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#Loss
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feral-ballad · 2 days
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Caitlin Bailey, from Solve for Desire: Poems; “Poppies”
[Text ID: “My body is a bruise, purpled with loss. / I am tired of swallowing your name, / finding ink on each of your shirts, / red petals in the pages of books.”]
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venezashade · 2 days
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He was a good man. And an even better friend. And you killed him.
Happy Malevoversary 2024! Here is my contribution. I’ve chosen the prompt “Loss”. Enjoy my mess!
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bl00dfroma-fairy · 2 days
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heartofmuse · 1 day
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People have come and taken volumes from my shelves and never returned them. I still hold the empty spaces within me.
e.v.e.
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wangxianficrecs · 8 hours
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One for Heaven and Earth by cerbykerby
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One for Heaven and Earth
by cerbykerby (@cerbykerby)
T, 7k, Wangxian
Summary: An incredulous "Whoa," behind Lan Wangji yanks him out of his meditative state. He spins around fast enough for his wet hair to stick to his cheek. His eyes widen in horror. On the shore of the Cold Springs, Wei Wuxian stands, half-dressed in his own robes. He holds up Lan Wangji's heavenly robe, the fabric shining like spilled stars at midnight. "Lan Zhan," Wei Wuxian breathes, a whole constellation reflecting in his eyes. "What's this? It's so—" ---------- On the night Lan Wangji's mother left, she gave him a divine robe and told him to never let anyone see or take it from him. Kay's comments: Absolutely loved this re-telling of MDZS where Lan Wangji's mother was a heavenly maiden and made heavenly robes for him and his brother. A very creative look at the backstory between Lan Wangji's parents and I love the subtle ways it affected his relationship with Wei Wuxian as well. Beautifully written too! Excerpt: The Gusu Lan forehead ribbon means self-restraint. It is not meant to be touched by anyone other than one's fated person. Only with one's fated person can one truly be free. The heavenly robe is a gift bestowed on Lan Wangji by his mother. It is a status symbol as much as it is a part of his identity. Celestial blood flows through him. The robe is proof that he is entitled to walk among the heavens as he does on earth. To steal his robe would be to deny him his birthright. To even have permission to touch his robe would be a sign of complete trust. A forehead ribbon from his father. A heavenly robe from his mother. Both hold heavy significance. Neither can be given away without careful consideration. Which, to Lan Wangji's alcohol-riddled mind, is the perfect reason why Wei Wuxian should have both items.
pov lan wangji, canon divergence, madam lan lives, lan family feels, chinese mythology & folklore, fairy tale retellings, canon compliant, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, grief/mourning, loss, angst with a happy ending, supernatural elements
~*~
(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)
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softheartsecrets · 3 days
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michaelmylove · 1 day
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Bit late but…
malevoversary day 1: Loss
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emanblr · 1 day
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💔 the endless amount of pain the apartheid state of Israel- the biggest terrorists on the planet the zionists have inflicted over decades on the Palestinians.
Their lust for Palestinian land is insane
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dk-thrive · 2 days
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I have become someone I do not understand, that others do not understand. I do not know the right way to be anymore.
— Amy Lin, Here After: A Memoir by Amy Lin (Zibby Books, March 5, 2024)
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Fëanorian Week - Celegorm
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And it's not getting better :D Let's hurt Tyelko a little, shall we?
Words: 520
Characters: Celegorm & Nerdanel, Celegorm & Curufin
Prompts: Childhood, Hunting, Strength & Beauty, Nargothrond
Warnings:Sadness, loss, death of a child, doom, bad decisions
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Rough, calloused fingers slid fervently along the worn curves of the small figurine, which had melted like ice in the sun over countless years of struggle and strife to the point where it had long since become unrecognisable.
The tiny creature—he couldn’t even remember whether it had originally been a bear or a wolf—was Celegorm’s best-kept secret.
He’d loved animals for as long as he could recall, and it had undoubtedly been in an effort to keep him from sneaking out of the nursery and into the woods that Nerdanel, famous and justly extolled sculptress, had crafted this little companion to soothe his desire for adventure and freedom.
Maybe, he now thought as he rubbed his hidden talisman yet again to strengthen his resolve and quieten the voice of doubt and agony within his mind, it didn’t matter what fey savage beast his mother had had in mind.
A heavy, sturdy child, Celegorm had certainly often reminded her of a bear cub himself as she stood, harried by dark foreboding, beside his crib with a worried frown.
Even in so frivolous an endeavour, Nerdanel had not let herself grow negligent, and it was a shame that his nigh-on superstitious habit of touching the stone doll had irrevocably erased so many of the marvellous details she had carved in meticulous handiwork.
Curufin, stern and solemn, shook his head almost imperceptibly—he might have known or at least guessed with what his solitary brother toyed in the depths of his pocket. Still, he preferred not to bring up their parents if not absolutely necessary for fear that it would irrevocably break their spirits and keep them from pursuing their path with the necessary determination.
Fate was unravelling fast now, and Celegorm was reminded abruptly of the fact that he’d never been good at making sensible decisions. He’d have to blindly rely on his brother’s cold intelligence and the residual maternal magic with which his childhood charm was imbued.
For the first time in his life, Celegorm didn’t feel heartened and comforted by his mother’s craft, though, and he clenched his teeth stubbornly as this last despicable act of disloyalty and betrayal stripped him of every remaining blessing he’d been hitherto granted.
“Are you ready?”
He nodded. What else could he do? They’d soon leave Nargothrond in hopes of salvation and pursuit of inevitable desolation, and—no matter how much any of them wished things to be different—there was nought he could do to change the tide of destiny.
Following his brother, Celegorm considered shortly leaving his most precious treasure to be buried and forgotten along with Finrod’s jewels and the vestiges of their honour, but his fingers wouldn’t unclasp.
In the end, feeling the gentle caress of death falling over him like a ghostly shroud, Celegorm slipped the unidentifiable stone guardian into the pocket of a silver-haired boy who stood, crying noiselessly, over the broken body of his father.
“Mother,” Celegorm mouthed, hoping against all hope that his faithful fetich would manage one more miracle and keep another wild-eyed, fey boy safe in the dangerous darkness of the woods.
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-> Masterlist
@feanorianweek, and we go on...
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remanence-of-love · 2 days
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everythingever · 5 months
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the vocabulary of loss is the dictionary
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feral-ballad · 5 months
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Mosab Abu Toha, from Things You May Find Hidden in My Ear: Poems from Gaza
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cerleansky · 2 years
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The legacies people leave behind in you.
My handwriting is the same style as the teacher’s who I had when I was nine. I’m now twenty one and he’s been dead eight years but my i’s still curve the same way as his.
I watched the last season of a TV show recently but I started it with my friend in high school. We haven’t spoken in four years.
I make lentil soup through the recipe my gran gave me.
I curl my hair the way my best friend showed me.
I learned to love books because my father loved them first.
How terrifying, how excruciatingly painful to acknowledge this. That I am a jigsaw puzzle of everyone I have briefly known and loved. I carry them on with me even if I don’t know it. How beautiful.
~Edit~
Yikes guys I didn’t expect this post to blow up.
I’m grateful it did though. Looking at all the comments and tags really takes a stab at my heart because it just shows how wired we are for connection. If life has any meaning, then it’s that.
This concept really sunk its teeth into me as it reassures the notion that no one is ever truly gone. Parts of them just change into you.
That teacher I talked about inspired me to become a teacher myself. This was my first year teaching. Here’s to a new generation of curved i’s.
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roadworxx · 9 months
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