#grief and mourning rituals!!!

[prehistoricmancunt]

"Spells are mourning rituals, and mourning rituals can be spells. When you light a candle for your deceased loved one, when you make a cup of coffee with them in mind, when you write them a letter then burn, bury, toss or save it, when you make a Morning Altar or do any other grief exercises I’ve written about before; if you do them with a certain intention, they can all become spells. 

And when you do any spell that centers on the life, death, and memory of your loved one, and the resulting grief, search for justice, peace, understanding, community, or fortitude to bear it all, you are engaging in a mourning ritual. Everything is everything.

In my dad’s house, he has my mom’s ashes, her funeral bulletin, her funeral card, sympathy cards, marathon medals, symbolic objects, trinkets, gifted art and books received after her death all on a shelf in his office. This is an altar, all it needs is intention.

Magic is in everything we do, whether we call it that or not. It doesn’t need to be the fairy godmother with her wings & wand, it can just be the kinetic energy of your body & love & intentions meeting the kinetic energy of herbs & stones & wind & candles & poems. Magic can be prayer & cooking & sweeping & kneeling & protesting & laughing & crying & grieving & mourning, it's doing it on purpose. Because my cells know their cells & your cells & those cells & its cells & her cells have all shuddered & undulated in the same big bang dust & universes & solar flares & the rain & the dinosaurs & & &&& …."

(excerpt from a substack post with a spell for justice, a spell for peace, and a spell for grief I'm working on)

[convexicalcrow]

An interlude, if that's the right word, for the Lost Prince AU. This scene has been in my head for months, but it became clear to me that it had to be a stand-alone piece. I can't just throw this into the third part and be done with it. And so I tried to write it a while back and got nowhere. So I left it. And as I was grinding the skele farm tonight, This Fic Decided It Wanted To Be Written, and so it has been. I am a little late going to bed as I have to be up early tomorrow for class, but I couldn't leave this one unfinished until tomorrow. It is done.

It does involve a mourning ritual, and addresses grief and ancestors and all that trauma, including references to animal death. It may be cathartic. It may not be. But be aware that's the content you're in for if you read this next part. It's short, but I cried a lot writing this. All the Feels came out for this one ngl.

[aimmyarrowshigh]

sometimes you read a post and go, "man, OP has truly never meaningfully met a jewish person, huh."

[greencheekconure27]

Olivia. Take the fool away.

Feste. Do you not hear, fellows? Take away the lady.

Olivia. Go to, you're a dry fool; I'll no more of you:

besides, you grow dishonest.

Feste. Two faults, madonna, that drink and good counsel

will amend: for give the dry fool drink, then is

the fool not dry: bid the dishonest man mend

himself; if he mend, he is no longer dishonest; if

he cannot, let the botcher mend him. Any thing

that's mended is but patched: virtue that

transgresses is but patched with sin; and sin that

amends is but patched with virtue. If that this

simple syllogism will serve, so; if it will not,

what remedy? As there is no true cuckold but

calamity, so beauty's a flower. The lady bade take

away the fool; therefore, I say again, take her away.

Olivia. Sir, I bade them take away you.

Feste. Misprision in the highest degree! Lady, cucullus non

facit monachum; that's as much to say as I wear not

motley in my brain. Good madonna, give me leave to

prove you a fool.

Olivia. Can you do it?

Feste. Dexterously, good madonna.

Olivia. Make your proof.

Feste. I must catechise you for it, madonna: good my mouse

of virtue, answer me.

Olivia. Well, sir, for want of other idleness, I'll bide your proof.

Feste. Good madonna, why mournest thou?

Olivia. Good fool, for my brother's death.

Feste. I think his soul is in hell, madonna.

Olivia. I know his soul is in heaven, fool.

Feste. The more fool, madonna, to mourn for your brother's

soul being in heaven. Take away the fool, gentlemen.

[7outerelements]

I miss my dog. Still finding new memories that rip off the scab. Angry or sad or numb when I'm not sufficiently distracted. I really thought I could be more composed about this. Philosophical, even. Instead I'm berating myself for every evening I spent relaxing in the living room instead of sitting by her bed.

[flowersforthemachines]

Thinking about Rook and Harding's relationship through the lens of Varric's death like. It's crystal clear it has a big impact on Lace - she's angry and distraught in its aftermath, has to psych herself up just to approach the ritual site ("You need to do it, Lace, it needs to be done"). When Rook suggests that she can use her powers to protect people, the first thing she thinks about is that she could've used them to protect people who mattered to her.

But she sees none of that in Rook. Rook comes across as standoffish at best. "Varric knew the danger." There's no in-game chance to reach out to Harding to share that grief, talk about how it affected them.

But it's not like Rook has to do that, right? Maybe they are not that kind of person. Maybe they grieve, but they don't show it, maybe Harding realises she and Rook just aren't as close as she thought they were, and that kind of stings, but you know. What can she do?

But then things happen in the plot. Weisshaupt happens, Shathann, Cyrian. There are so many chances for Rook to express how sorry they are about someone's passing, the loss of life (and Warden Rook especially does not just observe loss, they experience it and don't have to hide it). Harding sees that Rook can reach out to friends in difficult times. They attend the funeral with Bellara, comfort Taash when they need it. They can grieve, and they can help someone through grieving.

And there's that certain feeling of misunderstanding, maybe a hint of resentment, that Harding, a people pleaser, wouldn't dare to confront. What can she say, even? Why are you mourning all those people and not our common friend? Why not Varric? Why not Varric?

Then, she either dies, never finding out the truth, or finds out the truth so late that the rift between her and Rook has become so big they can't just fill it in. She can't undo the way she had been feeling, feeling about something Rook had no idea about. Tricked by Solas, manipulated to think that Varric was alive. Robbed of the chance to grieve a friend together, time lost forever.

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

WHUMP ALPHABET

*anything that can be triggering is most likely listed here, skip this post if you think it might upset you*

A is for asystole, amputation, amnesia, asphyxiation, asthma, autopsy, asylum, abandonment, anxiety, abuse, assault, aneurysm, anger, addiction

B is for blood, bruises, blunt force trauma, burns, bite marks, blisters, betrayal, beating, blindfolding, bondage, brainwashing

C is for cannibalism, cuts, convulsion, concussion, cardiac arrest, corpse, chains, cult, carnage, craniotomy, craniectomy, chest compression, choking, coughing up blood

D is for delirium, dehydration, disfigurement, dismemberment, demonic possession, death, dehumanization, degradation, depression, disease, drowning, distress, despair, dizziness, drug withdrawal

E is for exsanguination, electrical injuries, electroconvulsive therapy, electrocution, execution, exhaustion, eating disorders, emergency room

F is for fever, flu, fatality, flat-lining, fractured bones, fear, fatigue, force-feeding, flagellation, flogging

G is for garroting, gunshot wounds, grief, gallows, guillotine, guilt, gash, gag

H is for hypothermia, heatstroke, hallucination, hyperventilation, hemorrhage, handcuffing, hospital, hanging, hatred, hate

I is for intubation, infection, injuries, injection, illness, internal bleeding, intravenous therapy, insomnia, illusion, innards

J is for jealousy, jugular veins

K is for killing, kidnapping, knife

L is for laceration, lobotomy, ligature marks, lack of oxygen, loss of consciousness, lies, living weapon, locking up

M is for morgue, miscommunication, murder, manslaughter, massacre, mourning, miscarriage, masochism, mistreatment, manipulation, misery, mental illness, malnutrition

N is for nightmares, nausea, necrophilia, necrotizing fasciitis, necrosis

O is for outbreaks, obeying, operating theater

P is for physical restraints, pain, punishment, poison, panic attack, paralysis, PTSD, penetration, pierced lung

Q is for quadriceps tendon rupture, quadriparesis, Quebec platelet disorder

R is for ruptured blood vessels, respiratory failure, rabies, rape, rope, resentment, ritual

S is for schadenfreude, strangulation, starvations, shock collar, shock therapy, straightjacket, sadism, scapegoat, shame, sacrifice, sadness, sorrow, slaughter, suicide, self-harm, self-hatred, self-destruction, stabbing, slavery, seizures, stress, slash, suffering, surrendering, somnophilia, shackles, sepsis, surgery

T is for torture, trauma, tears, toxicity, trust issues, traps, tying up

U is for urinary tract infection, unresponsive, unconsciousness

V is for violence, vomiting, viruses, venom

W is for wounds, weeping, waterboarding, weakness, whipping, whimpering

X is for x-ray

Y is for yellow fever, yelling, yelping

Z is for zombie apocalypse

[azen13]

hello hello! This is my first time doing this but uhh could you make a yandere Jing Yuan where reader is his spouse but disappears out of fucking nowhere (Did reader get isekai'd to Teyvat or something) for damn centuries— No matter how much time has passed, he is still waiting, and waiting, and waiting... And yea, and then reader randomly gets back on a tuesday afternoon who looks absolutely fucking tired btw

"I'm back my homie"

"Yippeee :3 I missed you!!"

Sorry if my English is bad, it's my 2nd language. Also have a great day!

CW: Yandere Themes, Non-Sexual Intimacy

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

I love this idea Anon! I think that it genuinely works fantastically with Jing Yuan's character as a sort of inciting incident for his more possessive tendencies to emerge. Before you disappear, there are some glimpses of it: how he keeps you close to his chest at all times everywhere, from the bustling streets of Aurum Alley to the soothing sheets of the bed you share with him.

The scene was set so serenely. Lan THEMSELVES would have been enticed to lower THEIR bow and take in the fresh air. It was one of Jing Yuan's rare days of rest, when he could indulge in your presence more than he already did. A picnic in a garden, what could be more peaceful? Perhaps it was the way the air stilled when you simply snapped out of existence. There was no time for tearful goodbyes, no last words or final kisses. It was as though every atom in your body simply phased away, defying any natural principles. Jing Yuan wasn't able to even conceptualize it. The moment wasn't tragedy. Tragedy tightened the heartstrings so grief could play a mournful song. He knew tragedy well: Baiheng, Dan Feng, Yingxing, Jingliu, tragedy after tragedy.

But this feeling was not that. Instead, he felt his love—vast and radiant and bright—beginning to collapse upon itself. Without a center, it was simply a force pulling inward, until inward was outward and back again; eventually, every other feeling was lost in the implosion.

He tried to flee from its pull, reasoning that if he could find the center of his love again, it would restabilize. Fleets of Cloud Knights scoured the site of the disappearance, members of the Intelligentsia Guild were contacted. Jing Yuan even personally discussed the matter with several members of the Genius Society, desperate for any sort of purchase. Some explanation, however vague or improbable. Some way.

Try as he might, every road led back into that cool, weightless oblivion. He allowed himself to sink into a pool of it as the world went on. The Xianzhou Luofu needed its General, and this was nothing new. It was simply another loss, and after so many, they began to lose their meaning. It was as though Jing Yuan sat in a small glass tank. Each time he lost someone dear to his heart, the tank filled up to a certain point with water. By this point, he had already been drowning in desolation. But when you had wormed your way into his life, suddenly the walls had begun to crack. In little trickling streams, all his grief began to leave him. When you disappeared, the glass reformed, the tank refilled. Escape was impossible, he conjectured. This was his burden to carry as a Xianzhou General.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Years later, Jing Yuan still can't sleep in his own bed. The sheets, once a delicate dark red, have now begun to go grey with how much dust they are collecting. His home has become a mausoleum of your spirit, a museum of the last remaining marks of your existence. A book on the table. A half-empty cup of coffee. The bedsheets are pushed back in such a way that if Jing Yuan tries hard enough, he can conjure your image, sleepily clambering out of bed. The mental hologram lurches to the bathroom; after a few minutes, they walk back out. Some days you would climb back into bed, other days you would start cooking breakfast.

He performs this ritual every night before going to bed on the couch, and tries to remember every detail as exact as possible. But memories only fade. They are ephemeral, like autumn leaves and evening light. Their existence can be prolonged, but never immortalized.

In the middle of the night, Jing Yuan stirs.

"...Yuan?"

"Jing Yuan? Why are you sleeping on the couch?"

You. For a moment, the realization is so powerful, of such high dimensionality, it doesn't fully register in Jing Yuan's mind. He can only comprehend sections and slices of it. You're here. You're here with him.

The rest of the night is spent on the couch, as you hold Jing Yuan close. He stays awake for hours, afraid that he might lose you again if he falls asleep. When he wakes up with you by his side, the tank shatters. But the hole in his heart remains. It cannot return to its original state, cannot expand outwards; it can only draw its center inwards, and keep it there.

For the first few days, you understand why Jing Yuan is so protective, why he doesn't let you leave him for even a moment. You have no recollection of suddenly disappearing. Your mind fabricated events: after your picnic, you went home and fell asleep. Then you woke up in the middle of the night. If you had lost Jing Yuan for years, you would certainly be clingy.

But time leaks by quicker and quicker, like a dam slowly breaching, before you realize it's been months and you've hardly left your home. You've gone on a few walks, but those have been only on sparse streets. Though, with the way Jing Yuan clutches you so tightly, you'd think you're in the middle of a battleground.

When you pose the question to Jing Yuan, he only smiles and waves off your concerns. He assumed that with how long you've been gone, you needed some time to get reacclimated to life. You remind him that to you, there was no period between your disappearance and reappearance. Jing Yuan hums and draws you closer, placing a hand on your cheek. His thumb reaches up to your lip, gently brushing against it.

"I understand, dearest. But in any case, you must understand how...alarming the situation was for me. I simply fear I may lose you again and wish to keep you safe. Will you let me do that, my love?"

Suddenly, you find your question ricocheting straight back to you. Jing Yuan's hand squeezes gently, his eyes gazing at you with such placid fondness. But beneath the static surface, you can see the turbulence in his soul. There is something different about your husband, something deeply wrong. What is challenging is that you can't find any loose threads in Jing Yuan's logic. You understand how difficult it must have been for him. That doesn't mean his overprotectiveness is right either.

Even so, you find yourself acquiescing.

"Good," Jing Yuan praises. His other hand reaches against your back, pushing you into him. "I'm glad you agree with me. I would hate to have to make you understand." Despite how his voice coos like a sparrow, his eyes are as sharp as a hawk's, ready to swoop down and catch its prey.

And so the days continue to pass by in an unchanging domesticity. Jing Yuan takes you on more walks and gives you more freedom, but despite how far you wander, you can always feel the gravity of his love, pulling you back into his orbit.

[n4tsum1-san]

as sweet as this year's lantern rite ending was, i think it would've been better if the traveler didn't find hu tao in the border in time:

after the ritual is done, everyone reconvenes at liyue harbor. the traveler comes back alone, holding the extinguished staff of homa. her friends hold a memorial service for the 77th director who gave her life so valiantly.

yun jin regrets not performing the tao dou opera earlier that day; now hu tao will never get to hear it. xingqiu has lost a friend whom he can be himself around, no pretenses, just pranks and poetry. xiangling will never chat with her over dinner again, never be able to cook for her again. xiao and zhongli stand silent, their grief muted by the crushing numbness of past friends lost to time. ningguang is haunted by the memory of another director who died on wuwang hill, another soul sacrificed for the living who go on unaware. how much farther will death encroach on their world? how long until history repeats itself again?

everyone mourns...

...only for hu tao to crash her own funeral, having survived miraculously by a thread, and wondering why everyone is gathered together in one spot? are they having a party without her?

[wangxianficfinder]

In the mood for...

Apr 14th

~*~

1. for the next itmf: any babytrapping fics??

truly a love story for the ages by sweetlolixo (E, 4k, WangXian, Modern AU, Omegaverse, Dark LWJ, Dark WWX, Alpha LWJ, Omega WWX, Dark!Wangxian, Power Couple, slight daddy kink, Crack, Pregnant WWX)

Just to keep you by koalaoshiz (E, 3k, WangXian, Somnophilia, a very grey consensual somnophilia, canon consensual non-consent, canon wangxian behavior, Baby Trapping, mention of MPREG, canon wangxian pregnancy kink, Lack of Communication, Blow Jobs, Cowgirl Position, Ambiguous/Open Ending)

common love isn't for us by ashbrownpatate (E, 6k, WangXian, Dark LWJ, A/B/O Dynamics, Alpha LWJ, Omega WWX, Manipulation, Baby Trapping, Mpreg, Canon Divergence, Dubious Consent, References to this universe's version of rape culture, Smut, gusu lan womb tattoo, Dark WWX, dark Wangxian)

truly a love story for the ages by sweetlolixo (E, 4k, WangXian, Modern AU, Omegaverse, Dark LWJ, Dark WWX, Alpha LWJ, Omega WWX, Dark!Wangxian, Power Couple, slight daddy kink, Crack, Pregnant WWX)

~*~

2. Hi itmf,

A) the untamed and harry potter crossover fanfics.

B) Cultivation world critical.

2A)

love potion no. 9 by ria_green (G, 2k, WangXian, Hogwarts, Oblivious WWX, Fluff and Humor, Amortentia, Patronus, Love Confessions, Fusion, POV Outsider, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions)

🔒 an armful of warmth by Alaceron (G, 3k, WangXian, Harry Potter Setting)

Unheard Voices, Open Ears by vamprav (M, 31k, WangXian, Harry Potter, Fusion, YLLZ WWX, Ghost CD, HP Gets Therapy, Trauma, Healing Rituals, Horcrux Destruction, HP is a Horcrux, HP Has Nightmares, HP Has a Crush, Immortal LWJ, Immortal WWX, WWX Has No Golden Core, Sentient Burial Mounds, Nonbinary MXY, MXY Lives )

2B)

The River Brought You Here by ChilianXianzi (Not Rated, 11k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, POV Outsider, Amnesia, not JC friendly, Past abuse, Strangulation, Found Family)

Meet you at a different place by tawaen (M, 57k, WQ & WN, WN & MXY & WQ, WQ & WWX & WN, Eventual WangXian, Ghost General WN, Ghost WQ, Canon Divergence, WQ comes back to haunt the cultivation world, Bad idea to kill the one person who didn’t kill anyone, Cultivation World Critical, Not JC Friendly, Wen Remnants Deserve Better, Sīsī Deserves Better, MXY Deserves Better, POV WQ)

🔒From the beyond Series by apathyinreverie (T, 11k, WangXian, BAMF LWJ, Cultivation World Critical, Fix-It of sorts, Canon Divergence, lwj takes a-yuan and leaves the cultivation world, Some angst, Fluff, Ghost wwx, BAMF WWX, Domestic WangXian, rogue cultivators wangxian, Oblivious WWX, Smitten LWJ, everyone adores wwx, Time Skips)

🔒In spirit by apathyinreverie (T, 1k, WangXian, BAMF LWJ, Cultivation World Critical, LWJ being pissed and WWX watching delightedly from the sidelines, As a ghost, for now, Fix-Itof sorts, Canon Divergence, lwj takes a-yuan and leaves the cultivation world, Some angst, Fluff)

🔒Black and white by apathyinreverie (T, 10k, WangXian, Fluff, Gusu Lan Sect Rules, Protective LSZ, Protective LWJ, not particularly Gusu Lan friendly, parents wangxian, Mutual Pining, Oblivious WWX, Communication, Post-Canon)

💖 And They Have Escaped The Weight of Darkness by cosmicmilktea (T, 10k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Amnesia, Memory Loss, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Screw the Cultivation world tbh, The Lan precepts deserves better, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Falling In Love, domestic life, Social justice boyfriends wangxian, Happy Ending)

~*~

3. hi!!! i was wondering—anyone have any recs where wangxian have a daughter? specifically. im in a mood. can be modern, canon, etc., any setting as long as 1) they have a girl!!!! 2) it follows canon dynamics somewhat (so no btmji—just a personal preference!) thank you all and thank you mods 🥺💙❤️

❤️ Attempting the Impossible by Ariaste for williedustice (T, 36k, WangXian, JC & WWX, Post-Canon, Yunmeng Bros Reconciliation, Adoption, Family Fluff, Kid fic, Family drama, Fluff, 🔒[PODFIC] Attempting the Impossible by Ariaste by lunatique)

All This Devotion by vesna (mrsronweasley) (E, 33k, WangXian, Mpreg, Part Two, overly indulgent nonsense, Curtain fic)

sweet lotus petals, unfolding in the sun by stiltonbasket (G, 33k, WangXian, Unplanned Pregnancy, Married WangXian, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Curtain Fic, Medical Inaccuracies, Mpreg, wangxian dual cultivation baby, except not how you think, Reincarnationcan, be read independently!)

In Sickness and In Health (And In Strange and Unexpected Times Too) by purplemonster (E, 28k, WangXian, Fem! WWX, Mpreg, well technically not mpreg since he's a woman Fluff and Smut)

Brilliant Love by brooklinegirl (E, 9k, WangXian)

All I Want by Selenay (E, 47k, WangXian, Modern AU, No Powers, Mpreg, Post Holiday Romance, Consequences, Reunions, Idiots in Love, Teacher WWX, Rating earned in later chapters, Handwavey Biology)

An Old Cardboard Produce Box for a Cradle by julomaiboulomai, mischiefseven (T, 25k, WangXian, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Canon Divergence, Sentient Burial Mounds, Golden Core Reveal, Everyone Lives)

These Two Most Powerful by stiltonbasket (G, 4k, WangXian, Married Life, Family Feels, Parenthood, Temporary Amnesia, Time Travel, it's amnesia but it feels like time travel to lwj, Mild Angst, Happy Ending)

To Respect a Scholar by FlautistsandPeonies (G, 5k, wangxian, LQR & WWX, WWX's canon genius, not JC friendly, author WWX)

Where the Lonely Ones Go by CSHfic & VSfic (T, 24k, WangXian, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Case Fic, Night Hunts Fluff, Established Relationship, Mystery, Married Life, Domestic Fluff, Haunting, Kid Fic, Post-Canon, gratuitous use of empathy)

🔒 Baby Whisperer Wei Wuxian by Preludian_Staves (T, 15k, WangXian, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Canon Divergence, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Not Jiang Clan Friendly, Arranged Marriage, (eventually for reasons), endgame wangxian, Parent-Child Relationship, Soft WWX, Pining LWJ, Good Parent WWX, WWX Is Good With Children, Single Parent WWX, Fluff and Angst, Rituals, Protective WWX, Protective LWJ, Developing Relationship)

🔒 Serendipity b yluckymoonly (T, 6k, WangXian, LSZ/LJY, Post-Canon, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Family Feels, The Juniors and their lack of knowledge of where babies actually come from, Fluff, First time parenting a baby, Mentions of WWX's canon mpreg kink, Adoption, WWX and NHS are BFF, Happy Ending)

~*~

4. Hi! I remembered a couple of fics like these and have a sudden craving for more. ITMF where WY's flirty and friendly character and his teasing jokes is a basis for people (including LZ) making wrong assumptions and judgements that he is an experienced and fleeting lover, or even is outright sleeping around carelessly, when in reality WY is just shy, loyal, very romantic and still a virgin dreaming about true love. Assumptions creating misunderstandings, insecurities, maybe jealousy or hesistance and miscommunication between wangxian, but them resolving in the end by WY and LZ actually talking or with someone else defending WY and clearing up this mess.

Can be friends to lovers, or canon difficult dynamics, or arranged marriage, anything. Any setting, including modern, may be SFW or NSFW, but happy ending please! Thank you^^ @shellennium

Wei Laoshi, Poonslayer by FeelsForBreakfast (E, 6k, WangXian, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, POV LWJ, Top LWJ/Bottom WWX, straight boy wwx, Loss of Virginity, Getting Together, [Podfic] Wei Laoshi, Poonslayer by PandaReads (DrPanda99))

~*~

5. Hiii do you know any fics with a Reddit post format?? Even for just half a chapter

Thank you for ur hard work!!! @mivhal

r/relationships by vespertineflora (T, 8k, WangXian, Modern AU, Social Media, Viral Reddit Post, Pining, Crushes, Friends to Lovers, Awkward Flirting, Romantic Gestures, Romantic Comedy, Love Confessions, Kissing, Happy Ending, r/relationships [podfic] by someplacelikebolivia)

I've really got to ask by Anonymous (T, 1k, JL & WWX, background wangxian, they're described but they don't actually appear, POV Outsider, Modern AU, Not JC Friendly, Not Jiang Family Friendly)

ridiculous future bullshit Series by sami (M, 150k, WangXian, WQ/JC/LXC, WWX & LSZ, LSZ/Other, JYL/OMC, Future Fic, in theory it follows on from an au specifically, The Same Moon Shines Series, the rewriting of history, if the past was different the future is different, But still ridiculous, Humour, the evolution of fashion, immortals through history, LWJ visits other cultures and judges them, Modern AU, a centuries-long game of telephone, best boy LSZ, Pride Parades, Cats, the legend of WQ, Academia, Border Crossings, biosecurity, Paperwork, Family, Parents and Children, Uncles and nephews, the mortifying ordeal of your family seeing how you really live, Social Media, Chaos Gremlin WWX, University, outsider pov, Movie Stars, Fluff, Weddings, Adventures) I would say something in Sami's ridiculous future bullshit, I think the haunted house one?

🔒🧡 Truth Will Out (when caught on video) - End_OTW_Racism! by KizuKatana (E, 178k, wangxian, WN & WWX & WQ, graphic depictions of violence, modern cultivation, canon divergence, YZY abuses WWX, caught on camera, partial core removal, WWX kicked out of Jiang sect, livestreamer WWX, meet ugly, dual cultivation, smut, no war) Also I think the side stories in Caught on 4k is in that format? Or social media anyway

you gotta help me; i’m losing my mind by livinginaworldofnoise (G, 3k, WangXian, Modern AU, Social Media, Reddit AU, Crack, wangxian seeking advice from reddit, Misunderstandings, Miscommunication, Assumptions of Cheating, but you know what they say about assuming things, Unconventional Format, Epistolary, Kinda?, [Podfic] Cold read of you gotta help me; i’m losing my mind by kisahawklin) part of a series of reddit stories!

~*~

6. Hello! For in the mood, does anyone know fics where lwj and jin ling have an uncle-nephew bond?

picking up the pieces by KouriArashi (M, 111k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Alternate Canon, Grief/Mourning, Angst, Regret, Family, Kid Fic, Families of Choice, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Politics, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Canon-Typical Violence, canon typical political bullshit, Eventual Happy Ending) this is an AU where Jiang Cheng dies instead of Jiang Yanli. Jiang Yanli raises Jin Ling while Lan Zhan raises A-Yuan while living together in Lotus Pier

~*~

7. Hello

I was hoping to find WangXian fics set in the Hunger Games au. I've read The Hanging Tree series by chatonnerie, and was hoping to read more of such stories. @shenmiao98

the stars above us by Laurine (E, 107k, XiCheng, Hunger Games Setting, Blood and Violence, Murder, Angst with a Happy Ending, Slow Burn, Hurt/Comfort, No cultivation setting, No Powers, Stabbing, Implied/Referenced Torture, Canon-Typical Violence, Hunger Games-Typical Death/Violence, Referenced mutilation, Ableist Language, Burns, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Asthma, Death by lava, Loss of Limbs, Mutant Animals, Death by animals, Explosions, Suicide Attempt, Suicide Pact, suicide ideation, Betrayal, PTSD, Depression, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Abus,e Implied/Referenced Slavery, Anal Fingering, Frottage, Established Relationship, Time Skips, Anal Sex)

archer by antebunny (G, 7k, JC & WWX, Modern AU, Modern Cultivators AU, Olympic Sports AU, JC centric, good mom YZY, good bro wwx, No character bashing, only character uplifting, Tournaments, very loosely inspired by the Hunger Games)

Yuánhén – Resentment by Sian265 (M, 46k, WangXian, Canon Divergence Violence, Horror, War, Fluff, Happy Ending)

our lives, never ours by glitteringmoonlight (T, 7k, WangXian, Hunger Games Setting, Angst, Minor Violence, Blood, hunger games typical references to violence, implied happy ending, but it's a bit ambiguous)

~*~

8. itmf any hidden or mistaken identity wangxian fics! Thank you! <3

points for style by isabilightwood (E, 11k, WangXian, Modern, Mutual Pining, Identity Porn, (Accidental)Mistaken Identity, the lightest of angst, nhs causes problems on purpose, lxc also causes problems but with good intentions, Gratuitous Costume Descriptions, Costume Parties & Masquerades, Miscommunication, Scientist WWX, Kindergarten Teacher LWJ, Semi-Public Sex, Bottom LWJ, Wall Sex, Getting Together, Fluff and Smut, wwx is in the process of adopting a-yuan)

Masquerade by orphan_account (T, 4k, WangXian, Costume Parties & Masquerades, Identity Porn, Identity Reveal, First Kiss, Promises, teenagers being teenagers, Making Out, canon typical alcohol drinking, Kissing in unsafe locations, Pre-Canon, Not Canon Compliant, Marriage Proposal, Cloud Recesses)

Crazy, Rich Cultivators by ShanaStoryteller (Not rated, 13k, wangxian, Modern Cultivation, Idiots in Love, Misunderstandings, POV LWJ, īthis started as a crazy rich asians au but quickly got away from me, light moments of angst but mostly shenanigans)

🧡 One Can Keep A Secret (If He Does Not Know It's There) by H_Belle (T, 5k, WangXian, Modern Cultivators, Inventor WWX, Secret Identity, Identity Reveal, YLLZ WWX, Rogue Cultivator WWX, Pining LWJ, POV WWX, Background Wangxian Getting Together, Jiangs are only mentioned in the passing, inspired by a tumblr post)

Roadside Attractions by Bodldops (T, 10k, WangXian, Teacher WWX, Teacher LWJ, The power of organized aunties)

silhouettes to steal this night by moonsteps (T, 51k, WangXian, Modern, Assassins & Hitmen, Roommates, Rivals to Lovers, Fluff and Angst, Identity Porn, Violence, Blood and Injury, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Secret Identity)

This Tornado Loves You by FeelsForBreakfast (M, 8k, WangXian, Horror, modern cultivation au, Pizza Hut, Humor, Mistaken Identity, Modern with Magic)

Many happy returns. by orange_crushed (E, 25k, WangXian, Modern AU, Mistaken Identity, Misunderstandings, Grief/Mourning, Loss of Parent(s), Implied/Referenced Suicide, Past Suicide of a Parent, References to Depression, Anxiety, Therapy, References to Anti-Depressant Medications, Escort Service, Loneliness, Everybody’s Abandonment Issues, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Domestic Fluff, Moving In Together, Oral Sex, Penetrative Sex, Hopeful Ending, Recovery, References to Escorting/Sex Work but No Actual Escorting/Sex Work)

~*~

9. for the next itmf- any fics where lan wangji gets his ass eaten out by wwx? not the other way around. extra bonus points if it’s lwj POV. thank u <3

~*~

10. Teen mamaxian for inmf anyone??

The Winner Takes It All by YilingSani (M, 46k, WangXian, Modern AU, Single Parent WWX, Old Friends, One Night Stands, No Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Forgiveness, Second Chances, Inspired by Mamma Mia! (Movies) Teen Pregnancy, Mpreg, mention of miscarriage, Birth Trauma, amniotic fluid embolism)

All The Years Lost by UseMyMuse (T, 26k, WangXian, Teen Pregnancy, Angst with a Happy Ending, Single Parent AU, Forced misunderstandings, Forced miscommunication, Mpreg)

Take Responsibility by draechaeli (E, 187k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Mainly Novel with a few CQL and Donghua bits, Everybody Lives, Original Children Characters, Adoption, Adoption but WWX birthed them all, Mpreg, Teen Pregnancy, Pregnancy Kink, Male Lactation, Lactation Kink, Consensual Non-Consent, Light Bondage, Pregnant Sex, easy to skip nsfw chapters, Fix-It, Happy Ending)

~*~

11. Itmf nerdy WWX fics! Ones where he shows an interest in things like books, studying and creating! Bonus if people are surprised by it! :D

Thanks a bunch <3

The Shade of Old Trees by Kryal (T, 363k, WangXian, History, Canon Divergence, Modern, Slow Burn, Worldbuilding, Slow Life, Action/Adventure, Magic Returns, BAMF WWX)

All Things Belong by kuroi_atropos (M, 93k, WRH & WWX, WangXian, WWX is a Wēn, Abuse, Whipping, Manipulations, Warning: WRH, Smart WWX, Possessive Behavior, Warning: JGS, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Past Rape/Non-con, Society Level Victim Blaming, Victim Blaming)

The Threads of Fate by WaitForTheSnitch (E, 186k, WIP, WangXian, Time Travel Fix-It, Canon Divergence, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Cloud Recesses Shenanigans, Good Uncle LQR, Protective LWJ, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Pining LWJ, WWX in WWX’s Body, JC & WWX Reconciliation, Oblivious WWX, Siblings JC & WWX, Supportive JYL, Protective NHS, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Comic Book Science)

🔒 Building it back, stone by stone and seal by seal by KizuKatana (M, 134k, WangXian, WWX & Wen Remnants, WWX & Wen Siblings, canon-divergent, post cultivation war, nobody won, Found Family, Comfort fic, carving out a new safe home, First Time)

Dispersing Clouds by dreamingofcake (E, 283k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Genius WWX, Inventor WWX, Not Jiang Family Friendly, Abusive YZY, Canonical Child Abuse, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Eventual Sex, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm (Background Character), Background Character Deaths, child deaths, Canon JC, Good Uncle LQR, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Cultivation Sect Politics, Homophobia, Heteronormativity, Feelings Realization, WWX is Not Oblivious)

~*~

12. Hii! Are there any fics where lwj is horrible towards wwx in the beginning cuz of some prejudice? (Like he thinks wwx is a immoral or "flighty" not fit for him) And wwx gets real sad and quiet and only then lwj realizes his mistake??

If only I loved you better by YumichanHamano (T, 24k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Adjacent AU, Second Chances, Time Travel, married wangxian in the past life, lwj has regrets, Falling In Love) Lan Wangji acts distant with Wei Ying at first, but later he regrets

🔒Concord by Deastar (T, 41k, WangXian, Arranged Marriage, Gūsū Lán Sect Rules, Depression, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending) so, so good!

~*~

13. Hi! This is my first ITMF! Hehe. Is there by chance any fics about these?

A. The characters reincarnating in the future like modern times with their memories from the past?

B. Past MDZS reacting to modern times? Or maybe their actor selves?

Thanks ahead! ★♥︎ @linzyia

13A)

these all involve the characters getting their memories of their past lives at some point during modern times (but not from the beginning) so I hope that’s okay:

🔒 Closer Than Eternity by Netrixie (T, 26k, WangXian, JYL/JZX, LSZ & LWJ & WWX, Reincarnation, Modern, an unhealthy addiction to starbucks, Immortals, cultivation is -kinda- commonplace, Self-Doubt, POV Alternating, Minor Original Character(s), Canon Compliant, Post-Canon, Temporary Character Death, Angst with a Happy Ending, not for JC fans)

Have We Met Before by thelastdboy (T, 7k, WangXian, POV WWX, Modern: No Powers, First Meetings, College/University, Reincarnation, Strangers to Lovers, Slow Burn, Getting Together, Developing Relationship, Love Confessions, First Kiss, CSSR and WCZ Live, WWX Has a Family, Older Sibling WWX, Queer Themes, Demisexual WWX, Parent-Child Relationship, Friendship, Heteronormativity, Pining WWX, Fluff, Madam Lan Lives)

living in my memory/living in my mouth by tardigradeschool (T, 32k, wangxian, modern w/ magic, reincarnation, college/university au, hurt/comfort, sharing a bed, light angst, nightmares, epistolary, pining, friends to lovers)

🔒The Life Cycle of the Frog and the Fish by Aerlalaith (T, 53k, wangxian, modern, fairy tale elements, reincarnation, fluff & angst, humor, illnesses, curses)

to hold the wind by androids_fighting93, artbysongs (E, 62k, WangXian, MianLi, Soulmates, Modern AU, Reincarnation, College/University, Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Hurt/Comfort, Disownment, LWJ Loves Rabbits, Touch-Starved LWJ)

Yiling Poltergeist by jaemyun (G, 16k, wangxian, Modern AU, Mention of canon history, Ghost! Wwx, Past Lives, Reincarnation, Humor, Fluff)

13B)

these feature characters time traveling from canon times to modern times:

take me back to a time by DizziDreams (T, 143k, WangXian, College/University, Modern with Magic, Time Travel, Sharing a Bed, Fish out of Water, Man Out of Time, WWX questionable decisions, LWJ lizard brain, Angst with a Happy Ending, WWX's lack of self-preservation, Student WWX, Time-Traveling Wizard LWJ, Slow Burn, Character Death, reference to abuse, Canonical Character Death, Canonical Abuse, Canon LWJ, Canon-Typical Violence, Mutual Pining, Chronic Illness, Not A Fix-It, WWX be like "i should be scared but instead im just horny", feat: lwj horny grip, Case Fic, Transmigration, America, [Podfic of] take me back to a time by dreamhazer)

🔒Confusion by Vrishchika (Not Rated, 5k, WangXian, Time Travel)

不忘 | Don't Forget by dragongirlG (E, 50k, WangXian, Modern AU, Canon Divergence, Time Travel, Reincarnation, Fix-It of Sorts, Identity Porn, Social Media, Reunions, Family, Angst with a Happy Ending, Light Bondage, References to Canon, Artist WWX, Sexual Content, Pining, POV Multiple, Additional Warnings In Author's Note)

忘不了你的爱 (can't forget your love) by PorcupineGirl (G, 25k, WangXian, Time Travel, Modern with Magic, Modern Cultivators AU, Canon Divergence, Time Traveler WWX, discussion of canonical character deaths, a whole lot of handwaving, conveniently localized fires, Discussion of Canonical Suicide Attempt, mostly happy but slightly bittersweet ending)

The Shade of Old Trees by Kryal (T, 363k, WangXian, History, Canon Divergence, Modern, Slow Burn, Worldbuilding, Slow Life, Action/Adventure, Magic Returns, BAMF WWX) canon-era Wei Ying is thawed from a block of ice in modern times.

~*~

14. Would love some recommendations for fics that explicitly acknowledge that WWX's path is ghostly, not demonic; that his cultivation is not actually harming him, except maybe when it comes to dealing with the Seal; and that any changes to his behaviour etc are due to massive trauma instead of his wielding of resentment. I prefer CQL characterisations but mixed or novel canon is okay too, since I'm aware CQL muddied the waters a bit regarding how his path works. Thank you! 🪈🐇 @linderel

🔒the thread may stretch or tangle but it will never break by RoseThorne (E, 105k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Soulmates, Self-Esteem Issues, Fix-It, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, PTSD, Handfasting, Panic Attacks, Getting Together, First Time, Aftercare, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, /Referenced Torture, Scars, Chronic Pain, Golden Core Reveal, First Time, Switching, sex-related injury, LWJ Stays at the Burial Mounds, LSZ is a Wèi, Good Sibling JC, Dissociation, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Disability, Scheming NHS, Disabled Character)

Untethered by Hauntcats (M, 29k, WIP, WangXian, not Jiang friendly, Not JC Friendly, No Golden Core Transfer, Time Travel Fix-It, Canon Divergence, BAMF WWX, BAMF LWJ, BAMF NHS, Angst with a Happy Ending, Not Lan Friendly, Not LXC friendly, not LQR friendly, Not Cultivation World Friendly, Content warning for suicidal thoughts and mental illness., Dark WWX, Dark LWJ)

A Measure Of Time by NebulusCharlie (Not Rated, 309k, WangXian, Revenge, Darkji, jiang bashing, Protective LWJ, protective wwx, Time Travel Fix It, good uncle lqr, Murder Babies, Heavy on the angst in the middle but i swear it gets better, Canon Typical Violence, Kidfic, Hugs, Good Parental Figures, Found Family, bad Qingheng-Jun, Heavenly Trials, destroying the Yin Iron pieces)

爱不释手; never let me go by yiqie (E, 68k, WangXian, All the clan leaders, Literally so many OCs, Case Fic, Blood and Injury, Demons, Body Horror, Mystery, The intrinsic horniness of wound tending)

🔒 Ad Oblivione by Baph, HikariNoHimeWriter (M, 70k, WangXian, Time Travel Fix-It, Temporary Character Death, Canon-Typical Violence, POV Multiple, Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Identity Reveal, Golden Core Reveal, Cultivation World Critical, Not JC Friendly, Abusive YZY, Angst with a Happy Ending)

A Long Road by Vathara (T, 175k, WangXian, Valdemar Series by Mercedes Lackey, Fluff and Angst, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Scheming NHS, Necromancy, Fire, Ghosts, Accidental Child Acquisition, is it an accident if the ghosts keep bringing them?) crossover with Valdemar by Vathara, this is explicitly called out by a mindhealer

Tether by Annerb (M, 161k, WangXian, Cursed LWJ, Canon Divergence, Post-Sunshot Campaign, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Angst with a Happy Ending, Pining, Family Feels, Yin Iron, Temporary Character Death, Canon-Typical Violence, aftermath of a war)

~*~

15. Are there an fics with Wangji as a war prize for the yiling patriarch, with slow burn and then just learning how to trust and lean on each other? Also I apologize if I've already asked this before because I'm unsure if I did or not. Have a good day or night😁 @yasssbassss

inevitable everything by isabilightwood (E, 193k, WangXian, WQ/MM, JYL/JZX, BSSR/LY, Canon Divergence, YLLZ WWX, but WWX is BSSR's disciple/adoptive grandson too, the cultivation sects think this is a, War Prize AU, it's actually self-arranged marriage, Arranged Marriage, yin iron shenanigans, LWJ Has Friends, Mutual Pining, Pining while fucking, LWJ Has a YLLZ Kink, Switch WangXian, BDSM, Submissive LWJ, Dominant WWX, Angst with a Happy Ending, magical illness of a side character (who will get better), Rope Bondage, Impact Play, Rimming, Bottom LWJ, Temperature Play, Face-Fucking, Breathplay, (talisman-based breathplay to be specific), Cock Warming, Public Scene, no one gets naked in public this is the sense of WWX invents the, Remote Controlled Vibrator, Semi-Public Sex, Outdoor Sex, Blindfolds, one qingmian smut scene with oral and fingering, Minor Character Death, All Sex Scenes Are Skippable!)

💖🔒 love, in fire and blood by cicer (E, 360k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, YLLZ WWX, Arranged Marriage, political scheming, Gratuitous Domesticity, Mutual Pining, EXTREME SLOWBURN, the inherent eroticism of the forehead ribbon, The Mortifying Ordeal of Being Known, neither wwx nor lwj want to be Perceived, but sorry kids! it’s gonna happen!, rated E but the the NSFW stuff doesn’t begin until chapter 19!, bottom LWJ in chapter 20 and 27)

🔒 between the shadow and the soul by Reverie (cl410) (M, 22k, WangXian, JYL/WQ, JC/NHS, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Family, Dark WWX, Feral WWX, Memory Loss, Magic, Magical Realism, Protective LWJ, Protective JC, Protective JYL, Grief, BAMF WWX, POV Alternating)

what price is duty, what cost is love by thunderwear (G, 18k, wangxian, canon divergence, WWX was never adopted to Jiang, war prize, YLLZ WWX, pining, first kiss, first time, falling in love, angst w/ happy ending)

❤️ A Myriad of Blossoms by Itszero (E, 56k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Arranged Marriage, Forced Marriage, YLLZ WWX, Hurt LWJ, Cruel wwx, he's cruel until he's not, Protective WWX, Caring WWX, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Eventual Smut, Bottom LWJ, Dark WWX)

~*~

16. hello! is like to submit an itmf request for fics w lan jingyi, the most un-lan of the gusu lans! i'm seeking recs for fics with development of his character: things that go beyond his portrayal as a chaos gremlin (which is also very wonderful), to explore his sense of justice, loyalty, outspokenness, etc. he absolutely doesn't have to be a main character/centre in the fic though, so not just character studies. some examples include the resolutions series by incendir, and rule of law by deastar (both of which i highly rec!).

i prefer canon era, post-canon, and canon-like setting fics, because these contexts usually lend themselves better to what i'm looking for, but i'm open to all suggestions! thank you! @potatokunst

Why Not Me? by Eleanor_Fenyx (G, 26k, LJY & LQR, LQR & LWJ, LJY & LSZ, LJY & LWJ, Good Uncle LQR, POV LJY, War Orphan LJY, Character Study, LJY Has ADHD, and the only ones prepared to see that and help are LQR and LWJ, set while WWX is dead, Found Family, Rejection Sensitivity Dysphoria, things feel so Big when you're young and sad and lonely and no one understands you)

🔒best friends forever by varnes (T, 16k, WangXian, LingYi, Arranged Marriage, Yungmeng Sibling Reconciliation, Juniors shenanigans)

green flame, black flute, red ribbon by Fleetling (T, 3k, WangXian, LJY & LSZ, LJY POV, wwx kills people violently and with extreme prejudice, Hurt/Comfort, i think, yeah warnings for kidnapping, intimidation using weapons)

it's a long road but we're not alone by Stratisphyre (M, 62k, WangXian, JYL & WWX, LWJ & LJY, JL & LSZ & LJY & OYZZ, Canon Divergence, Not Everyone Dies, Canon-Typical Violence, Parenthood, Grief/Mourning, Family Feels, Reunions, Golden Core Reveal, Getting Together)

Lan Sizhui’s Guide to Courtship by Kimblydot (T, 22k, ZhuiYi, WangXian, Friends to Lovers, Falling In Love, Courtship, Misunderstandings, Aged-Up Character(s), Post-Canon, Ensemble Cast, 5+1 Things, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Light Angst, Confessions, Junior Quartet, Fluff)

The crow on the roof by sparkly (G, 17k, WangXian, LQR & WWX, LJY & WWX, POV WWX, Established WangXian, WWX being a badass, LQR is something of a badass himself, Begrudging Mutual Respect, LJY Being LJY, Kidnapping, Minor Violence, Chief Cultivator LWJ, Snark, Forgiveness, tentative friendship)

❤️ The One-Body Problem by metisket (T, 29k, LJY & WWX, LJY & LSZ, WangXian, fun times with possession, warnings for WWX's mental state in general, (he thinks he's fine obviously))

~*~

17. I'm greatly in the mood for some nie huaisang recs 👀 I can pretty please ask for people's favourite nhs centric fics

No character bashing, omegaverse, or mpreg please

🔒 but I’m not in charge of sorrow (so please don’t ask me when) by Tavina (M, 75k, NHS & NMJ, NHS & OCs, LXC & NHS, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Passive Suicidal Ideation, Found Family, Unconventional Families, Families of Choice, Post-Canon, Post-Guānyīn Temple Scene, What’s a Reconciliation Anyway?, Internalized Acephobia, Depression, Mental Health Issues, An Absolute Boatload of Nie OCs, Background characters and relationships, Intergenerational Trauma, the Horrific Persistence of Memory, NHNS Needs a Hug, NMJ is dead even when he’s alive, JGY is also dead but like you get the impression he used to be alive, Sometimes ‘just walk out’ IS the answer, Non-Chronological, lots of people are dead in this fic and this fic is about why it’s not okay)

smoke and mirrors by via_the_cryptid (M, 33k, NHS & NMJ, NHS & WWX, NMJ & WWX, JC & WWX, Hostage Situations, Canon Divergence, BAMF NHS, NHS Knows Everything, NHS & WWX Friendship, NHS Loves NMJ, NMJ Lives, Disfigurement, Dismemberment, Torture, Aftermath of Torture, Whump, Imprisonment, Sunshot Campaign, Introspection, POV NHS, NHS-centric, NHS Needs a Hug, Scheming NHS, Dark JGY, Minor Character Death, mind the tags please, NHS Wields Battle Fans, Hurt No Comfort (for now), Angst with a Happy Ending, Fix-It of Sorts, Not Everyone Dies, No Golden Core Transfer, Pre-NHS/WN, Protective WN, Corpse Desecration, Protective NMJ, NMJ Needs a Hug, Supportive LXC, BAMF WWX, NMJ Loves NHS, Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Qishan Wen Indoctrination, BAMF WN, Cinnamon Roll WN, Protective NHS, NHS is a Little Shit, WWX really just takes everything in stride doesn't he, Stressed NMJ, Good Older Sibling NMJ, WRH Dies, bit of crack tbh, JC has no idea what the fuck is going on, LXC Needs a Hug, Stressed LXC)

playing the fool by via_the_cryptid (T, 18k, NHS & NMJ, NHS & Everyone, WangXian, BAMF NHS, NHS Knows Everything, NHS Saves The Day, NHS Loves NMJ, Time Travel Fix-It, for nhs at least, NHS-centric, Scheming NHS, Protective NMJ, NMJ Lives, WWX Lives, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Protective LWJ, Protective NHS, he lives for the drama and the chaos and to protect his loved ones, watch the fuck out a-yao, JYL and JZX Live, JYL Knows Everything, Canon Divergence, NHS & WWX Friendship, POV NHS)

🔒 The Echoes of that News Ring Loud by Scarlet_Gryphon (T, 111k, NMJ & NHS, 3zun, NHS/WN, JYL/JZX, WangXian, MM & NHS, WQ/2nd Madam Mo, Time Travel Fix-It, NMJ Lives, WWX Raised by a Different Sect, Universal Da-ge NMJ, JGY deserved better, Cinnamon Roll WN, the Nie brothers will do whatever they can to save the world, Temporary character death (but they get better), Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-Typical Behavior, Everyone Lives, Good Guy XY, because let’s not leave kids hurt on the street, Let’s give NHS Battle Fans club member, Gray-Ace power trio 3zun, Canon Divergence, discussions of JGS’s canon-levels of dickery, brief and non-graphic discussion of past rape/non-con due to QS’s origins, Mentions of Nightmares, NHS is a Little Shit, Minor Character Death, Happy Ending)

while covered in mud by merthurlin (T, 12k, NHS & NMJ, NHS & WWX, NNHS & Wen Remnants, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, NHS Goes Farming And Hates It, Weird Horse Girl NMJ, NHS joins WWX’s goth farming commune, and fixes everything)

This Time Around by KouriArashi (T, 83k, JGY & NHS, NHS & WWX, JGY & WWX, Time Travel Fix-It, Kid Fic, Families of Choice, Angst, Grief/Mourning, Politics, Class Issues, Past Child Abuse, Moral Ambiguity, Everybody Lives, Eventual Happy Ending)

~*~

If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Bereavement

Bereavement - the period of mourning and grief following the death of a beloved person or animal.

A normal response to death and loss, which are universal human experiences.

A highly individual as well as a complex experience.

It is increasingly recognized that no two people respond the same way to the losses associated with the death of a loved one.

Comes from an ancient Germanic root word meaning ‘‘to rob’’ or ‘‘to seize by violence.’’

It should ordinarily be allowed to run its course; most counselors maintain that trying to stifle or cut short the grief process is more likely to cause emotional problems later on than to prevent them.

Mourning

Describes the public rituals or symbols of bereavement.

Examples: Holding funeral services, wearing black clothing, closing a place of business temporarily, or lowering a flag to half mast.

Grief

One’s personal experience of loss.

Includes physical symptoms, and emotional & spiritual reactions to the loss.

While public expressions of mourning are usually time-limited, grief is a process that takes most people several months or years to work through.

Bibliotherapy

The use of books (usually self-help or problem-solving works) to improve one’s understanding of personal problems and/or to heal painful feelings.

Biofield healing

A general term for a group of alternative therapies based on the belief that the human body is surrounded by an energy field (or aura) that reflects the condition of the person’s body and spirit.

Rebalancing or repairing the energy field is thought to bring about healing in mind and body.

Examples: Reiki, therapeutic touch, polarity balancing, Shen therapy, and certain forms of color therapy.

Complicated grief

An abnormal response to bereavement that includes unrelieved yearning for the dead person, the complete loss of previous positive beliefs or worldviews, and a general inability to function.

Disenfranchised grief

Grief that cannot be openly expressed because the death or other loss cannot be publicly acknowledged.

Euthanasia

The act of putting individuals or animals to death painlessly or allowing them to die by withholding medical services, usually because they have a painful and incurable disease.

Regression

A return to earlier, particularly infantile, patterns of thought and behavior.

Thanatology

The medical, psychological, or legal study of death and dying.

Traumatic grief

Grief resulting from the loss of a loved one in a traumatic situation (natural or transportation disaster, act of terrorism, or mass murder, etc.).

Source ⚜ Writing Notes & References More: List of Uncommon Emotions ⚜ Pain

[serpentface]

Woman leaping over a fire for the Lagriwe Erub holiday rites. This is a fairly unique holiday in that it is extremely widespread and practiced across class lines, not state official or otherwise officiated by any priesthood/cult, and its rites are closed to men and kept semi-secret.

The basic premise is that it is a day of mourning for the dynasty of the semi-mythological hero Erub, who is broadly considered to be the (venerable) heathen forefather of the collective Wardi people. By tradition, Erub once conquered and united the majority of proto-Wardi peoples and ushered in a century of prosperity before his dynasty was felled by the first Burri Empire. His direct bloodline is said to have ultimately been eradicated in the aftermath, with his heirs supposedly having been brutally executed by being bound and fed alive to hounds and widely thought to still exist as restless ghosts. While the historicity of all this is extremely fraught, this holiday (or at least predecessors of it) is very old and may indeed have originated as a day of mourning during this first period of occupation.

The contemporary practice has many facets beyond mourning an ancient dynasty, and fits into the broader tapestry of agrarian springtime holidays. It additionally functions as a celebration of Erub's collective people, and is an expression of hope for the people’s continued propagation and prosperity and an acknowledgment of the role of women in these matters. It is also a rare opportunity for lay women across class lines to take direct ownership of religious practice, not only getting to participate in full but actively lead and control the rites. Very uniquely, sex workers are permitted to attend and participate, and in some (few) localized variants are allowed to wear a veil for the duration of the rites and be socially protected while doing so.

Given these rites have no state or cult organization, the exact practices can vary heavily between any given community. It has some core commonalities, however. It is always closed to men, and the participants are usually required to be adults. It always occurs on the night of the first new moons after the spring equinox. Participants usually fast for the entire day beforehand, and perform a full body ablution before departing to the ritual grounds. Actually speaking the name of Erub or those of any of his mythological bloodline is forbidden for the duration of the night, and they are only referred to in epithet form.

A generalized overview goes as such:

It begins with participants assembling around dusk in a secluded area near planted crops and setting up a faux funeral, with a bonfire serving as a symbolic pyre. Bundles of the suömitsima flower (an early spring poppy, which in some traditions first sprung from the blood of Erub's dying sons) are thrown into the unlit fire by all in attendance, and libations of wine or milk will be sprinkled around it. One woman will be assigned the role of the funeral drummer for the duration, and she will signal the beginning of the funeral and prompt the fire to be lit.

In legend, Erub's wife Hippemedes committed suicide at his funeral by throwing herself onto his pyre, sometimes interpreted as not only an act of grief but prescience of the impending doom of his kingdom. In the mock funeral, this is acknowledged by those in attendance (usually either a single woman designated Hippemedes for the night, or the entire assembly) performing leaps over the fire. This leap pays respect to this dead forbear and reenacts her grief, while also displaying the continued vitality and prosperity of her distant descendants.

After the leaping is completed, torches are lit from the bonfire and funerary songs and wails are performed until the main flame dies out. The displays of grief are intentionally intense and exaggerated, often an unspoken competition of who can be the loudest and appear most devastated- exposing and beating at the breast, scratching the arms and chest, pulling at the hair, etc. In some traditions, all in attendance will cut off the tips of their braids and throw them in the fire as a miniaturized mourning haircut. While a funerary performance, the tone of this portion is ultimately more jubilant than anything else, less about mourning the distant dead and more about celebrating the well-being of the living. It is an opportunity to relish in the physicality and livelihood of the body, and a Rare opportunity to be VERY loud while not actually grieving.

Attendants then walk a circle around the nearby growing fields in procession, carrying torches. The youngest woman in attendance will be at the head of the party (in some cases mounted on a khait or ox), with the eldest scattering handfuls of dried beans at her feet and continuing the wail in a simulation of a bridal departure. The rest in attendance sprinkle offerings of milk to the crops. This portion has functions of prayer for a good harvest and for the fertility and prosperity of those in attendance, and also tends to be the most solemn portion of the whole affair.

The circle will loop back to the 'funeral' grounds for the final events of the evening. The conclusion is less formalized, usually taking the form of a celebratory meal. Sticky cakes made with coarsely ground camiche nuts or amaranth and honey are a tradition, shaped loosely in the forms of cattle, horses, phalluses, or flowers (all having connotations of prosperity to some extent). There will usually be music and dancing and some sharing of unmixed wine, though whether or not drunkenness is permitted depends on local tradition. Often, those in attendance will set up tents and sleep the rest of the night on the ritual grounds. They will get up after sunrise and disperse back to their homes.

---

In large part due to its age and ubiquity, this unofficial rite is Generally condoned and allowed to occur unimpeded, and most men will allow their wives and adult daughters to leave unaccompanied to attend them. In many cases it's actively facilitated (and partially regulated) by men of the community posting up at a distance to guard the ritual grounds from trespassers.

The Lagriwe Erub is still a subject of patriarchal intrigue and concern, especially due to the secretive nature of much of it. It is sometimes imagined to be a wild and somewhat debased event, with a few commentators here and there expressing concerns that the secretive rites involve mass public nudity (perhaps group sex???!), unsanctified and improper animal sacrifices, possible human sacrifices or straight up murders of any captured peeping men, etc.

[homeofhousechickens]

It's not often you see chickens in the role of the scary monster or the big bad in a horror film or game. Dogs, cats, rats, crows, and even parrots tend to have more favorable roles provided for them in this genre. But chickens don't get regulated to these roles very often. It's very rare that a chicken is the one moving the horror or story forward. Sure you might see a chicken killed for a ritual or a sacrifice, or perhaps a monster decimates a chicken coop leaving a farmer distraught over the mutilated bodies of their beloved flock. Media never lingers on this though and the grief and loss that accompanies it.

Maybe it's because people just don't respect the humble chicken despite there being a global population of them in, well the billions and of those billions of birds the majority of them do not make it to their third year.

I think this is because people are scared to learn more about them. We eat them after all, and it's interesting how this same level of care is reflected so strongly in the horror genre. The chicken in horror only exists to be killed and consumed, never looked at, never pondered, and never mourned.

[tacobacoyeet]

deathless death | art donaldson x reader

a/n: thank you @artstennisracket for the idea and to the rest of challengersblr for your beautiful minds. i kind of took the 'challengers x take me to church' idea and ran in a completely different direction so... i apologize. i meant to post this earlier but i did not, so i apologize. i also apologize for what you're about to read. not only is it sad, it's not exactly great.

warnings: SMUT 18+, death, funeral, grief, religious imagery, hastily proofread

The church was cold.

Not in the way that chilled your bones, but in the way that made silence echo too loudly between the pews—like the building itself was hollow with absence, and mourning had seeped into the wood. Art hadn’t let go of your hand since the car ride, his palm clammy, fingers laced with yours like if he let go, he’d fall apart completely. He hadn’t spoken in over an hour. Maybe longer. Time had blurred, softened at the edges like fog on stained glass.

You didn’t ask him to speak. Not when his jaw was clenched so tight you could hear it grind every time he swallowed. Not when his eyes wouldn’t lift from the floor. Not when his thumb kept twitching against yours, a silent metronome of grief. You knew better than to try and smooth something that was still shattering.

His grandmother’s portrait sat atop the casket, surrounded by white lilies that looked too sharp against the velvet. She was smiling in it—open, kind, the kind of smile that made strangers feel like they belonged. You’d only met her twice, but her presence had clung to the corners of every story Art told about his childhood. That smile was imprinted on his memories, and it had lived in the small moments he gave you: the way he tucked your hair behind your ear, the way he murmured your name like a prayer when he thought you were asleep.

You’d tried once—just once—to crack the stillness. A small laugh that bubbled up without permission, poorly timed, at something the priest had said. Not mocking. Not disrespectful. Just... nervous. Human. You were always like that. The tension-breaking type. The one who tried to breathe joy into rooms that forgot what warmth felt like. You’d immediately bit your lip, guilt blooming in your chest like a bruise, but Art didn’t look at you with reproach. He didn’t look at you at all—but his thumb stroked over yours in a single, brief motion. Reassurance. Understanding. Maybe even gratitude.

And then the priest said her name.

Art’s breath hitched. Just once. Barely there. But you felt it like a fault line snapping beneath your feet. His shoulders, rigid with formality all morning, finally sagged. His grip tightened. And then, like a dam breaking, the tears came.

They didn’t fall in sobs. Not at first. They slid silently down his cheeks, trailing past the sharp line of his jaw, glistening in the too-bright light of the sanctuary. He didn’t move to wipe them away. He didn’t hide. He just let them fall, and you—helpless in your seat beside him—reached up to catch them. You brushed them away like they were sacred.

When he finally leaned into you, it was with the weight of someone who hadn’t allowed themselves to need anything in years.

Back in the hotel room, the silence followed you like smoke. Thick, clinging, unavoidable.

Art peeled off his suit jacket with careful hands, laying it over the back of a chair with the kind of precision usually reserved for ritual. He didn’t speak. Didn’t even look at you. He just stood there, hands resting on the back of the chair like if he let go, he’d unravel completely.

You sat on the edge of the bed, your fingers loosely twisted in the hem of your dress. You didn’t ask if he was okay. You already knew the answer.

“I didn’t think it would feel this bad,” he said eventually, voice frayed and distant. “I thought I’d be ready.”

You stood slowly, moving to him without hesitation. Your arms came around his middle, and you rested your forehead against his back. He didn’t move, but his breathing hitched.

“I should have been ready. She's been at the home for so long, but I just... she raised me,” he said, almost inaudibly. “She didn’t have to. But she did. Every match. Every scraped knee. Every time I called, she answered. Every time.”

Your arms tightened around him. “She loved you,” you whispered. “And you loved her.”

He turned around then, slow and unsteady, and the look in his eyes nearly knocked the breath from your lungs. Shattered didn’t cover it. Lost didn’t touch it. He was untethered.

“I keep losing people,” he said, the words tumbling out like stones. “Patrick’s gone because of me. And now her. And I know it’s not the same—I know—but it feels like this… gaping thing I made has just... swallowed her too. Like the grief’s bigger because I deserve it. Because I already broke something I swore I’d never lose. And now she’s gone, and I didn’t get to fix it.”

You reached for his face, cupping his jaw in your hands. His skin was cold.

“You’ve been here,” he said, voice breaking. “Through all of it. And I don’t even know why you stayed.”

“You don’t have to earn me,” you said softly. “You don’t have to win me.”

That broke something in him. The last dam. The last defense. He kissed you like he was drowning and you were air—desperate, aching, uncoordinated.

And you let him.

Because this was how he asked to be held.

This was how he asked to stay.

And when his mouth found your collarbone, it wasn’t about want—it was about ache. He kissed you like he was begging for forgiveness, for permission, for something softer than the weight that had followed him since the casket closed. His lips trembled against your skin, his breath hot and uneven, and when his hands rose to slide the zipper down your dress, they moved like he was afraid he’d break you just by touching.

His forehead rested against yours, breath shallow. You could feel the questions rolling off of him in waves—Is this okay? Is this too much? Will you still love me after this?

Your hand came to rest on his chest, light but steady. “Hey,” you whispered. “You don’t have to do this. You’re grieving, Art. We don’t need to…”

His eyes met yours, wide and raw. “I know,” he murmured. “I just—” He paused, voice cracking. “I need to feel like something is still mine. Something I can hold onto. If it’s not okay for you, we stop. But if you’ll let me—”

“I’m here,” you breathed. “If this is what you need, I’m here.”

It wasn’t hurried. It wasn’t even tender, not exactly. It was reverent. Grounded in need, not lust. You guided him to the bed, undressing slowly as though the silence around you might shatter if you moved too fast. He followed, watching you like he was memorizing something he thought he might lose.

Clothes fell like petals between you. He kissed every inch of skin like a benediction, like he thought if he worshipped your body hard enough, he might find salvation in it. When he finally sank into you, it wasn’t a thrust so much as a surrender. His breath hitched like a sob, and he stilled, forehead pressed to yours.

"You’re here," he whispered, like he was reminding himself.

“Yes,” you said, your hands cradling his face, your body stretching open around him. “I’m here.”

He moved slowly at first, not with confidence, but with aching devotion—like each motion might be the one to bring him back from the edge. The cadence of his hips was deliberate, fragile. He gripped you tighter each time he exhaled, as if the rhythm alone might anchor him.

You didn’t just feel him inside you—you felt him return to himself, piece by shattered piece.

It wasn’t just sex. It was survival. It was a tether.

And when he finally unraveled—face buried in your neck, hands fisting the sheets, broken sobs tangled with pleasure—you held him through every breath of it.

Because grief had made a church out of your body.

And tonight, he needed somewhere to kneel.

You held him for a while once he dozed off, and eventually, you slid from bed carefully and padded toward the bathroom. A moment later, you heard the quiet rustle of sheets and the creak of the mattress as he followed. You left the door open. Maybe you wanted him to.

He stepped into the shower behind you like it hurt to do it. His arms came around your waist, and he buried his face between your shoulder blades. Neither of you spoke.

You washed his hair gently, the short strands still unfamiliar under your fingers. He pressed his lips to your back, your neck, your shoulder, like he was memorizing the way your skin felt wet and warm. When you turned to face him, he didn’t kiss you. He just looked at you like you were the only real thing left in the world.

And then he cried again. Silent. Exhausted. Steaming water sliding down his face, indistinguishable from the tears.

You cradled his face, held him to your chest. Let the water run until it turned lukewarm, then cold. And still, neither of you moved.

There was no healing in it.

But there was closeness.

And that was enough.

He sleeps eventually—fitfully, limbs tangled in yours, lashes damp against his cheeks.

But sometime after two in the morning, you’re woken by a sharp intake of breath, the kind that comes before a scream. Art lurches upward in bed, chest heaving, eyes wild, breath catching in his throat like it’s trying to claw its way out.

“Art—” you whisper, sitting up, your hand already reaching for him.

He’s shaking. “You were gone,” he chokes out. “I—I saw you—”

You pull him into your arms instantly, gathering every trembling inch of him against your body. “It was a dream. I’m here. I’m right here.”

He buries his face into your shoulder like he can’t bear to look at you, like the sight of you might make it worse or make it real. “You were gone. You didn’t wake up. I kept calling for you and you didn’t—”

You hold his head to your chest, fingers weaving through his hair, grounding him. “It was just a dream.”

“I can’t lose you too,” he whispers, voice shattered. “Everything is falling apart. I can’t—please—I can’t lose you too.”

You don’t answer. You just wrap yourself tighter around him, hoping your touch can stitch the seams that keep breaking open.

Because grief doesn’t end when the sun sets.

But neither does love.

The days that followed blurred together. Grief didn’t make time crawl—it made it smear, like water across ink. Every morning, Art woke a little slower. Every night, he held you a little tighter. And in the daylight in between, the world seemed to press in on him from every direction.

His once-effortless posture began to sag at the shoulders. His smile—the one that used to bloom in full color and wrinkle the corners of his bright blue eyes—dimmed into something gray, something polite, something functional. Those same eyes began to look a little washed out, like color was something he couldn’t afford to carry anymore.

The curls went next.

You walked in one afternoon to find golden strands scattered across the bathroom floor, the buzz of clippers still echoing in the walls. He stood in front of the mirror, jaw set, freshly shorn hair sticking to his neck. He didn’t look at you. But he spoke. 

“I’m sorry,” he breathed out, choking out the words like they were stranglish him from the inside. “I could still feel her hands in my hair. Ruffling. I couldn’t take it.”

“You don’t have to be sorry,” you whispered. You crossed the room and placed your hands gently on his shoulders, kissed the nape of his neck, and didn’t say another word. The boy with sun in his hair had sheared it away, and you knew he didn’t want it back.

He started losing matches. Quietly.

You remembered the first time he said he loved you. Not with flowers or music, but breathless, after a win that had taken everything out of him. You’d met him at the hotel, and he’d barely shut the door before he said it, still sweating, still high on adrenaline. And then he kissed you like the words had taken something from him—like giving them to you had emptied his lungs.

You remembered the way his grandmother had smiled at you the first time you met. The way she'd squeezed your hands and called you his light. How she looked at Art like she'd known, even then, that one day he'd need someone to hold the pieces.

And now, he didn’t look like the boy who won that match.

Now, he looked like he was losing to something no one could see. Without tantrums or excuses. Just the dull thud of a missed serve, a point surrendered, a press conference avoided. Tennis, once the place he’d felt most alive, had become a battlefield he never asked to return to. He showed up. He played. He lost. And each time, he disappeared a little more.

But through it all—through every bad night, every ghosted call, every ache that didn’t come with a name… there was you.

When everything else felt like static, your presence was the only thing that cut through the noise. The only thing that made him feel real. The only place he remembered how to breathe.

Sometimes that peace came in silence, his head in your lap while your fingers wove lazily through what was left of his hair.

But more often, it came in urgency. In need.

The only time his voice didn’t tremble was when it was groaned into your skin: hot and unfiltered, his breath catching at the base of your throat as if every gasp might be his last.

The only time he didn’t feel like he was losing was when he was pressed between your thighs, his mouth working at you like prayer, his tongue hunry, woshipful, desperate. He held your hips like he was bracing himself against a world that wouldn’t stop crumbling. And when you came apart under him, hands in his hair, thighs trembling around his face, it was the only time you saw him close his eyes and look at peace.

Other nights, he needed to be inside you before he could breathe. He’d kiss you with too much teeth, too much urgency, undress you like he was afraid the moment might vanish before he got there. He fucked like a man trying to outrun his grief—fast, hard, unrelenting—and every time he came, he clung to you like he thought you might disappear too.

He praised you in the dark like a penance.

And every time he touched you, it felt less like sex and more like he was trying to carve out a space inside you where grief couldn’t follow.

He never said it aloud, but you understood.

Once, you woke up to him between your legs, soft and focused. His mouth reverent, his hands trembling like he was afraid of waking you. He didn't. He just stayed there—devoted and silent—like this was enough. Like this was the only time his breath came without hurting.

Another night, he was already inside you before either of you could speak. He didn’t move at first—just held you, forehead to yours, breath uneven. When he finally did, it was achingly slow, every thrust deliberate and deep, as if he could stitch himself back together with the rhythm. He cried into your mouth while you kissed him through it. Not loud. Not broken. Just... leaking sorrow.

This was the only place he still knew how to win.

And you let him have it. Again and again. As many times as he needed.

Because love, too, can be an altar.

And your body had always been holy.

But even that started to feel distant.

There came a day. It was not marked by any grand event, but by the absence of one—when he stopped reaching for you. Not out of disinterest, but detachment. Like he wasn’t sure he had the right to ask anymore.

You’d find him sitting on the couch for hours, unmoving, eyes glazed over as though the air in the room was thicker than he could push through. He answered questions in one-word phrases, if at all. When he smiled, it looked borrowed—like a motion learned rather than felt.

One night, after a particularly quiet dinner, he looked at you like he didn’t recognize you, and then apologized as if that alone was a sin.

“I don’t know what I believe in anymore,” he murmured, almost to himself. “I used to think things would make sense eventually. That if I kept trying, there’d be a reason for all of it. But now?”

He shook his head, eyes glinting in the dim lamp beside the couch. “Now it just feels like I’m waiting. For something else to collapse. For someone else to disappear.”

You didn’t say anything.

Because what could you say to someone already grieving your loss in advance?

You leaned in instead, resting your forehead to his temple. His breath stuttered, shaky.

“I keep thinking I’ll wake up, and you’ll be gone,” he whispered, finally. “Like everyone else. Like she was.”

You pressed your lips to his jaw. “I’m still here.”

He didn’t believe you. Not really. But he let you say it anyway.

And that, for now, had to be enough.

But before they faded, there were flickers. Brief ones.

You told him about your day, like you always did—mundane things, harmless things, soft color in a gray world. The offhand story about the rude barista, the weird music they were playing at the store, how your coworker pronounced "gyro" like it rhymed with "hero" and refused to be corrected.

You didn’t expect a response. He hadn’t offered one in weeks.

But one night, he did. He let out a quiet huff of breath that almost sounded like a laugh. "Maybe he was being a hero. Defending his truth."

You blinked, stunned. Then smiled. “A hero of lunch.”

Art nodded slowly, gaze still fixed somewhere far away, but you saw it—the smallest twitch at the corner of his mouth. The faintest return.

It wasn’t healing. Not yet. But it was something.

But flickers are fragile things. And more often then not, they fizz out before turning to flame.

The days didn’t get easier. The light didn’t grow. It stayed small, flickering, trembling in the corner like a candle fighting the wind. Some days, you’d catch him standing too still in doorways, staring through walls. Others, he wouldn’t come home until after midnight, his eyes dull and clothes damp from rain or sweat or both.

He never explained.

And slowly, those flickers began to dim again.

You still made him laugh sometimes, but it was quieter now. You still made love, but it felt different—like he was trying to remember something he’d already lost. The desperation had gone out of him. Now, it was resignation.

And then came the morning when you woke up to find him already dressed, sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at his hands.

He didn’t look at you when he said it.

"I think I’m done."

Your chest tightened. “With what?”

He was quiet for so long you thought maybe he’d changed his mind. But then:

"With trying to feel better. With pretending like I’m going to.”

You sat up slowly, heart aching. “Art…”

“I’m not leaving,” he said quickly, like he knew what you were afraid of. “I just… I think this is who I am now. And I’m sorry. I know you didn’t sign up for this version of me.”

You reached for him, but his body didn’t move to meet yours. He let you touch him. He just didn’t touch back.

And that was the moment you realized: he wasn’t coming back.

Not really.

So you stayed. Of course you did. You loved him.

But some nights, when he wouldn’t look at you—when the silence stretched like distance—you wondered what it meant to be someone’s sanctuary when they’d already stopped believing in salvation.

You wondered if staying was love.

Or just surrender.

You made coffee. You rubbed his back when he couldn’t sleep. You held him when the silence got too loud. And sometimes, when he kissed you, it still felt like a prayer. But most of the time, it felt like a memory.

You became his comfort, his anchor. But not his hope.

He stopped saying “I love you.” Not because he didn’t mean it—but because he didn’t believe he deserved to.

The last time you had sex, he initiated it slowly—hands warm but heavy, gaze distant. He held your face in his palms for what felt like minutes, thumbs sweeping your cheekbones like he was trying to remember them. He didn’t say anything, not even your name.

He was gentle. Too gentle. Each motion was slow, deliberate, and full of grief. He kissed your collarbone like it might bruise. He never looked away.

When he came, it was silent. A tear slid down his temple and into the pillow. And he didn’t stop crying, even after he pulled out. Even after you pulled him into your chest.

You held him like you always did.

And you knew—he hadn’t done it to feel better.

He’d done it to say goodbye.

And the boy who once knelt at the altar of your body began to forget the hymns altogether.

This is where he died.

Not in body.

But in spirit.

And you—soft, loyal, still hopelessly in love—you buried him gently, every day, with your hands and your hope.

-----

tagging: @artstennisracket @kimmyneutron @kharwreck @babyspiderling @queensunshinee @hanneh69 @jamespotteraliveversion @glennussy @awaywithtime @artdonaldsonbabygirl

[saetiate]

WELCOME TO CORA AND AVE'S FORTUNE TELLING BOOTH

❥ get a love reading! this valentines, cora @saetiate and ave @venustrvck are taking requests! event status: closed

send in: a character + one or more tarot cards (listed tropes) from below + sfw/nsfw preference + any other details! extra love heart! you can also send a kink from below the cut too. received requests here

you'll receive: a short drabble/fic based on your request :)

fandoms: blue lock, naruto, one piece, honkai star rail, genshin, love and deepspace

queer character hcs/reader and polyamory welcome too! please specify gender neutral/fem/masc/trans reader. no specifications will default to fem or gender neutral reader. this event is (n)sfw and dark content friendly!

example req 1: "hi! can I get a sae x f!reader, with the lovers - mutual pining? please and thank you!!" example req 2: "can i have oliver aiku x gender neutral reader with strength: arguments and add petplay please?"

PICK A TAROT CARD BELOW

❥ the fool: innocence, playfulness, recklessness; blind date, games, pick up lines, childhood friends to lovers

❥ the magician: transformation, beginnings, good omen; first meeting, meet/cute, meet/ugly, artist and model

❥ the high priestess: magic, dreams, knowledge; dream sharing, fortune telling, magic au

❥ the empress: passion, nurturing, fertility; motherhood, pregnancy, children with your f/os

❥ the emperor: authority, discipline, stubbornness; royalty au, power play, enemies to lovers

❥ the hierophant: community, learning, rituals; domestic life, university au, family traditions, religious observances (e.g. christmas, pouring sake for ancestors, tying the mangalasutra)

❥ the lovers: love, harmony, mutual attraction; soulmate au, confessions, mutual pining, first kiss

❥ the chariot: travel, action, ambition airport meeting, work-related au, summer/vacation fling, ceo au

❥ strength: courage, overcoming obstacles, urges; arguments, forced proximity, conflict resolution, proposal

❥ the hermit: solitude, withdrawal, introspection; hurt/comfort, unrequited pining, awkward flirting

❥ wheel of fortune: optimism, success, luck; chance/fated meeting, koi no yokan (knowing you will fall in love with someone), matchmaking

❥ justice: karma, honesty, decisions; returning a favor, relationship talk (e.g. talking about moving in together), mistaken identity

❥ the hanged man: suspension, potential, indecision; trust issues, infidelity, caught between two f /os, asked out as a bet/dare

❥ death: destruction, change, new beginnings; lost love, break up to make up, exes, grief and mourning

❥ temperance: communication, healing, moderation; comfort, wound-tending, drunken confessions

❥ the devil: desire, lust, temptation,; incest, any smut (see list of kinks below), omegaverse, supernatural elements

❥ the tower: drama, catastrophe, pride; hate sex, best friend's sibling, miscommuniation, yandere

❥ the star: renewal, hope, rest; easy love, at peace, coming home, first love

❥ the moon: emotion, fantasy, confusion; friends with benefits, late night/pillow talk, fantasy au, defining the relationship

❥ the sun: joy, friendship, prosperity; friends to lovers, fluff, love realization, praise kink

❥ judgement: awakening, resurrection, absolution; fake relationship, second chances, arranged marriage

❥ the world: fulfillment, experience, completion; marriage, growing old, aftercare

if you'd like, you can add or request a kink from this list: oral f!receiving, orgasm denial, body worship. 69, vanilla and sweet, omegaverse, size kink, lingerie, aphrodisiac, threesome, dirty talk, cockwarming, yandere, overstimulation, aftercare, face sitting, fingering, praise kink

get your love reading now! inbox either ave or cora with your req!

extra info

you can add dealer's choice at any point and we'll decide for you <3

you can send any req to either of us! blue lock can go to either of us, and by default it would be better to send one piece asks to ave and genshin+hsr+lads asks to cora, but we'll both receive them either way and make sure to get yours written :)

if you've already sent a req to either of us before, feel free to send it through again under this event

all drabbles will be a written collaboration by us <3 don't worry, we're very good friends and have been for years! cora specializes in dialogue and ave specializes in beautiful imagery and emotion-charged scenes, so it should be the best of all worlds

we reserve the right to deny any req we're not comfy w, we don't think this will happen but just in case!!

[effetsecndaires]

— 𝐭𝐨𝐤𝐲𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡. (𝐡𝐜𝐬)

INCLUDES | takashi mitsuya, manjiro sano (bonten tl), chifuyu matsuno, shuji hanma, tetta kisaki, haruchiyo sanzu.

CONTENT WARNING | sanzu's contains nsfw, mention of eating disorders. fem!reader.

NOTE | all characters are in their 20s, english isn't my first language! (divider by cafekitsune)

— MITSUYA.

Mitsuya has a hard time getting over your death. He's constantly haunted by the feeling that he somehow failed to protect you, even though your death had nothing to do with him and everyone around him always insists on the fact that there's nothing he could have done to prevent it.

His grief gets so bad that taking care of himself becomes the last thing on his mind. He neglects his appearance and barely eats anymore, he simply can't find the motivation to carry on with his life as if nothing happened. The only thing he looks forward to every day is going back to sleep.

His dreams have become a sanctuary, a safe place where death doesn't exist and the two of you can finally reunite.

— MIKEY.

Mikey keeps a stoic expression the entire time he's being told the news. He's biting his tongue, trying not to let his emotions show.

He feels his heart break into a thousand pieces as fear, anger, and grief all overtake him at once. He wants to scream, to lash out, to hit something. But he doesn't say a single word. He closes his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath to calm himself down.

He then nods curtly before exiting the room and heading to a quiet place where he can gather his thoughts. The world around him feels distant, everything turning into white noise as he struggles to come to terms with what he's just been told.

Mikey hadn't been in touch with you for nearly a decade and he's unsure if he's even supposed to mourn you as intensely as he does, not knowing if you still remembered or even cared about him after all those years.

All he knows is that he did still care about you, and your death feels like a cruel joke life played on him, a punishment that cuts him to the core for all the crimes he's committed.

— CHIFUYU.

Chifuyu completely isolates himself from the world. The moment he hears about your death, he breaks down and cries inconsolably for a solid hour, completely shattered by the loss of yet another friend.

He blames himself for not having done enough to save you, and your death brings back the same overwhelming emotions he experienced when he lost Baji.

With a heavy heart, he visits your grave every day and places a single flower on top of your gravestone, silently expressing his love and respect for you. He takes a moment to collect himself then heads to Baji's resting place where he repeats the same ritual and prays that the pain of losing his best friends will eventually get better.

— HANMA.

Hanma acts like he doesn't care. He'll put on a tough façade, tell everyone he never even cared about you and laugh in their faces when they try to offer condolences. He goes so far as to get defensive when anyone dares to suggest that he had any emotional attachment to you.

You were nothing but a careless brat who threw herself head first into the lion's den despite having been warned of the risks beforehand. Why would he feel any sort of empathy? Why would he care?

But this façade crumbles down as soon as he's alone in the funeral home, staring down at your open casket.

He slowly takes a step closer, looking at your lifeless body, the memory of you lying on the ground, blood pouring out of your wounds flashing through his mind.

He reaches out a shaky hand to cup your face but retracts it right away when he feels the coldness of your skin, a single tear escaping from his eye.

He doesn't let it show, but he spends the rest of his life missing you.

— KISAKI.

Kisaki doesn't react. At least, not from the outside. He keeps his head down and continues flipping through his papers, as if the words he just heard held little to no importance to him.

He might even hum dismissively and wave off whoever brought him the news, not bothering to say anything else.

But anyone who knows him knows that Kisaki is seething with anger beneath the surface.

He doesn't allow himself to dwell on it for too long, though; instead, he channels all those hidden emotions into plotting the perfect revenge. He meticulously devises a plan to make everyone involved with your murder pay, calculating each step to ensure maximum damage.

Regardless of how long it takes, whether it be months or even years, Kisaki will make sure that your death doesn't go unpunished.

— SANZU.

Sanzu tries to forget by sleeping with other women. He wants to move on, and he wants to do it fast.

But he'll be damned if forgetting you was an easy task.

He might try to convince himself that it's not intentional, but he often finds himself gravitating towards women who resemble you in some way. Whether it's the color of their skin or similarities in hair color or style, he can't deny that he still longs for you and looks for you in every woman he picks.

He'll take them from behind and pretend they're you, the palm of his hand softly sliding up their back as if you were suddenly the one moaning for more underneath him. He'll probably moan out your name at some point, not giving a damn about getting a negative reaction from the nameless girl he's using.