#unfortunately unrequited

[fennekn]

“kaichou, oh kaichou,

I want to listen to your voice for now and forever.”

based off check check check one two! by wada takeaki

[bastardlybonkers]

[kyouka-supremacy]

Hope you feel better soon! Here's a random SSKK headcanon: Akutagawa would recognize his feelings for Atsushi as love, but he's unlikely to act on this realisation because of his full conviction that he's unworthy of being loved. So he won't burden the other with his feelings, unless Atsushi makes that first step.

Yeah, totally. I do strongly believe Akutagawa would sooner die than confess to Atsushi (I mean, he very much did), simply because he's 100% convinced his love could never in the world be requited. And how could it be any different, when he thinks so lowly of himself, and so highly of Atsushi... When I said that sskk's hate for each other is actually the hatred they feel for themselves that they see reflected in the other's eyes.

At the same time, I don't exclude Akutagawa kissing Atsushi on impulse at some point. It's the kind of thing he would never do if he thought over it, but that's the point, Akutagawa often acts on instinct and doesn't think things through; differently from Atsushi, who's a much more reflective person. That's one way I can see sskk overcoming the stalemate of both having too low self esteem to even consider the other could requite their feelings.

[blackwaves]

btw sskk unrequited love agenda is forever fake to me o7 they're literally. equals and opposites and partners who stand on level ground forever; yin-yang soulmates. i think people tend to interpret akutagawa's tunnelvision different than i do— i think people tend to interpret the way he cares about atsushi as fully/wholly defining of him as a character and overriding everything else about him.

akutagawa's sacrifice for atsushi was a tactical/practical choice (relevant to the plot!) and was deeply tied to his narrative and indicative of his character development. it's not about atsushi to the exclusion of being about other things— it's about heartless cur saying, give me a reason to live; it's partially about dazai, still. it is about atsushi and it's about atsushi as a catalyst for change/action within akutagawa. it's deeply important to him as a character.

atsushi's sacrifice for akutagawa matches this!!! it's akutagawa provoking action/change in him (only a diamond can polish another diamond— he's spent chapters afraid and devastated, and it's akutagawa on the verge of something like death that breaks him out of the state fyodor's trying to provoke in him), and it's a tactically sound choice that is simultaneously tied to the ada and to the larger plotline. it's about akutagawa and it's about atsushi. it's such an important moment for atsushi as a character, deeply tied to breaking free and moving on his own, and: he says, we're even now.

bsd is the connections-are-what-make-you-who-you-are manga. sskk don't stand as a pair on their own, separate of influences around them, because none of the dynamics in bsd do. they do—however—match forever and forever stand on equal ground. they make each other change and grow and reach their full potential.

[cadeswinston]

evie loves steve, steve loves soda, soda loves sandy.

[oklooneytunes]

you didn't have to add that last short sentence bro wtf 🥀🥀

[equalseleventhirds]

unfortunately due to contemplating Imagery and Symbolism while i am so so so bored at work, my brain is percolating worldbuilding somewhere along the lines of hanahaki, except prolly not for unrequited love prolly some other Big Emotion to cause ur Magic Disease

and instead of flowers in ur lungs u just grow wings on ur back. pretty wings. big wings. wings that don't — can't, bcos physics — work, but that keep growing anyway, diverting nutrients your body needs as the rest of you wastes away.

something something call it icarus syndrome, i think. perhaps the big emotion is too much longing. perhaps it's too much hope.

[lwjamor]

what’s funny is that i’ve watched motogp for years, pecco has been my favourite since 2021, i’ve been in fandoms half of my life…and yet i had not realized that maybe a motogp fandom existed until i started noticing how jorge martin acted a little too much like a cordial-but-still-not-over-you ex with pecco

[realmothchu]

i like tyrelliot as a ship but not as a couple if that makes sense… 😅

[haeva]

My favourite trope is when a man and a woman are best friends and neither of them is in love with the other.

[toffeecoco1]

i love when bingqiu fics have a dash of “lqg is madly in love with sqq, but sqq is oblivious. he will never know. he really SHOULD know, it’s painfully obvious, but he never will”

rip lqg 😔

[p-sherman-42]

A Cliché for Two

If I could build a bridge to close this gap, to span the length of time and space, I would. I would bottle up all the stars in the night sky for you. We'd sip

on the cosmos, get drunk off ambrosia and a cliché for two. I'd taste the dust upon your lips, shrouded in a nicotine nebula and the faintest whisper of a promise.

If I could build such a bridge to reach you, I'd craft it out of coffee stir-sticks, of ribbons and Stardust and honey-dew, of pthalo green and saffron and Tom Waits.

For you, I'd toss a lasso around the moon and rein her in for you to swallow whole. The lunar light would seep out of your pores and we would dance by silver rays of truth.

If I could build such a bridge to reach you, we'd sip the Milky Way through straws, gorge ourselves on the crumbs of planets old and new. Oh, all the things I'd do for you.

For you, I feel like a walking cliché. My stomach churns, my heart it yearns, for you-- your touch, your love. For you, I am a star, bottle and kept upon a shelf to love

you from afar. This gap, it grows, and we both know this distance will not shrink, but oh, all the things I'd do, just to have you near-- just to hear you say that you love me too.

[ofpd]

I’d be interested in a non exr fic rec list

ok yes sorry this took a while to answer, i wanted to get through some fics on my tbr before posting it :)

The Pursuit of Light | enjolras & feuilly | 3.3k

"Let's start with the first conjugation," Enjolras says, taking up the pen beside him and scribbling down a list of words Feuilly is entirely unfamiliar with. "I hope my handwriting isn't too arcane."

True Fraternity | enjolras & feuilly | 2k

When Feuilly goes on a trip with his bourgeois friends to practice shooting, he feels increasingly out of place.

Farouche | combeferre/enjolras | 0.8k

Enjolras and Combeferre's friendly debate about love, family structures, and women goes a wee tiny bit off the rails, and Enjolras reacts even more severely to being hit on when he's interested than when he's not.

Driven Like the Snow | éponine/marius, éponine/montparnasse | 2.9k

The night after the Gorbeau robbery, Eponine wanders the streets of Paris.

Unravel | éponine/marius | 18.2k

Éponine Thénardier can "unravel" time--jump backward a few minutes or hours and let events play out again, sometimes slightly different from before. It's a secret little thing that she uses occasionally, to get herself out of trouble or avoid minor accidents. She's never tried to do anything big with it because, on the whole, she's happy with her life--her family's inn is successful, they live in a nice neighborhood in Paris, and she's in love with a kind and beautiful boy named Marius. But when her lover is killed on the barricades of the June Rebellion, she has to try to fix it--even if it means using her power on a scale she's never dreamed of. Even if it means throwing away everything else she has.

Under a Moonlit Sky | bahorel/fantine | 25.1k

The year is 1817. After Félix Tholomyès' little suprise, a despairing Fantine thinks she might go to her hometown of M-sur-M to find work. Instead, she decides to find Tholomyès and make him acknowledge Cosette. Enter a young man who would love to have an excuse to travel South (as far away from the law faculty as possible) and is uniquely suited to hunting down terrible men...

In Which Is To Be Learned The Name of Enjolras's Fake Fiancée | cosette & enjolras | 52.3k (unfinished)

It was true, Cosette allowed, that he was nothing at all like the beautiful young man from the Luxembourg, but she must not judge him unkindly for that. The world was full of young men, and it would be quite tedious if all the handsome ones were handsome in the same way.

[rachelazegler]

people who are 100 percent sure unrequited buddie is gonna happen. god i wish i could live in your reality right now

[1shouldbedoinghomeworknow]

Will you bring flowers to a funeral of mine?

Blood. So much blood. It was everywhere, on her– no, his hands, on the floor, seeping into the ground and soaking the grass. But she–he didn’t feel anything anymore. Not anymore. Guess the pain was numbed out now. He was lying on the grass, paper in one hand and knife in the other. Finally, she’d like him. Or at least, she’d regard him with some amount of sympathy. Just thinking of her made him feel even dizzier than he already felt.

Now that he was a boy, she’d finally like him.

Finally.

He thought back to earlier, penning down the poem to finally put the feelings he’d been avoiding onto paper, to give them a form so that he could tear it up and move on to other things as he’d always done. Nobody cared about his feelings, so why should he? But this felt… Right. It felt like what the other girls had told her about love back at school; only, she’d been unfortunate enough to fall in love with another girl in a completely homophobic society, with a straight girl no less. She was one of the few allies in school and one who didn’t have the “lol gae” type of mentality about it. But she wasn’t entirely supportive about it either. She regarded the community with the same mindset as one might with a bug. She simply left them alone out of distaste and didn’t get too close. 

So of course, being friends with Lucia meant that she had to hide her true feelings, just like she did with everyone else. And oh, what a mistake it was. She spent more and more time with Lucia, doing anything to please her, saying yes to everything she suggested, and getting excited with her about her favorite ships being canon, even if she didn’t really want to. After all, hiding her own opinions was a small price to pay for getting to spend time with Lucia. And spending time with Lucia was what she longed for most. It was why she woke up in the morning, even though the pillows were much more comfortable than real life, why she went to school and powered through the day, talking to other people and pretending as though she cared, why she didn’t jump off or drink the bathroom cleaner under her kitchen sink. Though now, it was going too far, her obsession, her… infatuation.

Because she was the only one she had. The only one who she truly cared about. Lucia, the light in her storm, kept her alive, knowingly or unknowingly. She was the only one who seemed like a real person in her school, compared to all the other people who seemed like walking talking cardboard cutouts. The only one who willingly spent time with her and got to know her, even if she had other friends to talk to.  She was the only one who cared to listen to her rant or infodump about random things. The one who attentively listened to her vent about her absent yet overbearing and abusive parents. Her only comfort.

Though, recently she had to fight for her attention as she had found new friends and worst of all, a boy crush. Seeing her with other people made her insanely jealous, and she’d often write about it in her diary. How she was seemingly “afraid of touch” and refused to hold her hand but she’d go so far as to hug her other friends, or how she was busy but always found time to talk to her other friends. She’d just up and leave mid-conversation to speak to her crush if he was nearby. How she’d say “I care about you, you’re my friend” but then make her feel like she was just an outsider. So she should stop caring about Lucia then, right?

Wrong. The jealousy festered and morphed into an obsessive love that was by most standards abnormal. She’d screenshot every single text she got from her, no matter how mundane or unimportant because every single interaction was priceless. She’d pick up any bit of paper that Luciahad written on and discarded and read the writing over and over till the exact shape of each word was engraved in her mind. She’d do anything to get to spend time with her, once even donning a clown’s wig and making a fool of herself by dancing ridiculously in a room full of people, just so she could look at her reaction. Every single glance, greeting, or gesture, she memorized and wrote down in her diary so she could remember forever. She would do anything for her Lucia.

She would drop anything she was doing to do something for her, even if it was as mundane as getting a pencil she’d misplaced somewhere. She hoped every day that her crush would reject her so that she could comfort her. She’d even daydream about a zombie virus killing everyone else in the world so that it would just be her and Lucia for the rest of eternity. But she knew it was all wishful thinking. She knew that she didn’t care about her even as a friend. Nobody did. 

She’d once confessed to her indirectly, giving her a paper heart and even sharing with her a poem about how her special somebody (Lucia) was the light of her life and everything to her, but that special somebody would never see her that way, that she would only bring her flowers when it was her funeral. Even then, she’d shrugged it off and said, “The poem’s nice, I guess. Hope you’re lucky with that special somebody.” Lucia didn’t care.

So she’d come home that day after school, quietly sobbing for fear of her parents hearing her, contemplating things she hadn’t thought of since Lucia. Cutting, hanging, and drowning were her best options, but she’d come up with something better. Something that would surely get Lucia’s attention and prove her devotion to her. So she took the largest knife in her kitchen, which they used to cut ham, a piece of paper, scissors to cut her hair, a sewing kit, and bandages. Then, she’d snuck out of her house, quietly creeping to Lucia’s home.

Chop.

Finally.

He took the paper in hand, collecting the blood rapidly seeping through the bandages wrapped around his torso on his finger. His final words were now immortalized, yet on paper, his true devotion couldn’t be contained. He stopped trying to contain it. He simply wrote:

“Will you bring flowers to a funeral of mine?”

[seriousbrat]

if snape really loved lily he would never call her a slur, join the organization who wanted people like her dead and abuse her son

welcome to the cruel harsh reality of the world, anon, in which people who love each other sometimes do bad things to one another