#prompt: unrequited love

[theladycarpathia]

burn

Max is late. Again. 

Billy flicks the lighter open and shut again and again, half considering giving into his impulse to burn everything down. He never thinks about it too seriously, but it's always there in the back of his mind. A flickering ember, just waiting. 

The only question is what will come first - getting out of this town, or when he finally gives into it.

But for today he clicks the lighter shut and stows it away in the glove-box. It’s just one of the shitty ones he buys at the gas station, of no actual value if Neil decides to search his car. He learned a long time ago that even the Camaro isn’t safe.

He thinks briefly about leaving her to skate home. He’s done it before, and it usually works well enough that she doesn’t pull the same stunt too often. He promised to keep out of her business and away from her friends. He’s followed through with that. But if he’s giving her a ride, he expects her to be on time. 

And if they’re back late, it’ll be his head on the chopping block. 

A familiar flash of red catches his eye and he grinds his teeth. Fucking finally.

She’s not alone, four boys trailing his stepsister like puppy dogs. He recognises them, half knows some of their names. But he doesn’t move, doesn’t even attempt to get out of the car, not since last November. He’s kept his promise. 

If Neil ever catches Max with them, that’s her own problem. 

One of the boys with dark hair says something that makes Max laugh. Another dramatically clutches his hands to his chest and staggers backwards and Max affectionately slaps him on the arm. Something about the easy, casual way they all walk in sync together makes bile rise in Billy’s throat. It seems that Billy’s the only one suffering in this town. For all of Max’s initial griping, she appears to actually like Hawkins.

He shouldn’t want her to be as miserable as he is. He just doesn’t want to be the only one drowning in it.

He doesn’t get why the boys are coming over to the high school until someone behind him leans on the horn. That’s when he spots the BMW.

That’s another promise he’s kept.

He’d woken in the Byers house, bloodied, sore and alone. The bitch had taken his car and when they’d returned, Billy had snatched the keys, grabbed Max, and driven off without a word. They were all dressed weirdly, with gloves, goggles and scarves wrapped around their faces. Max had strange dark smudges on her skin and her clothes reeked of smoke until laundry day. But she never once told him what they’d been doing and Billy decided that he didn’t want to know. Whatever fucked up shit she was involved in, he just didn’t care anymore. It was entirely up to her to explain to Neil and Susan, because he wasn’t about to cover for her.

But she’d told them something, and Neil hadn’t come into Billy’s room looking for an apology so Billy had left it. He’d cleaned the blood from his face and his knuckles, and he hasn’t looked too closely at what happened at the Byers’ since then.

Nor has he spoken to Harrington. He’d looked at the bruises on his face with some pleasure, and what the hell does it say about him that he wants to ruin something that pretty? Much to his annoyance, it had only made it worse: the cut on Steve’s bottom lip, the dark marks across his cheekbones.

The wounds eventually faded but Billy’s desire to make a mess of Steve did not.

Harrington climbs out of the front seat, clad in that same clingy green sweater that he’d worn to school today. It’s fucking insane that the former king of Hawkins High dresses like some golf-playing middle aged parent. Polo shirts, jumpers, khakis…every single item of Steve’s clothing makes Billy want to rip every single stitch.

Billy’s not been spotted. He slinks down in his seat, eyes focused on the rear-view mirror at Steve’s long body as he shouts for the kids to move their asses. Max waves at Steve, who returns the gesture. The boys shout their goodbyes to Max, scurrying across the concrete to their waiting babysitter. Billy doesn’t miss the expression on Max’s face as she watches them go.

Max climbs in and slams the door, even though he’s told her a thousand times not to. He watches her dump her bag at her feet, skateboard pulled onto her lap.

“You’re late,” he says, even though they could have peeled out of the parking lot by now. With Neil waiting, he probably should have. He’s still watching the rear-view mirror, watching Harrington in a sea of kids. 

“I forgot about the time,” she snaps back, but she’s picking at one of the stickers on her board. 

“Sure,” he drawls. The kids are piling into the BMW, but Steve is still standing, poking around in the trunk. One of the boys’ backpacks is wedged in, preventing the trunk from closing.

“We were talking and I just forgot,” she says defensively. “The others didn’t have to meet Steve until later and I just forgot.”

“You didn’t want to go with them?” Billy asks. She shrugs.

“They’re just going to play that stupid game,” she mutters, but she’s watching the rear-view mirror too. “El’s not even going to be there so it’s not like I’d have anything to do.”

It hurts a little sometimes, how alike they are. Maybe in another life, it would have made them good siblings.

But Neil made sure that was never an option. 

“We can’t be late,” Billy reminds her and her mouth twists. She’s starting to learn now and that frightens him. Neil’s rules are made to be obeyed and she’s no longer exempt. 

“I know, that’s what I said!” she bites out. There’s a curtain of red hair half-hiding her face. “Steve’s taking them all. There’s no space for me anyway.”

In the mirror, Steve stops and straightens up. He slams the trunk shut and looks around the nearly empty lot, tugging out a pair of sunglasses. Billy watches the light glint off the glass as Steve slides them onto his nose. There’s something so elegant about the easy way that he does it. King Steve never quite faded away, even after the fall from power. For some people it’s just built in: the delicate curve of his throat, the flick of a tongue across a bottom lip, the confidence in every movement.

“Good old Steve,” Billy says bitterly and Max shoots him a look.

“Shouldn’t we be going?” she says pointedly and Billy takes one last look at Harrington climbing into the front seat of the BMW. 

“We’re going,” he says, turning the key in the ignition. He grabs his own sunglasses from his pocket and then shifts into reverse. Billy swings the car around so he beats King Steve to the punch, effectively blocking the BMW in. 

“You’re being an ass,” Max says, her voice dangerously low. Billy gives her a grin, and takes his sweet time shifting into gear. He knows what lines he can cross. 

He catches sight of a few middle fingers as they pull off, and the move does little to stifle the itch under his skin. Nothing ever does these days.

Max stares out of the window as they pull away, dark clouds swirling around her bright little head. Billy dares one last look in the rear-view, watching the BMW reverse, allowing him one last look at Steve.

All he ever does is want to burn pretty things down.

[stars-obsession-pit]

Danyal and Damian grew up in the League together, but they’re not related; some other member just happened to also have a kid at a similar time to Talia.

Damian outranks the other boy by a significant margin, but they still manage to interact sometimes. It’s not like there’s many other kids to socialize with.

And, well, Damian starts to fall. He may still be young, but he can feel how deep his emotions run. As the heir to the Demon’s Head, he has access to treasures beyond reckoning, but the only treasure that he truly desires is Danyal at his side.

Then one day, Danyal never returns from a mission.

Damian slaughters every last person connected to the target. It doesn’t change a thing. Danyal is still gone. He’ll never forgive them for that. Nor the League, for that matter. Regardless of if it was their fault, they sent his love on the mission that took him away from him.

But for now, he’ll continue to make use of their resources. No stone will be left unturned until he finds the truth of what happened to his love. Even if he has to make use of the Pits, they will be reunited.

Meanwhile, many miles away, Danyal lets out a sigh of relief. It seems his plan worked; there’s no sign of anyone having come after him.

He spares only a brief thought to the boy he left behind. A part of him regrets leaving the other boy, but only a small part. The Demon’s Heir seemed happy with his life in the League. He doubts the other boy will care about the loss of a nobody like him, even if they had interacted occasionally.

Besides, he has far more immediate concerns at the moment, like staying off the League’s radar and finding where to go next. He should probably leave the country at minimum, but then what? He doesn’t want to have to keep running forever just to avoid going back. He wants to be free.

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 140

"What?" Geralt asks, frowning, a furrow in his brow. "I turn into a wolf every full moon." Jaskier repeats. "How-" "You were always away on a hunt. You'd just meet me back in the morning." "...You were a werewolf this whole time?" "..Yes. I- I'm sorry, Darling. I never wanted to lie." "Why didn't you trust me with this? Did you think I would hurt you?" "No! I thought I would hurt you. I'm not myself on full moons, Geralt. I can't even remember them. All I know is that the moon raises, i feel this ache in my bones, and the next thing I know, I'm waking up the next morning, nude, with a full stomach of what is HOPEFULLY nothing gross." "...You've not transformed in towns, have you?" "No! Of course not! I'm terrified of hurting someone, Geralt! That's the only reason I'm telling you now! I got the charts mixed up, I thought the moon was still a week away, but it isn't, and we're near a town, and I need you to keep me restrained." A long pause settles between them. "You want me to guard you?" "Guard them. From me. Keep me trapped in a shack and- And lock it up tight. Chain me, hurt me, knock me out, whatever you must do. Keep me from being a danger. I never wanted to be a terrifying beast, Geralt." Jaskier says, with those damned wet doe eyes of his. Geralt agrees. Because he doesn't know a world where he wouldn't. Mere hours later, Jaskier is sat against a beam in an old rundown barn. He's tied up with rope, and chained on top of that. There are no windows in the barn, the door is fully barricaded and locked, and Geralt guards it. "You really should guard it from outside" Jaskier had said. "I'm not leaving you to do this alone. You never should have had to." Geralt replied. Thus, Geralt stands and watches as Jaskier pales and starts twitching. The moon is rising. "It's coming- I'm going to be a beast." Jaskier says with fear, before the transformation takes the air out of his lungs. Geralt watches in horror and awe as Jaskier's body changes, changes, changes.... In... Into a songbird? sitting on the ground is a fat little songbird. It easily hops over the ropes and chains, now much too lose to hold it. Him. Oh my gods. Jaskier's not a werewolf. He's a... were.... werebird... And not even a scary one. Jaskier starts pecking the barn floor and Geralt rubs a hand over his face in exhaustion. He prepared for the worst, and instead is treated to watching Jaskier struggle to bathe in a trough. "Jaskier, it's too deep." He tells the bird, as it fluffs up it's wings. "Jaskier, you're going to-" Jaskier tries to take a step into the birdbath, only to fall, dunking his whole fat little body into the depths of the trough. He flails about in the water, chirping panickedly. Geralt rushes to his aid, gently lifting him out of the water with gentle hands. Perhaps guarding over Jaskier will still be a challenge after all.

[luna-azzurra]

Dialogue Prompts for Unrequited Love

"I love you... but not the way you love me."

"You deserve someone who can love you back."

"I wish I could be the one for you."

"Seeing you with them breaks my heart."

"I’ll always be your friend, but nothing more."

"You mean everything to me, but we can't be together."

"It's not you, it's me."

"I don’t want to lose our friendship."

"I can’t force my heart to feel something it doesn’t."

"You’ll find someone better than me."

[novelbear]

the words of an unrequited love (valentine's day edition)

prompt list by @novelbear

"you shouldn't have...really.."

"i didn't know you felt this way.."

"i hate to be the one to do this and ruin your day, but i don't want to lie to you."

"forget it. i'm sorry i bothered you." "can we please talk about this?"

"we could still go as friends if you want!"

"oh, dark chocolate....you remembered....yay!"

"shit....i am so sorry."

"you could have said that before i tried to kiss you." "how was i supposed to know you were going to do that?"

"i'm just going to go back home."

"you've been talking about wanting someone to spend the day with for weeks, silly me for thinking that was a sign."

"you totally led me on!" "what are you talking about?!"

"this is my fault. i guess what i said gave you the idea that i felt the same. i'm sorry."

"i just asked [name] out..."

"i thought you asked me to be your valentine in like a friendly way." "who asks someone to be their platonic valentine? please tell me." "plenty of people do, actually!"

"please don't say these are for me."

"this is a lot, like, a lot a lot."

"i just thought, you know what, nevermind."

"do you know how stupid i feel?" "i'm so sorry..."

"you're telling me this whole time, you didn't like me back and you still went on the date?!" "it was valentine's day! i couldn't reject you on valentine's day!"

"so, who was that lucky person you were telling me about?" "you, actually." "....oh."

"you're an amazing friend, you know that?" "stop there, i know how this goes."

[dumplingsjinson]

List of “(un)requited love” prompts 

Requested by: @girlwonder-writes Request: “I would like 24 prompts about unrequited love please!” 

“You’re the best thing that will never happen to me.”

“I love you. I know it’s one-sided. And that’s okay. I just needed you to know.”

“I swore to everything I love that I would never catch feelings for someone like you, but here we are. And what’s worse is you don’t feel the same, and I’m the one who’s going to embarrass themselves when all is said and done.”

“I don’t ask for you to love me back. I only ask you to understand it will take time for me to stop feeling this way for you.” 

“I never asked to fall for someone whom I know doesn’t feel the same way.”

“There’s a twisted beauty in being in love with someone who doesn’t feel the same.” 

“What’s worse is, this is the first time I’ve genuinely felt this way about someone.”

“Do my feelings disgust you that much that you can’t even look me in the eyes now?” 

“I’ve always known that you don’t feel that way towards me. I just… Didn’t expect you to confirm it in a way that would both embarrass and hurt me.”

“Even love itself bested me.” 

“Your mind’s not occupied by anyone else, so why can’t you let it be occupied by me instead? Like you occupy mine.”

“I mean, it would be nice if I was given even one chance to prove myself to you.”

“I respect that you don’t like me back, so I hope you can at least respect my feelings for you.”

“Did you really just ask me if I know how it feels to not have someone love you back like that? Me, the biggest lovesick loser of them all?”

“I’m tired. I want to let go.” 

“I don’t want to feel like this way towards you anymore.”

“I’m not used to this lack of reciprocation.”

“Not to be a whiney bitch, but why can’t I be the one?” 

“I don’t mind loving them from afar if it means I get to keep them in my life.” 

“If I let go of you now… Then I’m letting go of you forever. And I don’t know… I don’t know if I can do that just yet.”

“We could be something more but there’s just one thing missing.” “Which is…?” “You also holding the same feelings for me, as I hold for you.” 

“I fell for you, fully knowing the risks… Yet I was still unprepared for the crash.” 

“This is why I never wanted to tell you how I felt! I knew it would ruin everything between us, and that’s exactly what’s happening right now.”

“You warned me not to fall for you. And it’s my fault I didn’t listen.”

Join my Discord server: Steaming Dumplings Nation

[mrsmangi]

Yellow Carnation 💐

just friends - luigi mangione

♡ flower prompt: yellow carnation - a rejected love confession - meaning: in victorian times, to receive a bouquet of yellow carnations was read as a rejection to a romantic proposal. they can also be used to express sympathy or remorse. ♡ w.c.: 2k ♡ a/n: "pls more fluff" "pls more soft luigi-" no. angst will reign. this work of fiction is based on true events, directed by mrsmangi. enjoy!

♡ send me a flower & i'll write a drabble based off the prompt ! ↪ prompts that have been requested

“I like you, Luigi.”

You have rehearsed this moment countless times in your head. You have crafted every word, anticipating every possible outcome. You wish someone would have told you, even with all the possible precautions taken in the world, nothing could ever prepare you for how it actually feels–baring your heart to someone and watching your entire life teeter on the precipice of change.

The words escape your lips, raw and trembling, vulnerable in a way that makes your stomach churn. You’ve been holding these feelings in for so long that they’ve started to claw at your insides from within. They have pulled at your thoughts and tightened your chest every time Luigi’s name lights up your phone. Tonight, though, you’ll let them spill over, even if it means losing everything. 

“I thought if I just ignored my feelings for you, they would go away,” you begin gently. He doesn’t interrupt, letting you continue. “I would never risk doing anything to jeopardize my friendship with you, but there’s really no use in denying it anymore. Every time you look at me, I’m just reminded of how much it’s not going to happen. So, I try to cling to that and it helps me, sometimes.”

He chooses not to speak, but there’s a look on his face–one that highlights a tension in his features, and the faint crease between his brows–that tells you he’s listening. You take a breath to try to laugh it off, ease the tension, but it feels more like a deflection.

“I mean, it’s come to the point where I go out with guys just because they look like you,” you say, forcing another laugh, but your breath stutters. “Then, I’m disappointed by them when they don’t act like you–which is ridiculous in itself, I know.”

You know the words you utter won’t change anything because deep down, you already know Luigi’s answer. He doesn’t like you. “I know these feelings are completely unreciprocated,” you add quietly. “So, you don’t have to remind me.”

His lips twitch and he looks like he’s about to say something–something you know will just demolish you if he does, so you continue. You’re not ready to let him say it. “It just weighs on me, Luigi. My sentiment for you creates these expectations for you in my head that you’re not obligated to fulfill whatsoever. I have these urges to get to know you better–to know every boring, exciting, sad, stupid, happy thing about you. Friends don’t get urges to know you like the back of their hand or kiss you when you make them laugh. And it has everything to do with me, and nothing to do with you. I just really needed to get this off my chest and be done with it.”

Finally, he sighs. When he decides to speak, his voice is gentle, careful. It reminds you of a hunter attempting to approach a frightened deer. “I’m flattered,” he says. “But...” He trails off.

That, in itself, tells you all you need to know. It’s not a cruel rejection–not even a flat out rejection, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less. You know what he attempts to convey with his half-sentence alone. On the contrary, his kindness almost makes it feel worse, like a salve that stings more than it soothes. He looks at you as though he’s attempting to soften the blow. “I care about you, (Name). I really do.” 

You nod wordlessly. How can words help you now? Your own have failed you. There’s no anger in your heart, no resentment toward Luigi because how could there be? He’s an outstanding friend. He’s been nothing but good to you, he makes you happy more than any other person you’ve ever known, and he’s never faltered. There’s no reason you could be mad, even if you wanted to be.

“I just thought you should know,” you manage, even though the lump in your throat makes it difficult to speak. Difficult to breathe.

“I appreciate you telling me,” he whispers. You can’t help but let out a laugh of disbelief, shaking your head and looking away. 

“Oh, my God,” you breathe, hand rising to hold your head. You run your hand through your hair, still laughing, but it’s bitter. It’s disappointing. “I’m thoroughly impressed by how you’re somehow managing to dodge rejecting me while simultaneously rejecting me.”

“It’s not that,” he protests weakly. “You know, (Name), it’s just that…it’s just a crush.”

“Right.”

“You’ll move on.”

“Okay.”

Silence hangs between you. It feels suffocating, so unlike the comfortable silences you’ve shared before.

Luigi shifts in his seat, his discomfort visible. He’s trying, you can tell. Trying to say the right thing, to make this moment less unbearable for you both, but there’s nothing more to salvage. It’s not just his rejection that stings. It’s the hope that came before it, the fact that you let yourself believe–even just for a moment–that Luigi might feel the same way. You think about the nights you spent convincing yourself that the way he laughed at your jokes or lingered in conversation or did his damndest to bring you joy meant something more. In hindsight, it feels foolish, but at the same time, it just felt so real.

“I really want to stay friends, but I don’t think it’s fair to you,” he says. You can tell he means it. “It feels like I’m not helping you.”

He hasn’t. With his big dumb grin and his stupid awful jokes, how could he ever help you get over him? But you can’t say that. How could you possibly put the blame on him when all he’s ever done is be himself? It’s not his fault you’ve fallen in love with him. It’s not his fault he’s everything you’ve ever wanted. 

“Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?”

“It’s up to you,” he whispers. “I’m giving you the option. You know yourself better than I do.”

True, you think, but if it were up to you, you’d stay at his side forever. You’d let him twist and bend you, like a piece of plastic until it inevitably snaps. Let him ruin you, let him devastate you.

You say nothing.

“I obviously don’t want to,” he voices what you both think, after you don’t reply. “But I know I would end up hurting you and I don’t want that either.”

He doesn’t have to hurt you, though, you hear a voice that sounds like your own whisper in the back of your mind. You’ll do that to yourself anyway. 

“Your friendship means so much to me,” you tell him, gently. “I'd really like us to stay friends because having you in my life is important to me. I just wanted to be honest about where I'm at emotionally, so I can work on handling it in a healthy way without jeopardizing what we have.” 

When he sighs with relief, your heart falls in your stomach. 

“You’re so emotionally mature, it’s insane,” he says. There’s still a carefulness, a subtle difference that wasn’t there before. “We don’t have to let it change anything. We decide how we deal with it.” You can’t tell if he’s trying to convince you, himself, or both.

You finally make yourself look at him, and the expression on his face nearly causes you to unravel. His dark eyes are so soft and apologetic–so guilt-ridden, you feel as though you may throw up. He must notice the contorted look on your face because he leans closer, frowning softly. 

“Is it really bothering you?” he asks after a moment. He sounds so tentative. You’re almost tricked into believing he was just lying to you, mere moments ago, when he implied he didn’t feel the same way.

Of course, you’re bothered. You’re sitting here like an idiot, choking on the weight of his kindness. The way it hurts you more than any outright rejection ever could. It’s not that Luigi doesn’t care about you–it’s the fact that he does that just makes it all so much harder. 

The affection you crave from him, solely him, isn’t something he can offer to you. 

“No,” you say finally, forcing a smile. “I’m okay.” 

You don’t have to say anything to know that he sees right through you. His expression doesn’t change–not really–but the way his eyes dim, filled with a subtle sadness, tells you he knows the truth. You can tell he wants to say something. You try to ignore the tense posture of his figure when his lips press together tightly in a straight line. You feel the weight of his restraint as if it were your own. You’ve always understood him in that way.

The conversation dwindles after that, neither of you quite knowing how to move forward. Eventually, you stand. The chair scrapes loudly against his wooden floor and you have to stop yourself from crying when he looks up at you with something akin to regret. 

“Thank you,” you say, and his eyebrows knit together in confusion. 

“You’re thanking me?” he asks. “For what?” 

“For letting me say it. For listening,” you say. “I’m sorry if I made this weird.” 

He doesn’t respond immediately, but when he does, he does so quietly. “Of course.” 

You can’t take it anymore. “I should go,” you gesture to his door. He doesn’t stop you. He doesn’t try to convince you to stay or ask you if you’re sure. If you want a ride home. He just nods, his hands resting loosely on the edge of his kitchen table. You wonder if he’s just as desperate to get out of this position as you are.

“Text me when you’re home,” he says softly.

You only manage to nod before grabbing your things and leaving. 

By the time you make it home and close the door behind you, the first sob chokes you as it escapes your throat. It’s soft at first, but it snowballs into something larger quickly, the weight of the evening crashing down on you all at once. You sink to the floor, burying your face in your hands as the tears pour. It’s exhausting and messy–the kind of sobbing that leaves your chest heaving, you coughing, and your head pounding. You let it happen.

The tears finally subside after what feels like a lifetime. You wipe your face with trembling hands and drag yourself to your bed. When you open your phone, Luigi’s name still sits at the top of your messages, just as it always is. 

 Luigi: Take care of yourself and get home safe, okay? - 40m ago

You stare at the screen for a long time, debating whether to text him as he asked. You could type something simple. His message is nothing dramatic. There’s no overreaching attempt to comfort you, no empty reassurances. He says nothing wrong. He doesn’t try to fix anything or pretend it’s not hard for you. This is Luigi. “Steady, dependable, who will always care about you, just not quite in the way you want him to” Luigi. The text is not cruel, Luigi never is, but it’s distant. Only a reminder of the boundary that has always existed between you, one that feels more evident now than ever before.

A simple “Made it home safe” text from you would suffice. You could pretend everything is fine. Pretend you’re fine. But you can’t bring yourself to do it. Not yet. 

It’s too fresh, and the thought of attempting to say something that feels adequate enough to reply with seems impossible now. Your friendship isn’t over, you know this, but this version of it has come to an end. Tomorrow, you’ll figure it out. Take it step by step, work on moving on from this chapter of your life. This “crush.”

But tonight, you want to soak in your ache. In a way that’s not cathartic or labeled “progress.” Just in a way that feels real and unforced. And maybe, for now, that’s enough.

[sageandscorpiongrass]

could you do a web about loving someone who doesn’t love you back

certainly!

I Wish That You Loved Me.

I Swear Somewhere This Works, Trista Mateer | For the Best, Gregory and the Hawk | Today Means Amen, Sierra DeMulder | from the unsent project | poem I wrote sitting across the table from you, Kevin Varrone | The Garden of Eden, Ernest Hemmingway | Cascando, Samuel Beckett | Hungry Thread of Nerves, Fatima Aamer Bilal | Catalog of Unabashed Gratitude, Ross Gay | @/haematiclove on twitter | Lullabies, Lang Leav | In a Dream You Saw a Way To Survive, Clementine von Radics | Don’t You Dare (Make Me Fall in Love With You), Kaden MacKay | Honeybee: Baggage, Trista Mateer | If This Were My Book The Ending Would Be So Different, Natalia Vela

[text transcription in alt text]

[shadebloopnik]

Unrequited/One-sided Radioapple but it isn't treated like an angsty end of the world thing.

Imagine they slowly get closer after all the banters, and eventually becoming close friends. Lucifer ends up catching feelings for him, and after a long while, decides to confess and ask Alastor if he felt the same.

Alastor admittedly does not feel the same.

He's getting uncomfortable, struggling to keep his composure because he's DONE this before. He KNOWS how this ends. He remembers Vox and all his insistent declarations of affection and desperate pleas for Alastor to reciprocate; the possessive entitlement. He remembers how all those sickly sweet words morphed into something venomous when he didn't give the lowlife what he wanted. He remembers the anger, the ridiculous notion that it was Alastor's fault why he was so mad, that Alastor led him on and that he obviously deserved something in payment for it all-

So yes, Alastor knows how this ends.

It doesn't mean he isn't disappointed though, because he actually LIKES Lucifer, far more than he ever did Vox. Perhaps not in the way the king might have wanted, but he did. He treasured their little talks, their drinking sessions, their shared love for their instruments, Lucifers singing, their little duets, the banter, the playful jabs, the sparring.

He'd even slowly grown accustomed to the other's touches, not feeling the same surge of disgust and discomfort whenever the shorter man would grab at his arm in excitement, forgetting his usual thoughtfulness of Alastor's touch aversion for the short moment of whatever distracted him. Alastor even enjoyed it at times, relaxing at the feel of soft feathers beneath his claws, or the sensation of gentle scratches against his ears.

Difficult as it was to admit, Alastor had grown to care for the angel, the same way he had for Rosie orv Mimzy.

But no matter how fond Alastor was of Lucifer, it didn't change the fact that he didn't feel the same way romantically, or even sexually. No way in the 7 rings of Hell was he going to lie to Lucifer about either, not going to even entertain the idea of pretending he reciprocated for Lucifer's sake. He respected his friend too much for that.

So a clear, direct rejection it is. It was a shame, but nothing could be done. He said his piece concisely, and waited, shoulders set, back straight, smile and eyes a careful blank canvas as he prepared for the inevitable.

Lucifer nodded, a normal soft smile still in place, "Thank you for your answer, it means a lot."

Which......what? Alastor expected an outburst, or at the very least sharp words.

What he did NOT expect was....acceptance? And not just that but, a happy one? Contentment?????

"You're....alright with that?", he had to ask, he had to. Lucifer was clearly just very good at masking his upset.

But the damn angel just smiled?? And it didn't even look fake, just as bright and soft as his normal smiles, albeit a little confused?? Lucifer smiled at him, his brows furrowing in a bit of confused disbelief, as though Alastor is being the weird one here.

"Uhh, yeah??? Why wouldn't I be??? Yeah I may have some feelings for you but its not like you're obligated to feel the same. Above anything else, we're friends first and foremost and i'm alright with that..."

Then he seemed to have reached his own little conclusion as his words trailed off, because suddenly Lucifer's eyes widened in realization of something, and his words picking up with a sense of panicked urgency.

Alastor would really like to know what Lucifer's supposed realization was about himself because he had absolutely no clue.

"I mean, we ARE still friends right?? I don't- I- I hope this doesn't like- change your opinion of me. You're not- oh gosh I'm not making you uncomfortable am I? I- I won't mention it! You can even forget this whole confession ever happened! We can just go on as before! I don't feel any different or would act any different! Honest! I mean, I don't regret confessing because you deserve to know and I'm not ashamed of my feelings, but I don't want you to be uncomfortable! It doesn't change the way i'll treat you! Or change any aspect of our relationship! I don't even think I like you more as a lover than as a friend! I really, really do love our friendship, it matters more to me than any thoughts of being in a romantic relationship with you! So please just forget it all-"

Alastor let the word vomit wash over him, every word leaving him more confused by the minute.

Because yes, there's the desperation he expected, but...it was more about, convincing Alastor to remain friends?? Reassuring Alastor that nothing has to change?? That their friendship is the most important thing here??

(If anyone asks, no Alastor's heart didn't swell. Only lesser beings would have had the urge to cry, and Alastor is anything but.)

Lucifer is unknowingly reassuring Alastor of every single one of his insecurities about the situation. Because Alastor DID want to remain friends, he cared too much about the man to let it go so easily. It was rare to find people who treasure friendships above romantic relationships.

"I don't tend to forget easily, nor will I forget this one in particular.", he spoke, finally finding his voice. At Lucifer's defeated, pained expression( is their friendship really that important to him?), he continued. "But....yes. I'd like that.. To remain...friends."

He didn't often say the word out loud, being comfortable enough with each other that it need not be reassured with the label. But with Lucifer brightening up like his namesake, relief and happiness palpable, Alastor felt no qualms at declaring their friendship out loud.

So life went on as usual. True to his word, Lucifer remained basically the same. The following weeks were a bit stilted for Alastor, as he put some rather painful distance between him and the angel; limiting their interactions, their usual touches.

Anytime now, Lucifer would break and show his true colors, Alastor would think, waiting for the boot to drop. Lucifer would end up angry, and dissatisfied, and that was that.

But it never happened. Lucifer never expressed discomfort when Alastor avoided him, seeming to be understanding of the others need for space. He was just as affectionate as before, though initially a bit held back, as though gauging Alastor's comfort.

Months would pass, and the king never faltered. Their friendship remained strong, if not growing ever closer than before. Alastor found himself even growing more comfortable with the man. Affectionate touches were becoming common, hugs and head pats and cuddles being a welcome thing, with the reassurance that the shorter king would never disrespect his boundaries.

Lucifer seemed genuinely happy about it, despite being clearly told that none of Alastor's actions hinted at anything romantic. In fact, he seemed ecstatic that Alastor was getting more affectionate towards him as a friend. The embarrassment the radio demon felt at having Lucifer basically tear up (no really, he was crying so hard, full on drama sobbing) with joy in front of him was intertwined with the sheer incredulous fondness he felt for the man at that moment.

They were sitting at a couch one night, more than a year passing since that confession. Lucifer was leaning back, resting against the cushions, while Alastor had his head on the smaller one's shoulder, nuzzling at the crook of his neck, legs tucked close to his body. Both had a book in hand, two nearly empty cups of tea on the table in front of them. Every so often, Lucifer would flex his fingers that rested on Alastor's head, running a digit against the other's ear, often prompting the demon to lean into the touch. White wings enveloped the two, blanketing them against the chill of the night.

As Alastor turned the page of his own book, relaxing into the touch of his dearest friend, he wondered how he ever got so lucky in hell.

[youneedsomeprompts]

~ BUT I'M NOT THE ONE ~ UNREQUITED LOVE PROMPTS

requested by: various anons

requests: any prompts for watching someone you love pay attention and gaze at someone else lovingly?; Can I get some prompts for one-sided pining? your prompts have helped motivate me to write sm, thank you for doing what you do <3333

Part 1 (kinda): 15 unrequited love prompts

Feel free to use and reblog!

trying to forget that their love interest loves someone else but they're painfully reminded of it every day

feeling their heart break as they see their love interest showering someone else with love but they just can't look away

giving their love interest support/advice, full well knowing that it'll only serve to bring them together with someone else

indulging in fantasies where they are happy with their love interest

torturing themselves by nurturing their feelings and staying close to their love interest, even though it's a hopeless case

being torn between hating their love interest's love interest and wanting to be nice to them since their love interest likes them

how can someone so nice as their love interest hurt them so badly just by liking someone else?

adoring their love interest's ability to love because they see how pure their love is; unfortunately, though, they're just not the lucky recipient

they count themselves lucky to have known such love (telling themselves it's right to hold on to this selfless form of love that is independent of any reciprocation)

secretly/silently dedicating everything they're doing to their love interest, and if they could they would write the most heart-wrenching and heart-felt love poems outshining every great Greek and Roman poet

loving them hurts so good but it hurts so bad

they watch every little change in their love interest's expression and see how they brighten up when they look at their own love interest

they know their love interest and their way to (express) love better than they know themselves

they don't want their love interest to know about their feelings because they don't want to make them feel bad for not reciprocating

better to be tragically in love than to have not loved at all

[blaire-apricity]

hellow can i make a request of a sylusxiseakaid reader who is a side character and her being unrequited love due to sylus has mc of l&d?

Unrequited Love

sʏʟᴜs x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᯓ❅ ┆ 𝘴𝘺𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘴𝘪𝘴 ┆ : 𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘵𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘥?

ᯓ❅ ┆ 𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘴 ┆ : 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘵 & 𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵

─────────────── ˗ˏˋ ❅｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽ ˎˊ˗ ────────────────

One moment, you were having a regular day and as you were about to retire for the day, upon pushing through your door, you stepped into the foreign yet familiar world; your heart raced with excitement as you realized where you entered. What once existed only in your wildest dreams, the fantasy confined to your phone screen, had become your reality. You found yourself inside the very game you played for so long: ‘Love and Deepspace.’

Your old life, a cycle of dull routines and exhausting repetition, seemed distant now. Here you were, in a place you only ever daydreamed about. It felt like the universe had granted you a second chance—to rewrite your story in a world you once believed was unreachable.

But this new life came with its own challenges. Most painfully, it brought you face-to-face with someone you’d always admired from afar, separated only by the cold distance of a screen and the difference between reality and fantasy.

But now, it was different, you were closer than ever, yet nothing was as you imagined.

In the game, you had always been the protagonist in Sylus’ storyline. You thought that, now that you were here, it would be the same. But it wasn’t. Instead, you were reduced to a mere side character, watching from the shadows. The gut-wrenching disappointment hit hard.

Abandoning your old monotonous life was one thing. But realizing that the person you longed for might never see you—that hurt even more. Yet, you were determined to make the most of this second chance. Just because the person you love doesn’t love you back doesn’t mean your world has to end.

Right?

But convincing yourself of that was harder than you expected. Back when it was all fiction, when Sylus’ every move was scripted by developers, at least there was some comfort in the illusion that, in some way, he knew you existed. In that fictional world, he loved you.

Now, in this real version, he didn’t even know your name. He had no idea what you looked like, what you loved, or that you even existed. The sting of unrequited love was unbearable, but being invisible to him was what shattered your heart.

You clung to your knowledge of this world from your days playing the game, using it to guide you. You poured every ounce of effort, persistence, and determination into getting closer to his orbit. You left Linkon City behind and ventured into the N109 Zone, carving a path for yourself in his industry.

You were still far from his actual organization, but you understood the game’s rules better than most. You thought maybe—just maybe—you could introduce yourself, find a way to meet him, forge your own story with him.

For a while, that hope kept you going.

But then you saw him. With her. The real protagonist of this world.

That’s when it hit you. You weren’t her. This world didn’t revolve around you. With or without you, it continued, indifferent to your dreams.

Clenching your fists, you let go of that delusion. This love of yours, so deep and painful, would remain unrequited forever. And there was nothing you could do to change it.

·❆　　　❆　❅　　　　•　　　　.　　　　　❆❆• 　·　.　　　❅

𝐴𝑢𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑟'𝑠 𝑁𝑜𝑡𝑒: 𝐼 𝑎𝑝𝑜𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑖𝑧𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑓𝑢𝑙𝑓𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑠𝑡, 𝐴𝑛𝑜𝑛. 𝐼𝑡'𝑠 𝑚𝑦 𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑠𝑡 𝑖𝑠𝑒𝑘𝑎𝑖 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐼 𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑢𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑖𝑡 𝑜𝑛 𝑚𝑦 𝑓𝑜𝑙𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑠𝑜 𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔, 𝐼 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑛'𝑡 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑢𝑒𝑑 𝑖𝑡 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝐼'𝑚 𝑔𝑙𝑎𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝐼'𝑚 𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑙 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑑𝑢𝑐𝑡 𝑡𝑜𝑑𝑎𝑦.

𝑊𝑒𝑙𝑙 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑛, 𝑖𝑡 ℎ𝑎𝑠 𝑏𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 2 𝑚𝑜𝑛𝑡ℎ𝑠 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑚𝑦 𝑙𝑎𝑠𝑡 𝑢𝑝𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑒 (𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠, 𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑢𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦). 𝐼 𝑔𝑜𝑡 𝑏𝑢𝑠𝑦 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑚𝑦 𝑛𝑒𝑤 𝑎𝑐𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑚𝑦 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑖𝑛 𝑓𝑎𝑐𝑡, 𝐼'𝑣𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑝𝑝𝑒𝑑 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝐿𝐴𝐷𝑆 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑎𝑚𝑒 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒 𝐼 𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑛'𝑡 𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑦𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔.

𝐼'𝑚 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒𝑙𝑦 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑒 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝐿𝐴𝐷𝑆 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑏𝑒 𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑒𝑛𝑔𝑎𝑔𝑒𝑑 𝑜𝑛 𝑖𝑡.

𝑀𝑎𝑦𝑏𝑒 𝐼 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑑 𝑎 𝑏𝑖𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑜𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑜𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑎𝑔𝑎��𝑛.

[anitalenia]

━━━ .°˖✧ romance tropes ⋆˙⊹

𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑖𝑠 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝐼 𝑎𝑚 𝑔𝑜𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑎 𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑚𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝑢𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑢𝑛𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑚𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝑢𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑟𝑜𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑠. 𝑒𝑎𝑐ℎ 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑖𝑡𝑠 𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑑𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑢𝑏𝑔𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑝𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑝𝑒, 𝑜𝑟 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑝𝑓𝑢𝑙 𝑠𝑖𝑡𝑢𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑝𝑢𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑜𝑐𝑠 𝑖𝑛 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑝𝑒.

╰₊✧ ﾟOTHER LINKS . ྀི ⊹ masterlist | taglist | my library

| prompt help | symbol packs | dividers

˖⁺ ⊹୨ forbidden romance ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when a character cannot openly be in a relationship with someone for some reason ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

˖⁺ ⊹୨ enemies to lovers ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when two characters are enemies / in violent opposition to each other in the beginning but gradually end up in love ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

˖⁺ ⊹୨ friends to lovers ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when two characters are friends first, but end up falling in love with each other ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

˖⁺ ⊹୨ dark/taboo tropes ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ romance between two people that is considered inappropriate or wrong/not acceptable in society ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

˖⁺ ⊹୨ opposites attract ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when two characters are drastically different people/opposite personalities but still somehow love each other ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

˖⁺ ⊹୨ unrequited love ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when a character loves someone who is unattainable for some reason. one sided love. ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

˖⁺ ⊹୨ fake relationship ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when two characters feel no romantic feelings for one another but are forced to be together. in some cases, they eventually fall in love. ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

˖⁺ ⊹୨ fish out of water ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when a character is in an unfamiliar environment and has to adapt. think city girl on a farm. ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

˖⁺ ⊹୨ soul mates au ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when two characters are meant to be together from birth, destiny, or soul ties. ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

˖⁺ ⊹୨ oblivious to love ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when a character is clueless about their own romantic feelings towards someone else ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

˖⁺ ⊹୨ reverse harem ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ consists of one female protagonist and three or more male love interests. although I have heard varying definitions. ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

˖⁺ ⊹୨ secret identity ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when two characters are in love but one is not being truthful with who they really are/they’re hiding something from their love interest (like spiderman) ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

˖⁺ ⊹୨ love triangle ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when two characters are in love, but a third party loves one of the characters as well. or, one character is confused between two people who they love (edward x bella x jacob, stefan x elena x damon) ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

━━━ .°˖✧ 𝑻𝑹𝑶𝑷𝑬𝑺 𝑻𝑯𝑨𝑻 𝑵𝑬𝑬𝑫 𝑵𝑶 𝑬𝑿𝑷𝑳𝑨𝑵𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵 ⋆˙⊹ 𝑡𝘩𝑒𝑠𝑒 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑠 𝑡𝘩𝑎𝑡 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇-𝒆𝒙𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚. 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑗𝑓 𝑖 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑢𝑝 𝑤𝑖𝑡𝘩 𝑠𝑐𝑒𝑛𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑜𝑠 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑡𝘩𝑒𝑚 𝑖𝑡 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝑏𝑒 𝑎 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑝𝑙𝑒, 𝑠𝑜 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒔𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .݁

˖⁺ ⊹୨ marriage ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when a character is forced to marry another for some reason (arranged marriage) ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

˖⁺ ⊹୨ dark past ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when a character has trauma or pain because of their past, and their love interest helps them heal. ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

˖⁺ ⊹୨ amnesia / memory loss ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when a character loses their memory and has to regain their love and memories for another. ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

˖⁺ ⊹୨ alpha hero ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when a male character is overprotective, bossy, jealous, possessive, and have great sexual appeal. think bad boy, biker, ceo fanfics. This can also be military men, superhero’s, men in leadership. a vague category. ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

˖⁺ ⊹୨ one bed trope ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when two characters are forced to share a bed 👅 you should know this one ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

˖⁺ ⊹୨ forced proximity ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when two characters are forced into small spaces together or forced to be together in the same room. ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

˖⁺ ⊹୨ beauty and the beast ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when a typically male character is capable of great rage and destructive, sometimes a literal monster, but the fem character loves them beyond their looks and sees the good in them. doesn’t have to be a literal monster. ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

˖⁺ ⊹୨ in peril tropes ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when a character is in some sort of crisis and has to be saved by love interest. ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

˖⁺ ⊹୨ job related tropes ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when a character is attracted to someone because of their job, or their romance happens at work/ a specific location (corrupt priest, military man, construction worker). can be taboo. ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

˖⁺ ⊹୨ time travel ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when a character travels back or forward in time and falls in love with someone from that time period. ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

authors note: I am going to be making posts describing each trope individually as well as sub-genres and examples of that trope. I had something similar to this in my notes for my stories and decided to share. there are a lot of tropes out there, so feel free to comment other ones. remember you are loved and important <3

[mochiscove]

crushing on your best-friend...but it's unrequited prompts ! pt. 2

"you look so happy when you talk about them... i’m glad you have someone like that in your life."

"you’re seriously asking me for advice on what to text them..? i mean sure! i’ve got you."

character b texts character a that they're thinking of making a move on someone else, and character a type out a supportive response, even though they're secretly wishing they'd look at them the same way.

character b leans over character a's shoulder, their breath warm against a's neck as they point out something on a's paper. character a tries to focus on the words they’re saying, but all they can think about is how close character b is.

"oh my god! i was only staring because you had something on your face. stop making it weird!"

"i wish we could just stay here forever." character a says, lying on the grass, staring at the sky. "yeah…me too." character b replies softly, but their gaze is on character a, not the sky. 

"are you alright?" character a asks, noticing the silence. "mmm…yeah." character b says, smiling, but all they want to say is, i’m fine, i just wish you could see me the way i see you.

"you’re my favorite person. i mean, not like that... unless you thought i meant it like that?…i'm kidding!"

character a tells character b they need to talk, and for a moment, character b thinks maybe this is it — maybe they’ll confess their feelings. but instead, character a says, "i…think I’m in love with someone." “oh…”

character a tells character b that they’re planning to confess their feelings to someone else, and character b feels their world shatter in an instant. "…good luck." character b says, but inside, it feels like they’re losing a piece of themselves.

"i wish i could find someone who makes me feel as safe as you do, b" “you will,a...”

"i’d rather be their friend than nothing at all..."

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 131

Jasker is a dragon, sure. But he prefers his human form. He prefers pretty clothing and lutes over his scales and wings. He hasn't a hoard yet. He thinks. He's never truly cared for gold, though he knows that not all dragons have hoards of gold. That's just the default. What if he did have a hoard, and it just wasn't some boring old gold pieces? At first he thought his hoard must be his many exuberant outfits, but when he got into a scuffle and one outfit was ruined, he was disappointed but that was it. There was no anguish, no mourning, no big depressive meltdown over it's destruction... So probably not a hoard. Just an interest. He then thought it must be his songs. But when he heard a bard in some town playing one of his songs, he didn't erupt into scales and roars. He didn't burn down a city. He didn't even rip out his hair or anything. He wasn't even mad. He thinks you'd be more possessive and jealous over a hoard. He was mostly proud. The bard said it was a song he didn't write, he said it was by Jaskier, and he sang it quite well. But even if he didn't do any of those things, Jaskier would be mad, sure, maybe even mad, but never MAD. He thought of lovers being his hoard, but the thought went away very quickly. None of his lovers stay, and though it stings sometimes, he thinks he'd be flinging himself off a cliff if a treasure of his hoard literally got up and walked away from him. And then one day he meets a Witcher. The witcher looks at him with these piercing golden eyes, and Jaskier feels an audible shift in his soul, his being. He found it. His treasure. Maybe witchers are his hoard, and Geralt is just his first one. Maybe his hoard is just friends he meets. He doesn't know, all he knows is that he can't stop himself from staring at the gold of Geralt's eyes. Perhaps Jaskier does care for gold.

[miakate-writes]

Can you please do mutual pining/obviously-in-love-but-both-are-too-shy-to-say-it? Literally the blood in my veins 😭

Mutual pining romance prompts! 🌸🎀

spending ALL their time together

physical contact whenever possible

like they will literal start blushing and stuttering over the brush of a hand

never seen apart

people are always asking them things like “where is A?” “why aren’t you with B?”

and they never get sick of it

if the other person’s name is bought up in a conversation, you best believe they are listening STRAIGHT AWAY

what did they do? what did they say? who were they with? did they have fun?

they wanna know it all because this is half of the information they can get about them due to being to shy to pester for info ALL the time so they have to depend on other ppl 🥺

[a/n: tysm for this request, i’m getting to requests as soon as i can, still getting out of burnout and i’ve got exams this week so bear with me 🫶🏻 if you have any requests then pop them in my asks! you’re always welcome here 🎀]

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

overheard a lady behind me comfort her friend who had a one sided crush on someone that even though it was one sided, she and that guy would’ve still gotten the slash tag if someone were to write a fic about them on ao3. and hey! who cared if it was unrequited? ITS STILL SLASH TAG ON AO3! and honestly, it’s one of the most motivating things I’ve heard in so long

gonna start telling myself this whenever I have a one sided crush on someone from now on