#the afterlife fic

[nabtime]

Better Watch Out

Danny had just started to feel like he was settling in with the Waynes. It had been... not ideal circumstances that brought him to the family in the first place, so getting used to not having to deal with all that mess was the first hurdle. The second being getting used to dealing with an entirely new- if more pleasant, mess. The Waynes, and Gotham by extension, were- to put it lightly- fucking crazy. He wasn't in Amity anymore and however much he'd thought it was the weirdest place on the planet before- he was absolutely rethinking that now. Where he had been one hero against a handful of villains, Gotham had a whole brigade of vigilantes against an army of villains. And they were... Bat-themed. For the most part. He'd yet to meet any of them, so he hadn't gotten the chance to ask what all that was about.

None of that was the point though. The point was that Danny had only recently stopped feeling like a fish out of water around his new foster family, and now the Holidays were coming. The Holidays that always served to put him in a sour mood. The Holidays that made him more prone to lash out and snap at those that didn't deserve it. The Holidays that, despite being Jewish by heritage, Bruce seemed oddly enthusiastic about celebrating.

(It reminded him, painfully, of Sam. He'd yet to be able to see here since everything went down and he missed her and Tucker something fierce. Which was maybe also putting him in a bad mood.)

So you really couldn't blame him for feeling a little tense about the whole situation. Not only were the Christmas decorations that smothered the Manor making him grouchy, but his grouchiness was also making a guilty pit form in his stomach. He was a moody teenager and adding trauma on top of that didn't help how caustic he could be- and adding fear on top of that made it all the worse. What if he saw Dick in his Santa hat, grinning and innocent, and he snapped? What if he saw Damian, stoic but loving, give Titus a shiny red bow-tie collar for the season and he made a caustic comment that went too far? What if he saw Bruce so much as smile at him while standing near the giant tree in the foyer and he saw green?

What if he ruined Christmas? Again? For people that didn't deserve it? Again? What if he hurt the people he cared about that had only ever shown him care and consideration? Again?

So Danny was just a bit tense. A bit on edge. And he was trying. Oh Ancients was he trying. To not be such a little bitch about all the Christmas stuff. But he had a limit. Bruce, being the rich socialite that seemed far too enthusiastic about family-centered holidays, did not have a limit. Every inch of the manor was covered in tinsel and holly and blinking lights and fake snow. Every spare moment was filled with different siblings being coerced into doing cheesy holiday activities, with Danny being the only one to attend every single one of them. (Cutting down a Christmas tree with Jason. Buying presents at the mall with Tim. Decorating while hanging from the chandelier with Dick. Caroling very badly with Stephanie. Making snow angels with Cass. Watching Christmas movies with Duke.) And he attended them all with a barely restrained snarl and a badly bitten tongue. The one time, one time, he'd told Bruce no- the guilt had eaten him alive (and dead) at seeing the man melt into the most pathetic kicked-puppy look he'd ever seen.

No grown man should ever be able to do that with his face. Danny never wanted to see that again.

In return, though, he had to face the Horrors.

The latest Horror being the worst he'd ever faced to date. A Horror that he thought he'd never have to face. He thought he'd slipped past this particular one by aging out. He was too old for this. He shouldn't be there. Damian, scowling and eyes filled with murderous intent, shouldn't be there. Dick and Bruce seemed to both be having the time of their lives. It was far too disturbing- and the continuous blasting of Christmas music and the overheated crush of a restless crowd only made it worse.

They were in line to see Santa at the mall.

It made his skin crawl. He was fifteen! Damian, the poor bastard, was also fifteen!

He could practically feel Ghostwriter laughing his ass off at his predicament. This was worse than getting stuck in a rhyming Christmas cautionary tale. He would 100% rather be stuck in one of Ghostwriter's cheesy poems than be stuck in the stupidly long line to see the fake mall Santa that probably didn't want to be there just as much as Danny.

But Bruce looked so fucking happy. Genuinely happy.

It was something he'd noticed early on about his foster dad. He smiled a lot and smiled big, but he rarely ever meant it. Now, Danny wasn't usually one to notice things like that. He got pretty wrapped up in his own problems and just- didn't have the skill to notice these things. Usually. But, well, being ghostly gave him a bit of an advantage. He could get a pretty good read on a person's emotions, regardless of what expression they wore. If he felt close enough to them. Frostbite had compared it to, like, family pack bonding. And he really, really didn't want to think about that further (why had it never worked for his parents? why did he feel so close to Bruce so quickly? why?) But, more importantly, he could tell that while Bruce smiled a lot, he rarely meant it.

But whenever Danny or his foster sibling begrudgingly participated in "family holiday activities" he smiled and he meant it. Bruce, fundamentally, was a sad man. Always grieving something. But here and now? In line to see his teenage children visit fucking Santa in the mall? He was smiling from ear to ear and his emotions, for once, matched. Yeah, there was a hint of mischief there, but it was overwhelmed by the giddy joy and excitement.

A suspicious amount of excitement... Like he was expecting something.

And then Bruce was leaning down between him and Damian and with a bright grin, he muttered, "I have a surprise for the both of you."

And even Dick, who had not stopped taking a stupid amount of pictures the entire time, paused to look at Bruce curiously.

"As I've told you both before," he said, looking over at Dick and back to Damian, "I know the real Santa. Met him a few times, saved Christmas with him a few others, and he owed me a favor for the last misadventure we had. So, I asked him to be here, for this one afternoon, for you guys."

Danny barely caught a glimpse of Dick rolling his eyes in the background. Oh, okay, so this was bullshit that has long been established. Nothing new on his account. That was something at least.

"Father," Damian interrupted with scorn and a promise of violence in his voice, "you are aware that this- Santa Claus creature- is fictitious, are you not?"

"Damian, chum," Bruce responded carefully, sincerely saddened, "why would you say that about an old family friend?"

And, poor Damian, looked two parts baffled and three parts murderous. Nonplussed and unable to even fathom a response to his father. He just stared the man down.

Dick huffed in exasperation behind them. "C'mon, B. Will you let that go already?"

Bruce furrowed his brows, eyes already taking on that faint sheen of kicked-puppiness, and looked back up at his eldest. "You don't believe me, Dickie? After all these years?"

Dick responded with a flat stare. Danny kind of wished he had popcorn for this moment. It was like witnessing a mild car crash. Nobody got hurt and it was still wicked to see parts flying everywhere. There was even a chance of things catching fire. Man was he glad he could just watch.

"Danny?" Bruce pleaded, turning to him with those sad, sad eyes. "Do you believe me, chum?"

And fuck how was he supposed to respond to that?

"I have it on good authority," he said, thinking of yearly fight, after fight, after fight, "that his existence is very hotly debated in the scientific community."

He could feel the questioning stares from Damian and Dick but he refused to look away from the innocently tilted head of his unfortunate foster father.

"Is that a yes?" and he sounded so sincerely hopeful. He couldn't crush the man's spirit. He couldn't.

But he also refused to lie and say he believed in Santa. At fifteen.

He clenched his jaw and gritted his teeth, but eventually replied. "It's a hotly debated topic."

And Bruce just smiled that empty smile and patted his shoulder. "Thanks, chum."

He, again, ignored Damian and Dick's stares. If he looked at them, he'd break. If he so much as made partial eye-contact, he was gonna fucking lose it.

"Oh look! We're almost at the front!"

Danny was living his worst life. Officially. This was the bad time-line. Dan's future didn't even come close. He was going to go mega evil any second now and kill everyone in the vicinity and then himself. This wasn't happening and it wasn't real and Santa Claus can't hurt him because he isn't real.

But Bruce, the saddest man in history, utterly and sincerely believed that he was.

So Danny was going to sit on some random old dude's lap and pretend to care about what he wanted for Christmas and whether or not he'd been a good boy this year and he was going to force a smile the entire time and his soul might shrivel up and die all the way inside, but at least Bruce would be happy.

What the fuck kind of afterlife was he living.

And then it was their turn and Danny was forced to go up first because the alternative was Damian committing homicide in the middle of the mall while Dick and Bruce cheerily took pictures.

Okay. Just sit down. Spit out answers to any inane questions. Pose for picture. And leave. Simple and easy and completely unbearable. But- for Bruce- he would bear it.

But, damn it all, a chill went down his spine as he approached.

No. Absolutely not.

There was no way. But he examined the man sitting in the chair and the more he saw the more the sinking pit in his stomach grew. Full thick beard of snow white hair. Brown eyes filled with smug mischief and magnanimity. Thick red velvet jacket made for trapping in heat in extreme cold weather, lined with white fur that looked suspiciously close to trim on cloaks he'd seen in the Far Frozen. A not-quite-ghostly-not-quite-magic-but-something-in-between aura he often got around Gods and Ancients.

Fuck, but Bruce actually knew the real bonafide Santa Fucking Claus.

What, and he means this with a great amount of emotion, the fuck.

He sat down in a stupor and the man just placidly smiled at him, a twinkle in his eye letting him know that he knew Danny was currently experiencing new stages of grief not yet known to man and was just gonna let him ride it out. How nice of him. Because of course he was being nice. He was Santa.

Fuck.

He looked up at the man. Ghost. God. Whatever. And for a good moment that's all either of them did. Just. Stared.

Sorry, Santa, Danny's brain has suddenly gone on vacation. 404 not found. Please leave a message after the tone. Error. Sorry, there's nothing there. Please try again.

After a few agonizing moments he asked, "how? Do you know Bruce?"

And Santa laughed at him, the sound working its way into his bones and filling him with a warmth he hadn't felt in a long time. It tasted just a bit like egg nog. Gross.

"Well," the man started, voice deep and rich like a good cup of hot chocolate, (whatthefuckwhathtefuck). "Why wouldn't I know a man like Bruce? Honorable, righteous, and very skilled. One of the best the Justice League has, if I'm being honest."

And then Danny's brain stopped completely. Because there was no fucking way Santa (FUCK) was implying what he thought he was implying.

But it all made so much sense now. His ears were ringing suddenly and the world was greying out but he was Seeing the Light.

"-nny?" Santa (FUCK!!) was saying. "Are you alright? Want to tell me what you want for Christmas now?"

"Hm," he said airily, still not all the way there, "I'm good, thanks."

And then he slid off the man's lap and walked back to his foster family in a daze. And he looked at Bruce (BATMAN!! FUCK!!!) and he slid a slow hand down his face, attempting to take the skin off it in the process.

"You alright, Danny man?" Dick asked, only half paying attention while he gleefully snapped pictures of a sullen Damian barely restraining himself from committing violence while stubbornly standing next to Santa instead of sitting on his lap.

"That's the real Santa, Bruce is Batman, and I'm half-dead," he replied bluntly.

Dick fumbled his phone in response and Bruce merely raised his eyebrows.

"That's an odd start to a 'three guys walk into a bar' joke there, chum," he said amiably. And Danny wouldn't have noticed the tension in his voice if he weren't ghostly. But he was and unfortunately for them all, it was now everyone's problem.

"Not a joke," he said. "I'll explain the dead part later but Santa outed you on accident."

"Okay, no," Dick interrupted, "we are not leaving the dead part for later, Danny, what the fuck."

"Listen," he said flatly, slapping his hands on either side of Dick's face and smooshing it to convey his seriousness while he spoke. "Santa is real, he's a God, and he's sitting right there." He emphasized with a sweeping wave of his arm in the direction Damian was stomping back towards them from. "We're leaving the dead part for later."

"What is all this about? Dead part? What is going on?" Damian demanded in rapid succession, growing more aggressive and persistent with each question.

Danny, already on his last fucking nerve, was gonna lose it. For real.

"Apparently," Dick drawled, disbelief and an unfair amount of derision in his tone, "that's the real Santa, he told Danny B was Batman, and Danny's now saying he's dead."

"What-"

Damian did not get to finish his sentence because that was the exact moment Danny finally snapped. Every bit of pent up tension and hostility, every bit of restrained Holiday fueled fury he'd been bottling up. Unleashed all at once because Dick decided to be an asshole about not believing him.

Danny snatched one of the giant plastic candy canes that lined the aisle of the queue to see Mall (but actually Real) Santa and gave a good swing in Dick's direction. Dick who had unfairly good reflexes and was able to dodge by jumping over the swing and landing back neatly on his feat.

"Danny?!" he cried, incredulous.

But Danny was no longer listening. Only reveling in the wild swinging of the candy cane and attempting to land a hit on Dick for being an absolute dick and finally unleashing hell upon the world and specifically his asshole foster brother. And maybe he put a little bit more ghostly strength in his last swing than he meant to, because when he finally made contact- he heard a pained off as Dick went down hard.

"Danny, please," he wheezed from the soft bank of fake snow he'd fallen into, "it's Christmas."

He screeched and continued his assault. "It's December 10th!"

And then, promptly; Bruce wrangled the candy cane from Danny's grasp, Damian pulled Dick from the floor, and they were all calmly escorted from the mall and asked politely to never return.

Danny really, truly, hated Christmas. And it looked like that wasn't going to change any time soon.

[erm-you-see]

(Drawing Danny phantom as a creature bc I can and everything looks better creature-ified.)

Now presenting you with:

The After-Afterlife AU!

To preface this post, I’m currently about to rewatch Danny phantom for the first time since I was a kid. I am reading fics too, therefore please forgive me for not being too detailed with this au post!

This version of Danny comes from an alternate dimension, one where he is forced to reveal his identity to his parents earlier then he did in the show and it doesn’t go to plan. It may have been a misunderstanding, pure denial or outright rejection, Regardless, faced with the weight of his ruined relationship Danny moves into the ghost zone for a time in order to sort out what to do.

Meanwhile, in another alternate reality, Jack and Maddie are about to finish up the portal. In this particular reality, the portal acts weirdly compared to the ones in other dimensions. Maddie and Jack accidentally trip one another in the excitement of watching the portal finally open. When they touch it their DNA is un-intentionally used as a direct link with the closest biological entity to them, and he just so happens to exist in another dimension.

On his unwilling transport across dimensions Danny bumps his head on debris. when he finally turns up in his new dimension, he can’t remember a thing.

Jack and Maddie are immediately threatened by him, Raising their weapons. Danny flees but stays hidden in the walls of the house as he feels it is still somewhat familiar even with his loss of memory.

Danny now haunts his parents, as well as jazz as he tries to remember who he was. It doesn’t help that Danny Fenton was never born in this new universe.

A story in which Danny gets gradually adopted into his own family.

[a-most-beloved-fool]

Spock knew he was dying. It was, he supposed, quite inevitable. In truth, he was surprised that death had not claimed him much sooner; there had been many instances throughout his life and career when it had seemed inescapable.

Now, however, it would be time that would claim him.

All told, it was a significant improvement upon his last death, trapped within the Enterprise's warp core. Though his bones ached with age, his flesh did not burn with radiation, and his vision remained quite clear. He hurt, yes, and was cold, but he was not in agony.

However...

The last time he had died, pressed up against the glass, he had not had to face it alone. Jim had been with him, as had Doctor McCoy and Mr. Scott. He had been unable to touch them - and indeed he had wanted to, had wished quite illogically for the glass to fall away and allow him to tumble into Jim's arms - but they had still been there, at his side.

He was a Vulcan, and so perhaps it should have been inconsequential, but he was old now, and sentimental.

He could not help but want.

And then, as though a breath had passed through the room, Spock sensed a change.

Suddenly, without any fanfare at all, Jim stood at his side, smiling warmly down at him. He looked just as young as he did when Spock had seen him last, before he had been swept away by the Nexus and held away from him for so many long decades. He was, thought Spock, so beautiful.

If this was an illusion, it was a welcome one.

When Jim's hands clasped his own, they felt real, somehow, soft and warm against his chilled flesh, and Spock gripped back with all the strength he could muster. Illusion though it may be, Spock would savor it.

Jim, he wanted to say, how I have missed you, but his voice was well beyond him. To even try would be an exercise in futility. Kaiidth. Perhaps it was for the best. It would not do to frighten his doctors by speaking to a hallucination.

Still, he allowed himself to look, drinking in Jim's appearance like a man parched. It had been so very long since they had been together, and Spock could find no shame in taking advantage of his situation. He was dying, and if an illusion was the only way he could have the company of his husband, he would accept it without question. It felt like Jim, and it looked like Jim, and that was enough for him.

To his other side, a light began to bloom. Sunrise. He had not expected to make it to this sunrise. Memories, long cherished, of watching alien sunrises with Jim bubbled up in his mind, and a sigh fell from his lips.

Oh, how he had missed him! And now, at his very last sunrise, Jim was back with him, hands holding his.

Yes, this was by far an improvement on his previous death.

With some effort, he turned his head towards the sun. Jim, too, turned to face it, and together they watched, as they had so very many times before. It was peaceful. Wonderful.

He did not know how long he lay there, gazing at the rising sun, Jim's hand still in his, before the change became apparent to him: breath no longer stirred in his chest, and his heart no longer beat in his side. Gone, too, was the ache of time that had so suffused him these last years.

And yet, the sun still shone before him, and Jim's hands were still warm against his own.

He blinked, wondering.

"Jim," he whispered, and the name fell with shocking ease from his lips. Cautiously, he pulled himself to a sitting position, and his form moved more smoothly than it had in many years as he turned to meet Jim's eyes once more. "Jim."

"Hello, Mister," Jim replied.

Jim beamed at him, that beloved face warm with affection. The barest hint of sadness lingered at the edges of his eyes, and Spock's hand raised almost of its own accord, brushing lightly over his cheek.

"You grieve," he murmured. "Why?"

Jim just smiled, leaning into Spock's touch. "Illogical, I know," he said, a light puff of laughter escaping his chest. "I only - well. It isn't pleasant to watch you die, peaceful though it was. And, while I'm terribly pleased to see you again, I can't help but feel sorry. Death is - quite permanent, most of the time. I'm afraid no strange Vulcan rituals will be bringing you back, this time around."

Spock understood. Gently, he threaded his fingers into Jim's hair. "I confess that I am relieved by that," he admitted, cherishing the feeling of Jim beneath his touch. "I would not wish to be taken from you once again, so soon after arriving."

Something honey-warm softened in Jim at that, his eyes alight with a deep fondness.

"You sweet talker, you," he said, squeezing gently at the hand still within his grasp. Then, something almost tentative crept into his face. "Spock," he started, eyeing him cautiously, "I know it's been... quite some time, for you. But - to say it bluntly, I still love you. If you've moved on, I'll never mention it again, but-"

Illogical, Spock thought, silencing Jim's words quite suddenly with his lips. Jim melted against him easily, and for a long moment they did nothing but kiss, breathing into one another as they traded touches. When Spock finally pulled away, Jim looked almost kiss-drunk, lips swollen and eyes besotted.

"I suppose that's my answer, then," Jim chuckled, squeezing Spock's hands again.

"Indeed," Spock replied, allowing his eyes to crinkle with some of the delight which pumped through his veins. Gently, he rubbed his nose against Jim's, then pulled back again.

"I'm glad." Jim looked at Spock for a moment, and then glanced down at the bed he still sat upon. "I'll admit, I expected you to have more questions."

"I have surmised that I am dead, and that you are here," Spock said. "Anything further seemed unimportant, for time time being."

Another huff of laughter escaped Jim. "Imminently logical, Mister Spock," he teased. Spock merely inclined his head in response.

Jim stood, and pulled Spock with him, rising from the bed. Disconcertingly, he could see his own body laid out beneath him, eyes closed in death, but then Jim leaned in to press a brief kiss to his cheek, and it was forgotten.

"Well, suffice to say, it seems there's some kind of afterlife. It might be a part of the Nexus, believe it or not." Gently, he tugged Spock along as he started walking, linking their arms together "I'm not the only one who's been waiting for you, I'll have you know," he said, an almost impish smile playing at his lips. "You'll have quite the greeting party, I'm sure. I think Bones has been saving up gripes just for you."

A smile found its way to Spock's face, and he did not try to stop it. He had Jim in his arms once again, and soon he would see their friends. But, before they could continue, Spock pulled lightly at Jim's arm, stopping him.

"Jim?" he said. "I am glad you were with me."

For a moment, Jim looked at him, clearly surprised. Then, an expression which shone like the sun spread across his face. He stepped forwards, enclosing Spock in a hug. Spock went willingly, tucking his face into the crook of Jim's neck.

"I am, too."

[kissmypoets-hp]

Fanfic Classics Series ⏳🪐🌌 This batch of fanfiction deals with the multiverse!!! Time travel!!! Imminent thoughts about life and death!! Past lives and dreams of a future together — get ready to witness a love for the ages.

the earth from a distance by spqr

A Beginner’s Guide to the Afterlife by mcsyndrome

Us, infinite (unfortunately) by @thecouchsofa

"An Emerald In The Sky" by @corvuscrowned

In Every Universe by @skeptiquewrites

Our Little Life by @tackytigerfic

Dwelling by aideomai

there will be time, there will be time by @amywaterwings

Harry Potter and the Future He Doesn't Really Want, Thanks. by orphan_account

Everything is Relative to You by @thehoneybeet

The Star Splitter by @oflights

art credits + some cover commentary under the cut :)

I had a lot of fun finding/using artworks with circles, lines, and shapes to symbolize different worlds/universes and/or the passage of time...

Artworks used, in order:

"Several Circles" by Wassily Kandinsky (1926)

"To all appearances, it was a hand of flesh and blood just like my own" by Odilon Redon (1896) — A ghostly hand that fits the plot. The artwork's title goes with the fic so well too...

"(#2) (from series, Quantum)" by Garo Antreasian (1966)

"The story of the sun, moon, and stars (1898)" by Agnes Giberne — inspired by the summary "Somewhere along the way, Draco realizes he's been thinking in lines, when he should have been thinking in circles." The original artwork comes with a caption 'Stars whose distances are well-known'... I really feel that it fits since Draco was named after a constellation... Also, the star-circles have numbers on them, which could be interpreted as H/D through different ages...

Max Brückner’s Collection of Polyhedral Models (1900) — Exploring different parallel universe versions of yourself... the more things change, the more they stay the same.

"Construction (SM lg71)" by László Moholy-Nagy (1924) — some mild spoilers for the fic! inspired by the phrases "...plot a path through the many universes such that he would never die." / "flickering through timelines? Just getting glimpses, really" .

"Fish Magic" by Paul Klee (1925)

"The Terrace at Saint-Germain, Spring" by Alfred Sisley (1875)

"Arrival of the Normandy Train, Gare Saint-Lazare" by Claude Monet (1877)

"Charing Cross Bridge: Fog on the Thames" by Claude Monet (1903) — referenced in the fic. i try to pay attention!

"Boy with Kite" by Candido Portinari (1947) — Harry is a precious little lamb. more elaboration here

i’ve been making penguin classics-style covers for fics i have saved on my kindle, as inspired by zeziliazink and bubu0h’s works!

[adventures-in-mangaland]

Another Dead Boy Detectives Fic Rec List

Netflix sucks and I'm sad, but the Dead Boy Detectives fandom continues to be awesome, so here are some more very quick fic recs!*

Tonight's the Night You Fight Your Best Mate's Dad by Opossum_Subatomic

Everyone's Alive College/University 5+1 things fic featuring Charles bringing Edwin coffee and slowburn payneland. Also Family/Wedding Drama involving Everyone Thinks They're Dating so acute is verges on Fake Dating. This author is seriously fantastic, everything they write is gold.

You should also check out Kissing Lessons, which is a high school AU that does what it says on the tin while also giving non-binary Monty and polyamory.

Ornithology by Rosie447

Monty gets a job working at Tragic Mick's. This one's not actually payneland, being gen and Monty-centric. I know, gasp. It's a fantastic and very sweet exploration of Monty discovering his sense of self post canon and works as a great metaphor for recovery from toxic family/relationships. Also, the ex-animal solidarity and bonding with Mick is lovely.

what some circumstance stole by Chrome

The Sandman crossover featuring Edwin and Hob being kidnapped and tortured together. Their friendship is really wholesome with eventual Father Figure and Found Family Feels for the whole agency and background Dreamling.

dandelion wine (life and death in summertime) by world_wanderer

Payneland Right Person Wrong Time AU in which neither of them die but they still meet and become friends. The May/December friendship is sweet but tragic, with a bittersweet ending. Superb.

Mirror Image by Anonymous

Charles' afterlife gets taken over my an evil shape-shifting doppelganger, leaving him with plenty of time to regret never talking to Edwin about his feelings. Angsty but with Feelings Realisation and the Power of Love and Friendship vibes.

my healing needed more than time by babyseraphim

Case fic with de-aged Charles! Baby Charles is precious but be prepared for discussions of childhood trauma/abuse.

The same author has also written I'm So Aces at Babysitting, which is a really cute two-chaptered AU featuring Charles and Edwin babysitting the kid versions of each other, with bonus Crystal and Niko doing the same. It's very wholesome and the author writes little kids really well.

Pouring into me by tragedy_machine

Love me some "Charles wants to date Edwin to figure out his feelings but gets turned down" fic. Feelings are hard, OK?

thank u, next by KiaraSayre

Edwin fucks and Charles seethes. It's very funny and also features some interesting worldbuilding with the Fae.

Like We've Never Known Hurt by dearheartdont

Just cute established relationship PWP and praise kink. So good.

all of these hollows by handwrittenhello

The boys are alive again but sans memories. Can they still find each other and prove their devotion to the Night Nurse?? While also evading heavenly and hellish forces trying to keep them apart??? Very interesting concept executed well.

Suo Gân by emryses

The agency takes on the case of a traumatised Edwardian ghost searching for her missing baby... Read it for Edwin family feels.

Where Primroses Bloom by PantryJesus

Reading aloud as a love language and Watership Down feels. Idk, I'm now convinced that Edwin is kind of rabbit-coded with the whole "if they catch you they'll kill you. But first they must catch you" thing. A lovely well written fic.

I'm so sick of online love by Hse11z5

College/University AU where the boys meet through a dating app. It's cute.

you can have the best of me, baby (and I will give you anything) by aletterinthenameofsanity

Again, it's the Friends with Benefits but with real feelings and mutual pining for me. Now has a Charles PoV companion fic.

True Love's Kiss by Asidian

In which Charles curses himself with a Sleeping Beauty enchantment in order to confirm his feelings for Edwin and Crystal is the real MVP. I love this one because the boys are both SO stupid but in very different in-character ways.

I also recommend Promised, in which they kind of play the Green card angle to keep Edwin out of Hell? Which honestly needs to be more of a trope. And Tight Quarters, starring the boys trapped in a magic circle, leading to Forced Proximity induced Feelings Realization (in more ways than one! 😉).

Something I Can Turn To by DontOffendTheBees

I love some domestic fluff, in this case as an Everyone's Alive/Childhood Friends AU in which the boys are poor but happy living together. I liked how they both survive their respective traumas, but Reality Ensues.

I also recommend Lived My Whole Life Before the First Light for a lovely but melancholy Soulmate AU that goes for the "seeing colours" trope for extra wistful angst.

Dining at the Ritz by TerresDeBrume

Meeting the Parents fic in which Edwin's parents are awful and Charles is Not Having It. This has Everyone Thinks They're Dating and autistic Edwin stimming representation, plus discussions of racism, classism and ableism. The fic is also part of a great Modern AU series in which the boys attended St Hilarion's at the same time and Charles saved Edwin from a non-supernatural but still almost deadly prank. Highly recommended!

The Case of the Couples Retreat by juliasfanart

Listen, I can't get enough of undercover fake dating/relationships at a couples retreat, OK? Some minor angst but overall very cute and fluffy.

acu (aysar cinematic universe) by ObsessedWithFandom

The agency is hired to solve the mystery of Charles' death and bring his killers to justice. I'm genuinely obsessed with this series; I love its OCs and Charles having an exboyfriend gives Edwin a fun crisis. Plus haunting Charles' killers is very satisfying and cathartic. Just imagine they're Netflix execs, y'all.

*Not actually quick, as it turns out. 😅

I love doing these lists because I always think I've only got a few recs and then I look back over my recent bookmarks and I've got a metric ton of great fics to rec. You guys are so talented. ❤️

[the-mcyt-crackships-brackets]

* Folly (Content SMP)&Saint Pearl (Afterlife SMP)&Death Goddess Kristin(DSMP)&Stratos Joel(ESMP S2)&Ocean Goddess Lizzie(ESMP S1)&LifestealOwner (Lifesteal)&Jschlatt (The SCU)&Watcher Grian (Life Series)&Sun God Bdubs (Hermitcraft)

[mirensiart]

The first ever "links meet" au I ever stumbled upon was the sweetest fic ever that I'm so sad I lost and haven't found again yet cause for the longest time that au was just 100% canon in my head lol and I still like it so much I want to find it again :( I remember it being actively updated back in 2014 when I was active in the zelda fandom (before my 10 year hiatus and me joining back again this year lol)

But basically the au played with the idea that hylia has like a special place in the afterlife for the hero's spirit, as compensation for their service to her and the 3 golden goddesses, so when a link dies the little afterlife space starts getting buildings or landmarks the link loved during life

So the au starts with ss!link chilling there alone, but he's able to see what his successors do from the afterlife! Then mc!link joins him when he dies and basically the little space starts getting bigger and bigger the more links die and join the little afterlife space

The only link who never joins because he is like THE hero's spirit is the first hero, and if I remember correctly ss!link tries the entire fic to meet him despite knowing it won't happen :(

Since it was during 2014 I remember the last link joining everyone was albw!link and I thought it was THE cutest cause the other links nicknamed him ALBY and like isn't that the cutest nickname ever

ANYWAY, i may have gotten some things wrong cause like...IT'S BEEN 1O YEARS LMAO but if anyone remembers it or if the author reads this, just know that I haven't stopped thinking about that au and that I love it with all my heart and I would love anyone forever if they find it again for me 🥺💖

[riant-draws]

go read Leaving Only Rust Behind by @clubsheartsspades if you haven't, and if you have, do it again XD

this fic is so, so good. not only is the writing awesome (lots of fun details if you look close), but the characterization is delightful, both heartfelt and heart-wrenching. my favorite, FAVORITE scene is, well, near the end of chapter 19 GAAAAHHH /pos

ALSO! GO GO READ THE SEQUEL! (From Rust We Rise) I've only just started it myself but mmmmmmm does not disappoint

(haha not me drawing a scene from the one chapter pebbs isn't a slugpup... seriously tho I can't draw scugs (or animals) to save my life. send help)

[strwberryblast]

𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐏 | Gojo x Fem!Reader

tw ; death and poorly written graphic scenes.

•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•••·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•••·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·••

Gojo cries out in frustration, his body slumped with exhaustion. For months, he’s been trying desperately to bring you back, but time and time again, he fails. He’s tried over 382 times, each in a desperate attempt to save you, his beloved wife, from the grasp of death. But no matter how many times he returns, Sukuna wins. He always wins. Every time he returns, you end up limp, lying in a puddle of your own blood, your eyes, once so full of life, now lifeless, reminding him of his failure.

The relentless cycle has begun to wear on him, fraying his once unshakeable resolve. Each time he rewinds, the pain of seeing you die anew is as fresh and unbearable as the first. The memories of your final moments haunt him with a visceral intensity—your eyes wide with fear and pain, the way your blood stained the ground, the chilling stillness of your once-vibrant form. He can’t escape the relentless torment of these images, and they compound with every failed attempt.

In this iteration of the loop, Gojo finds himself back in the dimly lit alley where it all happened. The aftermath of his battle with Sukuna lies scattered around him—debris, broken weapons, and the residue of chaotic energy. The alley is eerily silent, the air heavy with the lingering scent of smoke and blood. Gojo's breathing is ragged, his face streaked with tears and grime. He feels as though the weight of the entire universe has settled upon his shoulders, crushing him with its immense burden.

Desperation drives him to his knees beside your body, and he clutches his head in his hands, his sobs escaping in ragged gasps. He slams his fist against the cold, unyielding ground, the pain barely registering compared to the emotional anguish that consumes him. Each thud reverberates through his chest, mingling with the crushing weight of guilt and helplessness.

The memories of your last moments together replay in his mind with excruciating clarity. He remembers the warmth of your laughter, the sparkle in your eyes, and the way your presence made the world seem brighter. And now, all he’s left with are these fleeting, precious memories and the stark, painful reality of your absence.

“Why can’t I save you?” he cries out into the void, his voice cracking under the strain. “Why can’t I change this? I've tried everything—every strategy, every possible outcome. What am I missing? Why does it always end like this? What happened to me being the strongest? Why can't I be strong when it comes to saving you?”

The night sky above offers no answers. The stars, indifferent and distant, provide no solace. The silence of the alley is oppressive, a cruel reminder of his isolation. Gojo feels a profound sense of solitude, the weight of his endless failure pressing down on him like a leaden shroud. He's fought valiantly against Sukuna, explored every possible avenue, and yet the outcome remains the same.

Each attempt to save you has left him more weary and disheartened than the last. The cycle has become a cruel parody of hope, where each attempt to alter the past only reinforces his sense of futility. The weight of 382 failures bears down on him, each failure a knife twisting deeper into his heart.

But despite the overwhelming despair, a flicker of determination still burns within him. He knows that if he’s ever going to break free from this tragic loop, he must confront not only Sukuna but also the limitations of his own understanding and strength. He can’t accept that this is the end of his journey, that he’s doomed to watch you die forever.

With a heavy heart and a steely resolve, Gojo pushes himself to his feet. His body is bruised and battered, his spirit nearly broken, but his love for you drives him onward. He refuses to surrender to the despair that threatens to engulf him. He must find a new way, a hidden possibility he hasn’t yet uncovered.

As he steels himself for another attempt, Gojo casts one last glance at your lifeless form, his heart aching with every beat. He knows that each attempt brings him closer to the truth, but the cost of each failure is increasingly steep. He has no choice but to continue, driven by the hope that somewhere, somehow, there is a way to change the past and bring you back to life.

In the stillness of the night, Gojo’s resolve hardens. The battle is far from over, and he won’t give up until he’s uncovered the key to breaking this tragic cycle, no matter the personal cost. He embraces the pain and frustration, transforming it into a fierce determination to finally end the loop and save the woman he loves.

Attempt 383

Gojo's senses snap into focus as he emerges from the crushing void of the time loop. The familiar alleyway stretches out before him, marred by the shadows of countless failed attempts. You are there, alive and standing amidst the chaos, a sight that both invigorates and terrifies him. The briefest flicker of hope ignites within him, only to be immediately overshadowed by the crushing weight of past failures. His heart races with a mix of anticipation and dread.

He's been here 382 times before, each attempt marked by his desperate, relentless fight against Sukuna. Each time, he’s failed to save you. The memory of your lifeless body, so cold and still, haunts him. Every attempt ends with him unable to alter the tragic outcome. And now, as he sees you alive once again, he is driven by a fierce determination to make this attempt different.

With a mix of emotions within him, he has one thought on his mind: saving you.

Sukuna's menacing presence is not far behind. The malevolent aura fills the air as Gojo prepares for the inevitable confrontation. He's exhausted by every strategy, every maneuver, but this time he feels an unyielding resolve to make it work. The weight of every past failure drives him forward, fueling his determination to finally succeed.

The fight with Sukuna is fierce and chaotic. Gojo's moves are a blur of precision and power, his techniques executed with a desperate urgency. The alleyway becomes a battleground of light and darkness, a testament to Gojo's unrelenting will to protect you. He fights with a raw, unrestrained intensity, driven by the desperate need to save you from the fate that has befallen you so many times before.

Despite his best efforts, Sukuna’s power remains formidable. The battle stretches on, each clash of their abilities a testament to their respective strengths and weaknesses. Gojo's frustration mounts with every failed attempt to gain the upper hand, every moment where Sukuna seems to slip away from his grasp. The weight of past failures presses heavily on him, and the crushing realization that he may not succeed this time grips him with a cold, relentless hold.

As the fight reaches its peak, Gojo's focus is entirely on defeating Sukuna. His strategies are complex, his attacks relentless, but the familiar pang of inadequacy starts to set in. He can feel it slipping away—the success he’s so desperately fought for, the chance to save you. The battle is a chaotic dance of fury and despair, with Gojo’s hope wavering with every passing moment.

In a heart-wrenching moment of realization, Sukuna’s malevolent force overwhelms Gojo. The fight is brutal, and despite his best efforts, Gojo's strength begins to falter. He's driven to the brink of exhaustion, each blow from Sukuna a reminder of the futility of his struggle. The weight of his past failures and the fear of the inevitable final moment hang heavily over him.

Then it happens. A final, crushing blow from Sukuna sends Gojo reeling. The world around him blurs as he staggers, his body battered and weak. He turns desperately toward you, his heart shattering at the sight of your pained, bloody figure. The realization hits him with a devastating finality—he has failed again.

“No!” Gojo's cry is a raw, anguished scream that echoes through the alleyway. His voice cracks with the weight of his despair as he collapses to his knees, the once vivid hope now dimmed by the crushing reality of his repeated failures. He looks at you, his vision blurring with tears, and sees the inevitable outcome he’s tried so hard to prevent.

“Again! Again! I need to try again!” he cries, hitting his forehead against the concrete floor, tears pouring from his eyes and staining the alleyway. As he sits up, an overwhelming feeling of defeat swirls through him. “I need to try again!” he screams, sending himself back once more.

Attempt 384

In the alleyway once more, Gojo’s heart sinks as he sees you lying lifeless, a haunting scene he’s come to dread. Blood pools around you, staining your clothes and face with a terrified expression frozen in time. “Fuck! Again!” he cries out in frustration, tearing at the seams of reality as he restarts the cycle for yet another attempt.

Attempt 456

Gojo's hands tremble as he surveys the scene yet again. You lie on the ground, a haunting reminder of his endless struggle. Every attempt to change the outcome has ended in the same tragic result. “Why am I unable to fix this? Why can’t I save you?” he mutters, a deep sense of despair seeping into his voice. The crushing weight of failure drags him down as he restarts the cycle once more.

Attempt 689

Another attempt falls apart as Gojo watches helplessly. Your body is once again lifeless, blood staining the grimy alley. The look of terror on your face is etched into his memory, a constant reminder of his failures. He slams his fist against the wall, the frustration boiling over. “This can’t be happening again!” he shouts, his voice breaking as he plunges back into the cycle.

Attempt 812

He clenches his fist angrily as you fall limp once more, his eyes hollow, his body aching with exhaustion. “Why? Why? Why!” he screams, tears spilling out over his face and onto his cheeks. His body collapses onto the floor as he cries. “I need to try again. I can't give up on you,” he says to your limp body, blood seeping into his own clothing, as he restarts the cycle once again.

Attempt 902

Another desperate attempt to save you. He’s lost count of how long it’s been, but it doesn’t matter to him; you’re the only thing that matters to him. He needs to save you. He needs to. But it ends the same. You are once again sprawled in a pool of blood, the terror in your eyes as vivid as ever. Gojo's breath comes in ragged gasps as he looks at the destruction he cannot prevent. His voice cracks under the strain. “It’s always the same…” With a shuddering exhale, he restarts, each cycle a new level of anguish.

Attempt 1002

Gojo stands amidst the ruins of his thousandth attempt, staring at your bloodied, lifeless body. The hopelessness of his endless failures weighs heavily upon him. “I've done everything,” he murmurs, his voice barely more than a broken whisper. Tears stream down his face as he forces himself to begin once more, the crushing reality of his despair almost too much to bear. This tiring cycle crushed his hopes, causing him to doubt more and more if anything will ever change.

Attempt 1003: The Final Attempt

Gojo steps into the alleyway for what feels like the millionth time. Each attempt has bled into the next, the cycle of failure, a relentless loop from which he cannot escape. This time, he feels a profound weariness settle deep within his bones. The sight of you, lifeless and bloodied, has become an unbearable ritual. The image has now tainted his memory of you, your once happy image becoming lost in the newfound, bloodied image of you.

The familiar scene unfolds before him. You’re lying in a pool of blood, your once vibrant eyes now dimmed with terror. The same pang of anguish strikes him as he kneels beside you. Every detail is the same: your clothes, stained and torn; your face, etched with the final, painful expression. His hands tremble as he reaches out, desperate to feel any sign of life.

“No…” he chokes out, his voice breaking. He desperately checks your pulse, but the lifelessness is a cruel reminder that nothing has changed. His heart pounds with a mix of fury and sorrow, the crushing weight of his repeated failures bearing down on him.

His body screams at him out of exhaustion, wanting nothing more than to just collapse. The relentless effort of fighting, failing, and trying again has worn him thin. His legs feel like lead, his arms heavy and unresponsive, each movement a painful reminder of his limits. The weight of his exhaustion is matched only by the weight of his despair, dragging him further into a pit of helplessness.

He tries to stand, but his legs betray him, collapsing beneath him. He doesn’t fight it though; he can’t save you, he’ll never be able to save you.

Sukuna’s laugh echoes through the alleyway. “Satoru Gojo? Surrendering? Do my eyes deceive me?” he taunts as he closes the space between them, Gojo too exhausted to even respond, his eyes refusing to leave you.

He can barely muster the strength to lift his head, his eyes meeting Sukuna’s with a final, hollow resolve. He looks back down at you, his lips moving slowly, struggling to form the words that have been on his mind through every failed attempt, every heartbreaking loop.

“I love you, [name],” he mutters, his voice cracking with a weak tone. Gojo's eyes flutter, the last vestiges of his strength waning as he braces himself for the end. The energy from Sukuna’s attack builds to an unbearable intensity, casting a stark, harsh light over the alleyway. Time seems to slow, each second stretching into an eternity as Gojo takes one last look at the scene of his failures and the memory of your smiling face.

Gojo opens his eyes, a serene warmth enveloping him as he lies in a field of vibrant flowers, the sun casting a gentle glow over his face. A smile tugs at his lips.

“So, this is the afterlife?” he murmurs, his voice barely more than a whisper. He frowns, remembering his last moments.

“No, it’s not,” you reply, your presence beside him snapping him out of his thoughts. Your fingers brush through his hair tenderly. Gojo's eyes widen in disbelief as tears begin to stream down his face. He sits up, staring at you, his voice trembling. “[N-name]?” he asks, as though you might vanish at any moment.

You nod, your smile tender. “You did good. Thank you for trying to save me.” Your words are soft and soothing, and Gojo’s tears flow more freely. You close the distance between you, wrapping him in a tight embrace. “I’m so sorry,” he croaks, a frown on his face, “I-I couldn’t save you, I failed.” His voice is muffled as he buries his head in your shoulder.

“No, you did good. Don’t forget that,” you say, holding his head against you. “You kept fighting just to save me, and that’s more than enough.” You say soothingly. He stays silent, his mind full of doubt, a crushing feeling of guilt overwhelming his sense of self.

“Do you want to go to the afterlife? I can take you,” you offer gently, your voice filled with warmth, noticing his distress.

Gojo buries his face in the crook of your neck, his voice muffled and trembling. “As long as you don’t leave me again,” he whispers, his voice cracking.

•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•••·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•••·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·••

please read request rules before requesting ! :)

back to masterlist

this is on my a03 and wattpad too

[a-tad-bit-obsessed]

There’s something about the fact that Alice takes Rio’s knife (to do the protection circles) and Rio just lets her

[atotalpitch]

Anna Kendrick talking (briefly) about Beca's relationship with the Bellas was NOT on my 2024 bingo card. in fact, i'm actually physically shaking. what the hell.

[nabtime]

Sir Waylon of Gotham

Waylon wasn't much for talkin' to hoity-toity well-to-doers. Didn't much like their attitude. Or the way they looked at 'im. Lookin' down their noses, all pinched-faced and holier-than-thou, like he was the scum of the earth for the way he looked. And while Waylon wouldn't deny that he was scum, it sure weren't for lookin' the way he did. He'd earned that title fair 'n square, through hard work 'n strikin' fear inta the people of Gotham.

And he did that by bitin' they's arms off, not 'cause he was a li'l scaly.

Point was, Waylon didn't talk much with fancy people. Yeah, he talked to the Bat Brood and they could half be considered fancy on account of mostly bein' Waynes under the mask, but they didn't count. Not really. 'Specially their newest petite couyon that liked to swing about in his sewers like the chit owned the place. He didn't know how the kid was added to the family- coulda been adopted, coulda been one a' the other one's partner, coulda been another blood son a popped up outta nowhere 'gain.

Waylon didn't ask and the chit never said. No, all Phantom ever wanted to talk 'bout was how Waylon was doin. Idjit was far too concerned about Waylon's well-bein' when he shoulda been mindin' his own damn business. Kid said it was part a his business. That heroes had to check in on the reformed, make sure they were well and happy so they didn't have a need to get back inta villainy. Waylon wanted to call bullshit on 'im but he just didn't have the heart when the kid looked so earnest 'bout it.

And maybe the kid was swingin' in all the time just to check in on an Old Croc. Maybe even the kid didn't mind bein' 'round 'im an 'is big, scary teeth. Sure it were more likely he needed an escape an' the sewers were a place most Bats didn't venture less they had to, but iffin that were true- kid didn't have to find and talk to him every time.

All this was to say that he'd gotten used to seein' Danny 'round the sewers, and even seein' Jay when the older kid was sent to bring the other back topside.

Who he had not gotten used to seein' in the sewers, though, was a pretty thing all done up in medieval dress and glowin' green. Nor was he used to the hulking Knight done up in glowin' black armor standin' next ta her.

And, again, Waylon wasn't much for talkin' to hoity-toity people, let alone Ghost Royalty or some such, but he was still a man with manners. An' they were in his sewers (well, an' Grundy's, but the big lug weren't here, so's point was moot) so he was haven'ta be the one to greet 'em.

He growl echoed off the stone and muck as he approached the two beings that were floating midair, just above the water. They both looked lost until he fully rose from the grime and addressed them.

"Youins need somethin? Ya lookin fer Danny?"

And, well, Waylon said he had manners. Never said he was gonna use 'em.

"Oh!" said the sweet thing in flowing gown, her voice just as soft as she looked. "Yes! You must be the good Sir Waylon of Gotham that the King speaks so fondly of. I am Princess Dorathea and this is my personal guard, Fright Knight."

Sir Waylon? Now that's not somethin' he's ever heard afore. Him? Deservin' of a title like Sir? Ain't no way. He weren't 'bout to say nothin', but it sure did make him feel all flustery that a noble Lady like her would think so highly of a monster like him.

"Nah I wouldn' say he's 'xactly fond a me, but the name is Waylon, yeah, uh- My Lady."

And she smiled at 'im, sweet as anythin', like he weren't made a sharp edges an spilled blood. The big Knight aside her was actin like that too, posture relaxed as he just let her get closer. Closer an most people ever dared. 'Cept Phantom an some a the Bats. Was it a ghost thing? No fear a death, so whats scary about a big man with sharp teeth anymore?

"Would Sir Phantom be near-abouts?" she asked. "I require his counsel on matters of import."

"Sorry, cher- uh, My Lady," he grumbled, "ain't gotta clue where he's at. Somewhere's topside, prolly."

Her shoulders slumped just the slightest, obviously disappointed in his answer. And try as he might to want to give her a better one, he only knew where the kid was when he wanted to hang around underground. Waylon avoided the streets at all costs these days, not wantin' to risk trouble again. He'd spent enough of his days wastin' away in Arkham and Blackgate, thanks.

The Lady turned thoughtful though and graced him with a tilt of her head and a smile. "Perhaps you would deign to assist me instead, Sir Waylon?"

"Well nah, I'd love ta, My Lady. Supposin' its somethin' I can help ya with."

"Yes," she said, circling around him in a graceful glide, "so long as you are willing, you will suit just fine."

"Ya still haven't told me what ya need help with, ah- My Lady."

Waylon couldn't see the Knight's expression but he could almost feel the amusement pourin' off a him. And he wondered just what the hell he'd agreed to that a guy like that'd find it funny.

"My brother is making moves to take back the Kingdom. He has amassed a small, but skilled contingent of rebels and intends to usurp me at the upcoming Yule Celebration."

"So ya need muscle ta help stop 'im?"

"Oh no," she said, sweet but full of venom- like arsenic. Her grin was now full of teeth, teeth much to sharp for a proper Lady like her, and her eyes turned to glowing reptilian points. "I can take care of him myself. I intended to ask Sir Phantom along as contingency."

She looked him up and down and the Knight standing guard behind her was projectin' a certain smugness as he did the same.

"You, however, Sir Waylon," she said, and the tone near sent a shiver down his spine. "Will do well as both warrior and suitor."

"What say you?"

[frankiebirds]

[wangxianficrecs]

💙 fragmentary anamnesis by besanii

💙 fragmentary anamnesis

by besanii (@besanii)

Not rated, 2k, Wangxian

Summary: He’s seen people like him before. He’s watched them all: lost souls still tethered to the world, searching for something that had been denied them in life and they now seek in death. They wander the earth day after day, year after year, century upon century, until they can no longer remember the reason they linger. And then they come here, to this little shop of his stuck between life and death, and he ushers them back into the cycle of reincarnation. (or: Wei Wuxian works at a tea shop in the afterlife.) Kay's comments: Just found this story again after reading it years ago and absolutely loving it and even more delighted to see that it absolutely holds up. It's just perfect. Wei Wuxian is stuck in the afterlife serving people Mengpo's soup. One day, he's serving Lan Wangji too. They don't remember each other. (Can you hear the sound of my heart breaking?) Don't worry though, there's a happy ending! Excerpt: He's not sure what finally tips him over the edge. The next time the man comes into his shop and walks up to the counter, he's waiting for him with a bowl already on the counter and a smile plastered on his face. The man frowns. "I did not order this," he says. "Rules of the house," he lies. "You've been here for centuries. It's time." The man shakes his head. "No, I am still looking for someone." The determination in his voice stirs something akin to admiration—or perhaps pity—in his chest. "I know they will come, sooner or later. I will wait." "What if they've already gone ahead without you?" he asks. "Then the last few centuries would have been for nothing." Doubt creeps into that perfectly sculpted face and he feels a sharp pain in his own heart at the sight. "Then I will wait here until his next life is over," he says. "However long it takes. I will wait."

pov wei wuxian, reincarnation, chinese mythology & folklore, mutual pining, memory loss, grief/mourning, major character death, angst with a happy ending, afterlife, emotional hurt/comfort, reunions

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

[adventures-in-mangaland]

Yet Another Dead Boy Detective Fic Rec List

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

I've been having so much fun with these, so I've decided to make another! See above for links to my other fic rec lists. ♥️

Like We're Gonna Die Young (Again) by RoseGanymede95

The latest installment in the superb Codependency World Cup series has the boys attend a nefarious house party and grapple with old frenemies, 90s fashion and temporary amnesia. Also fleshes out their achingly sad backstories, but compensates with the triumphant return of Pierre the rabbit.

When I Picture You by Gruoch

Charles gets braceleted by the Cat King instead of Edwin and receives his heart's desire... being alive again. This author has a special gift for taking fun sounding premises and turning the angst up to 11. So excellent.

young blood (never get chained) by ghostinthelibrary

University AU in which half-demon Charles intervenes in Edwin's ritual sacrifice and inadvertently binds their souls together... I'm genuinely obsessed with this AU, it has so much potential for tons of delicious tropes. Human!Edwin getting a crash course in supernatural shenanigans! Soulmate vibes!Found Family! Demon lore! What's not to love??

Ghosts and Monsters by justafandomfollower

Charles is also sacrificed and the boys meet in Hell! Fantastic premise and executed really well. I loved Masterful Edwin taking charge and protecting Charles while inwardly despairing. Highly recommended.

back to back they faced each other by ShanaStoryteller

The Night Nurse has a theory about how Charles was able to rescue Edwin from Hell so quickly... I'm genuinely shocked I haven't recced this one already. Sorry guys, I forgor. Anyway, this has interesting "Guardian" (angel?) lore, great meta and we even get some temporary amnesia as a treat.

boyfriend jacket by skadii

5+1 times Edwin borrowed Charles' jacket. The characterisation is on point, and it has some great OCs (Kyle the snarky seeing-eye cat!) and really sweet payneland moments. Plus Charles' jacket doing its most to annoy the Cat King.

Looking Like the Sunrise by letters_of_stars

Edwin thinks he's cursed so he and Crystal must team up to solve the case of his Mysterious and Suddenly Appearing Rizz. Funny and sweet friendship fic with some quality Edwin-Crystal bonding and discussions of trauma.

The Case of the Anonymous Confession by Mayarenerose

College AU featuring Charles posting an 'anonymous' online confession about his complicated feelings for his bestie. The closet is glass, but Edwin is oblivious and Crystal is in pain. Cute and funny epistolary social media fic done really well.

the middle of something wonderful by KiaraSayre

Does what it says on the tin and gives us a trope salad of cosy vignettes, including a time loop, temporary amnesia, sudden corporality and Crystal and Edwin trying to get a good grade in Party. Wholesome.

My heart is like a haunted house (series) by halffulljampot

Charles (unknowingly) befriends the ghost of Edwin's mother and constantly gushes to her about his amazing best friend/boyfriend. Beatrice is a great OC and it's just nice (though extra tragic) to read a fic in which Edwin had loving parents. Read it for Family Feels and wholesome intergenerational friendship.

the first rule of fight club by e_va

The boys are captured by an evil underground fighting ring. The fic is from Charles' PoV, so the prospect of having to fight Edwin was especially stomach-churning. Still, we get Edwin being a badass and a brilliant surprise cameo I don't want to spoil.

The Case of The... by sophisticatedyet

Edwin borrows Niko's negligee and Charles' brain breaks. There's also a case and giant squids, but Charles' Distracted By The Sexy crisis is the main (hilarious) event.

in those heavy days when love became an act of defiance by aletterinthenameofsanity, JUBE514

Daemon AU and first meeting fic! Loved the worldbuilding, insightful character work and lovely use of Greek mythology. Honestly, this fandom needs more daemon AUs.

spinning around and around in an ocean of grief (your ladder came down to the sea) by Ingi

Prequel to DontOffendTheBees' excellent College AU, expanding on the boys being alive and in school together. Also has its own prequel about their first meeting from Edwin's point of view. This one, though, is a Charles' Bisexual Journey/Feelings Realization fic. So lovely.

head in the clouds but my gravity's centered by shadowquill17

Face Touching: The Fic. I just love non-sexual intimacy in fics and this one is so tender. I also love Accidental Kissing and Feelings Realization so my cup runneth over.

i don't want to rest in peace by handwrittenhello

Different First Meeting fic featuring Poltergeist Charles! Loved the concept, even though it made me sad.

the great snogging debacle of '95 by thatgayprince

Edwin disguises himself as a girl and Charles starts and then defers a sexuality crisis for 30 years. Funny, steamy and emotional.

a beautiful day to say goodbye by ofstitches

The agency take on the case of a depressed house. This is another bittersweet Edwin backstory fic with discussions of grief.

Smitten in the Stacks by cordelianoir

Adorable prequel to lolotr's equally adorable library AU. Meet cute featuring (platonically married) Dad!Charles crushing on the hot librarian who leads Children's Storytime.

Jenny Green: Butcher, Hot Mess, Reluctant Queer Elder by Money_Maker

Jenny-centric fic! The focus is on Jenny and her financial, mental and emotional struggles post-canon, but mentoring Edwin through his queer self-discovery becomes a big part of that. This turns into a really sweet friendship, plus Found Family Feels and some fun outsider PoV of the boys' dynamic.

I've always got more recs so watch this space! ❤️

[3twindragons]

Winteriron/ if they met during the first iron man movie.