding a baby Morty in BP's house, even though our Morty has only known Rick for 2 years. Even while traveling the multiverse, exchanging Beths and Mortys and Jerrys, Rick keeps coming to see that Birdperson, in that universe.

There's not much that Rick comes back to. Being able to travel anywhere all the time means that he doesn't really have a home.

His original universe is soaked in grief and self-loathing. Diane's voice blares from his garage speakers and blames him for her death. Everything in that garage is dedicated to finding her killer. Rick only wakes up there sometimes in a miserable haze, torturing himself with photos of her.

But sometimes. Rick finds something wonderful in a different universe. A nice leaf. A pretty seed. A new drug that makes you feel absolutely fantastic.

A grandson.

(Framed photo in BP's house)

And who else would he want to show it to, but BP?

Rick does not have many places to return to. His original family is dead. "Home" is just another word for a base of operations to locate Rick Prime. Staying with Our Morty is just another scheme to get closer to Rick Prime. Rick does not have a home. Rick does not need a home.

Rick Sanchez is a hypocrite.

If he truly didn't care about anything but adventure, there are infinite BPs that would be infinitely more convenient to stay with, to go find and visit, who would say the right things, who would come visit him instead of always making Rick come to him, but, to his great chagrin,

"That's not how any of this works."

Rick Sanchez, the smartest man in the universe, cannot choose who he loves.

He keeps coming back through decades, sharing drinks, stories, his very best discoveries--a moment of peace and companionship between his adventures.

What is that, if not a home?

@birdperselias pls see this

[deer-fic-fics]

Kind of a sucker for unrequited love on the PC/Reader’s part… being Dr. Harper’s favorite patient not because they like you, but because you’re so obedient and willing to please because of your crush on them. They know you’ve got a crush, throwing you bones to string you along and keep you compliant. Maybe they don’t even have to do that, because you’re so desperate to see things your way, that you interpret any normal action of theirs as a confirmation of your feelings being returned. Maybe both of you know they don’t like you back, but it doesn’t even matter— you don’t care if they reciprocate as long as they keep letting you follow them around like a dog. Becoming so attached to them and infatuated that it actually starts to cause them problems. Fighting with the other patients at the asylum (because having you follow them around at the main hospital was already too much trouble) if they badmouth the Doctor, refusing to comply with the orderlies because you want Dr. Harper and nobody else… I want Dr. Harper to grow to regret playing into the Reader’s feelings for their own convenience in experiments, to become disgusted by them…

[nadiajustbe]

I have a hedcanon that Howl named all his spiders after some famous characters from our world.

It was a particular tragedy when Juliet the spider bit off the head of Romeo the spider, and Howl spent at least a day lamenting over what to do with Juliette — kill her according to the canons of the play or leave the poor creature to suffer for the rest of her life.

[fulminarie]

There isn’t anything quite like the particular flavor of unrequited love where the person who is yearning is content to remain in such a state because they feel (or, in some cases know) that the person of their affection will never return their feelings. The person who is elated just to share space with someone, who lets a friendly smile wash over them like warm sunlight, someone who thoughtfully cares for the lepidopterarium within their rib cage after a moment of shared eye contact. That kind of unrequited love, still melancholic as is its nature, which finds its foundations truly in love. In taking joy from seeing that person happy, wanting all the best for their love but assuming that the best will not be found within themselves. I mean, in the face of knowing or feeling that their love will never be returned, they still love. It’s heartbreaking, of course, and not very hopeful, but it’s beautiful in a humble, quiet way that I don’t know how quite to put into words.

[yashley]

laudna: that way we can message each other. fearne: oh right lol

[liquidstar]

who's ready for a repeat of the heartbreak of round 1?

[stacytea]

Okay, but hear me out:

Lord Azaghâl of Belegost

with a silly little crush on a certain Lord of Himring

and then he meets a certain prince of Noldor

and then we have Azaghâl with a silly not-so-little heartbreak after he finds out that Mae and Finno are married

(and then he supports them during the Nirnaeth)

(be like Azaghâl)