#tw: afterlife

[thenightmarketofdathomir]

Excited to see what wares the Nightmarket has today! Trick or treat!

House of Night Headcanons: On Death and the Afterlife among the Nightsisters of Dathomir

Warnings: Death, resurrection, zombification and death preparations, death rituals

There are twin sculptures that guard the gates to the Nightsister's mortuary. Women, of course. Deities, in fact. Not gods in the literal sense because Dathomir has always had two of them (one has Fangs and one has Wings, if you remember) but these two Nightsisters were once great warriors elevated to god-status. The Nightbrothers don't remember the story. It's not theirs to own, and any territories leftover from the war are left to ruin and decay. Good riddance a lot of them say.

The structure itself is carved directly from one of the mountains, and when you pass through the doors, all is silence. Everything is dark. In the aftermath of the Battle of Dathomir, no one goes there. The Nightbrothers believe it to be haunted. Not surprising considering how superstitious they are -- some places are off limits. The Lair where the Nightsisters lived, for example, but especially the mortuary where they prepared their dead for the afterlife.

You might be asking at this point, how do they know about it if it was forbidden in the first place? Nightbrothers were servants, so it's inevitable that Nightbrother hands carried the Nightsister dead for preparation. They never touched them. Those rituals were reserved for anyone with magick, and being bereft of the ichor and the power to control it, a Nightbrother wouldn't be involved in the process. That doesn't mean that those carrying the bodies never spied the goings on of those rituals -- someone had to be curious. Someone would return to tell the tale to the other brothers around the campfire in the flickering light, when the darkness crept in.

The Nightsisters were familiar with making their own graves, the structures used to lift the funerary pods and the egg-shaped coffins themselves. Rancor leather and sinew stitching, wrapped with red linens -- red, the colour of blood which was sacred to their Fanged God, who granted them the power of resurrection. built exactly to resemble their sacred gravethorns, it's no surprise that the pods resemble wombs, because these women went to the slumber of death knowing they were awaiting their rebirth.

Sure, the bodies were prepared with sacred oils infused with the Water of Life to anoint them, holding skin and bone together to prevent decomposition, and tucked into a slumbering position into their coffins so lovingly built to protect them in their afterlife.

But what the Nightbrothers didn't realize is that preparations for their death and return came long before a Nightsister departed this life. The ritual began while they were living: a commitment ceremony of sorts, and preparations. Lessons. Spells and rituals to better prepare them to be called back so that when they died, their spirit would be ready to rise to their true purpose and vocation. The House of Night was a school first: it taught the Nightsisters how to die with honour so they could return to fulfill their oaths to their sisters: they would rise to protect Dathomir when summoned.

#Nightsisters #Nightbrothers #Star Wars Headcanons #Star Wars Horror #tw: death #tw: afterlife #tw: zombies #Dathomir #Dathomir Headcanons #The Night Market of Dathomir #fanon

[txemrn]

A Bushel and a Peck

Book: TRR

Pairing: Liam Rys x Riley Brooks-Rys

Word Count: ~3160

Warning: For mature audiences only; TW: major character deaths; mention of cancer, declining health, miscarriages; depiction of an afterlife

A/N: This is a follow-up to Wounded (you don't need to read it to understand this fic). I was asked to "fix it," and I think I did--I mean, I tried... but in a non-traditional way, that still leads to a true HEA. In a way, this is fairly fluffy, but sad fluffy.

A/N 2: Some of these characters, plot points and dialogue belong to our friends at Pixelberry. This was not beta'd; please excuse my errors.

~🖤~

"Can you show us another one?"

"Please, Auntie Ri? Just one more?"

Riley chuckles under her breath before a dry cough robs her titters. "You two aren't tired of those yet?"

Seven-year-old Monie grabs another leather-bound photo album as her five-year-old sister Ginny finishes a snack. The two girls visit with their great-great aunt every Thursday afternoon during the summer months while their mother runs errands.

"How about this one?" Monie passes the scrapbook to Riley, her frail, old hands gripping tightly to the heavy collection of photographs.

"Oh!" Riley squeals, a gravel to her voice, "you picked one of my favorite ones–"

"You say that about every album," Ginny retorts.

"Shhh, your manners!" Monie shakes her finger at her little sister.

Riley smiles warmly. "You're right; I do say that about my photo albums because I just love all of them." She pauses, licking her lined lips. "But this one…" her breath catches in adoration as she opens the front cover. "This one is very special. Here," she pats the empty spaces next to her on the bed, "let me show you."

The nieces eagerly climb on to the bed, sitting close on either side of Riley.

"Who is that?" Ginny exclaims in shock, looking over her aunt's arms in awe. "She looks like a Disney princess!"  

Riley curls an arm around her petite body, giving the little girl a gentle kiss in her raven curls.

"He's cute!" Monie croons, "he looks like–like Ken!"

Riley lets out a heartfelt laugh before coughing into a handkerchief. "This," she points to the tall, broad-shouldered man, dressed in full regalia, "is King William the first of Cordonia."

"Whoa," both girls hum in unison, their eyes glittering in awe.

"And this woman?" She points to the bride in the picture, "is me."

Ginny gasps, staring up at Riley. "But, Auntie Ri," Ginny puts a finger to her mouth, "where's your crown? And–and why is your hair a different color–?"

"Ginny!" Monie scolds.

Riley coughs into her hand, clearing her throat. "Those are some good observation skills," she boops Ginny on the nose, the little girl then turning to stick out her tongue at her older sister. "This picture was taken on my wedding day, over seventy years ago."

"Wow, that's older than Daddy," Ginny announces.

"So, that's Uncle Liam?" Monie guesses hopefully, pointing to the blond groom. 

Riley hums approvingly. "That is your great-great-uncle Liam."

Monie sighs dreamily looking at the picture. "You're so beautiful, Auntie Ri. Did you love him with all of your heart?"

Riley smiles, a sudden twinkle in her stormy blue eyes as she softly caresses her niece's cheek. "I still do."

After receiving Liam's grim test results for his cancer treatment, the young royal couple was advised by the Council to seek a second opinion. And then a third. But, the conclusion was always the same. Liam was dying. 

With the uncertainty of his time left, he made the difficult decision to step down as king. Cordonia was finally stable and strong enough that it could–and it would– thrive with the sudden change. 

But, once the choice was made, Liam never looked back to the country he loved so dearly. He couldn't. All he could see now was his wife, the woman that held his heart, the woman who wholly and bravely kept her vows…

… for worse…

… in sickness…

Liam and Riley savored every last moment they had with one another during his final eight weeks, laughing and revisiting old memories of their seven years of marriage. They enjoyed one last private waltz before he was confined to a wheelchair, one last café and baklava at their favorite late night bistro before he was restricted to the palace walls.  They held each other close at night, whispering prayers of love over one another, for just one more day, for just one more chance to say, 'I love you.'

And then he went.

Olivia Nevrakis assumed the throne as queen of Cordonia. Liam's short reign will always be celebrated in history as a time of rebuilding, as a time of peace, as a time that set the small country up for success. 

Though not reigning, Riley is still revered as a queen, but shortly after Liam's death, she returned to New York to be near family. She did return to Cordonia for visits, but otherwise, her life resumed back in the states. 

She never remarried. And after the four pregnancy losses she had with Liam, Riley had lost all hope and interest in ever becoming a mother. 

But even though her heart was shattered, she discovered abundant joy in a different familial role: being an aunt.  After the first generation of nieces and nephews had grown up, Riley quickly became the cornerstone of the Brooks family, highly regarded and respected. And loved. She was known as the fun aunt, the one with the best stories, the one that remembered birthdays and sporting events and recitals. She made sure every child in the family felt seen, heard, and above all else, loved.

Lost in the memories of her former life, a knock on the door interrupts Riley from her daydream. "Come in," she calls out, her soft timbre strained and gruff.

A young woman with dark hair bounds into the room, bracing her heavily pregnant belly. Monie and Ginny jump up from the bed, running to her with arms wide open. "Mommy!" They crash into her legs, nuzzling sweetly into their mother's sides.

"Hey, sweet girls," she croons, before she looks towards Riley, raising an eyebrow. "At least… I hope you two were sweet girls for Auntie Ri today."

"Oh, Jamie," Riley titters. "You know they are always perfect angels with me." She winks at her great-niece, hugging her daughters.

"Girls, Daddy is right outside. Can you go hold his hand? I need to talk with Auntie Ri for just a minute." 

Nodding their heads, the two young girls run back to their great-great aunt to give her hugs and kisses goodbye. 

"I love you–" Riley singsongs, giving them a knowing grin. Monie and Ginny chime in with her as they all sing in unison, "a bushel and a peck."

The girls raced to the hallway, instantly meeting their father. Jamie closes the door, letting out a sigh before turning her sad, glistening attention to her great aunt.

"Aunti Ri," a lump grows in her throat, "the doctors said you're refusing your heart cath."

Riley straightens out her posture, firming her jaw. "That's right, dear."

"Why?" The young woman whispers, wiping away a tear.

"Because what difference will it make?" Riley carefully grabs her walker, slowly making her way to her niece. "I'm almost 98-years-old, baby girl," she grabs Jamie's hand, comforting her as she watches her begin to cry. "It's time. I'm… ready to go home."

"But," Jamie exhales a trembling sob, "what about us? What if I'm not ready for you to go?"

Riley grins endearingly, "I know that feeling all too well." She gently rubs her thumb over her niece's fingers. "Did I ever tell you what my Liam said to me the night before he passed?"

Jamie dabs away her tears, shaking her head.

"We would stay up late into the night, dreaming of the life we could've had if it wasn't for, y'know, the cancer. But," Riley licks her lips, "that night. Our last night… Liam was quiet. There were no more what ifs or discussions of what could have been. Instead, he just smiled. Completely at peace." Riley's eyes flutter as she recounts the distant memory. "He simply said, 'I'm ready, love.'" Riley shrugs.

"Do you think he knew?" Jamie sniffles, "you think he was ready to die?"

"I think," Riley removes her bifocals, letting them hang around her neck as she draws closer to her niece. "He was ready to live again. He was ready for the next adventure that life has to offer."

Jamie tilts her head. "What's that?"

"Eternity," Riley chuckles, gripping tight to her great niece's arm. "He's been waiting for me a long time." She sighs with contempt, "You kids?" She chuckles to herself, "you are so strong. You all are. My presence isn't what makes you strong. It was our time together… and sure, you'll be sad. But this life?" Riley shakes her head. "It's not the end of the road. And as for me… I'm ready to live again. I'm ready for my next adventure." A tear rolls down Riley's cheek as she smiles brightly. "I'm ready for eternity."

Jamie helped Riley into her favorite rocking chair for her afternoon nap before dinner, covering her up with her favorite knitted blankets. The women hugged each other close before they finally said their goodbyes. 

Turning to leave, Riley calls Jamie back to her side.

"Baby girl?" Riley titters before she begins to sing. "I love you–"

Jamie lets out a heartfelt laugh, wiping away the last of her tears. "--a bushel and a peck."

----------

Warm beams of light crawl across Riley's skin, stirring her awake from her deep slumber. She sits up, rubbing the remainder of her sleepiness from her eyes when suddenly, she freezes. She blinks a few more times as confusion--and fear–billows through her veins.

Her room. It's different. The space was large, filled with the gorgeous scent of pink Cordonian hydrangeas, fresh picked rubies… and something else. Someone else.

Riley takes in the soft gray hue of the walls, accented by the navy toile window treatments. Everything beautiful in its place, everything perfectly neat, everything… oddly familiar. Like a distant dream, like the memory of another life.

Cautiously taking in her new surroundings, Riley begins to mindlessly fumble with the intricate stitching of a throw pillow, the threading comforting to her fingertips.

Then she stops. 

She holds up her hand, her ocean eyes growing wide with wonder. Her skin. It is pure like the first Lythikos snow. No blemishes, no creases. It's perfectly smooth, perfectly pink and supple. Speechless, she reaches up to touch her own flushed cheeks. 

And she gasps, the lines of the past century remarkably gone. Her face. It feels impossibly soft. Like velvet.

A thread of panic unfurls in her stomach as she throws the covers off her body, retreating to the en suite bathroom. Riley has had dreams like this before–many times, actually. Fantasies about her younger years, about her life in Cordonia, about the precious moments she had with the love of her life.

But there was something strange about this one. Something life-like. Something real.

Riley stares at her reflection in the mirror, her hands curiously exploring her body. Espresso tresses. Slender slopes of her waist and hips. She swivels to the left, then to the right, chuckling at her age-rewind. If she could only tell herself then what she knows now…

As she pretends to pin her hair up in different regal styles, the whisper of a melody floats into the room. Startled by the accompaniment, Riley twirls around, listening more intently. She takes a step forward. Then another. She cranes her neck towards the bedroom door, her only exit.

It was a guitar. Someone was playing it.

Riley carefully opens the door, and pads softly down the hallways, through the kitchen and to the foyer. She presses her ear to the front door of her quarters, the music crescendoing through the air.

Swiftly exiting the quarters, Riley tiptoes through the halls down to the main corridor, following the strumming of notes. She finally comes to a set of double doors, one of them sitting ajar as a heavenly light pours out.

Placing her fingertips on the ornate wood,  the vibrations of each chord stirs the wings of butterflies in her heart. Taking a deep breath, she pokes her head into the room.

A woman–an older woman–sits casually in a chair, her fingers meticulously plucking the strings. Riley focuses on her kind face and soft features. Her wavy blonde hair is pinned back into a low bun, exposing the brilliance of her crystal blue eyes.  Though expressionless as she played, the curves of her rosy lips are pleasant, friendly.

"Oh!" She exclaims, noticing Riley. "You're finally here!"

Riley's eyes grow into saucers. Does she know this woman? 

She watches the older woman set down her instrument before bounding towards where Riley stood.

"We have been waiting for you," she smiles sincerely, taking Riley's hands endearingly into her own. “We have so much to talk about–”

"Grandma!"

"Oh!" She lets out a hearty laugh as four small children file into the room, dashing quickly to her side. She bends over and greets each one with a tight hug and a kiss. "How are my darlings?"

Riley smiles at the interaction, admiring the love this woman has for her beautiful grandchildren.  She then casually surveys the room; are their parents nearby?

She looks back to the family when suddenly, she notices one of the blond boys with striking eyes like his grandmother is gazing up at her. He doesn't say a word, but his stare is friendly, warm and inviting.

Riley climbs onto her knees, her attention not leaving him as she soaks in his handsome mannerisms. Even for such a young boy, his hair was perfectly combed to the side. His collared shirt was properly tucked in, and he politely held his hands together behind his back. So precious, so refined and orderly, just like…

Riley gasps as a sea of tears gather in her eyes. She reaches out, combing her fingers through his short hair before stroking his freckled cheeks. And she lets out a silent whimper. "William?"

The young boy giggles, turning back to his brothers and sister. "I told you she would remember me!"

Wrapping her arms around his frame, Riley pulls him to herself tightly, his arms securing around her neck. "My–my baby boy…" One-by-one, each child approaches slowly, excitement written on their chubby faces. Riley caresses the cheeks of two more little boys: another blond and one with dark brunette hair like hers. "Henry?" She sniffles as he nods, chewing coyly on his fingernail. "Alexander?" The two boys join the embrace with their brother William, rivers cascading down their mother's face as she peppers them with kisses.

"Do you remember me, Mommy?"

Riley glances up to see a little girl with stormy blue eyes, her espresso waves tamed into two braids. Though she wore a pretty pink jumper with bows, she was wearing a pair of muddy galoshes. 

That's my girl. 

"My Eleanor," Riley whispers, extending her hand to join the fold with her brothers. She presses her lips into the little girl's temple as she holds her close. "Oh, my baby, I love you," she squeezes her grip around the boys, "all of you!" She snickers, "I love you."

"A bushel and a peck," Alexander pipes up. "Right, Mommy?"

New warm tears pour down Riley's reddened face as she lovingly dotes on her children. "That's right, baby," her breath quivers, "that's right. But… how did you–?"

"You used to sing that to me at night–"

"Me, too!" Henry exclaims while William nods in agreement.

"You and Daddy told me that over and over," Eleanor giggles, "until I woke up in Grandma's arms!" 

Riley freezes as she peers up at the older woman, now overcome with her own tears of joy. She slowly stands, her lips parting in awe. "Your majesty?"

"I haven't been called that in over 85 years!" The older woman shares a contagious laugh, “But, how about we just stick with ‘Eleanor’ for now?”  She quickly reaches out, pulling her daughter-in-law into a snug embrace. Riley quickly slinks her arms around the woman, holding her close as they both weep silently together. "You," Eleanor whispers, "were more than I ever dreamed for my Liam. You were–You are everything he deserves… and more.”

Riley suddenly lets go, staring into her mother-in-law's eyes. She bites her lip as she tilts her head curiously, almost in disbelief.

"Where… where is he?" She sobs into a smile.

Eleanor tucks Riley's hair behind her ear before resting her hands on her daughter-in-law's shoulders. "Where do you think, my dear?"

Riley stumbles backwards as a bright smile crawls across her face. She finally turns around, pushing through the double doors and out into the main corridor. After descending the grand staircase, she exits into the pure daylight, a gentle breeze greeting her.  She glances around the grounds, the fresh greenery invigorating her senses. Without thinking, she abruptly takes off down the steps, sprinting through the bushes, across the courtyard and around the fountain. Finally, she reaches a thick hedge of beautifully twisted vines and leaves. The garden maze.

Riley closes her eyes as she catches her breath, another gust of wind tangling in her hair. A tug on her heart beckons for her to keep going as she fumbles her way into the maze. She frantically runs around the corners and through the turns, her hands outstretched to catch her if she trips.

Making it around the last twist of the path, Riley spills into the center of the maze: the garden. Her eyes frantically search, scouring through the area, looking behind lattice work and dense pieces of foliage until finally, she gasps.

Around the corner along a private path, a tall, strongly-built man slowly paces next to a swing, his hands casually in his pockets. With his short locks of blond ruffling in the breeze, he glances at his watch before instantly feeling a pair of stormy blue eyes fixed on him.

As he peers over his shoulder, a smile tugs at his lips, his breath escaping his lungs as his eyes begin to shimmer.

"There you are, my love."

With reckless abandon, Riley dashes down the dirt path, gasping for air between her wails of disbelief. Leaping into the air, Liam's strong arms instantly catch her, pulling her close to his broad chest. His large hand cradles her intimately as his other fists tightly into her careless waves. She locks her legs around his waist, her fingers combing hungrily into his hair as she presses her face into his neck.

And she weeps, deep groans escaping her chest as her body shudders in his arms. 

"Shhh," Liam gently croons, warm tears coursing down his chiseled cheeks. "It's alright now. Everything is alright now."

Quieting down, Riley looks up to her husband, his lips immediately finding hers. "Is this real?" She pants, claiming his mouth again. "Please tell me this is real life, baby."

Liam pulls her into another deep kiss, his tongue gently caressing her lips apart as he elicits soft mewls from her mouth. He pulls back, his crystal blue gaze meeting her hopeful, tear-stained eyes. "It's better, love." He pushes a wayward tendril from her face. "This is eternity."

~🖤~

Thank you so much for your support! Every like, comment and reblog means the world to me! 🖤

~🖤~

Tags (Please let me know if you'd like to be added/removed)

PERMA

@alj4890 @anjanettexcordonia @ao719 @bascmve01 @charlotteg234 @issabees @kat-tia801 @kingliam2019 @mainstreetreader @mom2000aggie @nikirennie87 @peonierose @socalwriterbee @tessa-liam

ALL TRR

@3pawandme @alyshak92 @iaminlovewithtrr @kristinamae093 @lovingchoices14 @malblk21 @rubiwalker @sfb123 @twinkleallnight

~🖤~

#the royal romance #choices the royal romance #choices trr #king liam rys #liam rys #liam x mc #liam x riley #liam rys x riley brooks #tw: major character death #tw: cancer #tw: miscarriage #tw: afterlife

[plasmaberri]

At last we say goodbye to our generation 3 heir, Rhosyn. She had a long, fabulous life. Fame, fortune, and five fiancés to join her in the ghost life. 

#the sims 4 gen 2 #sim 4 challenge #sims 4 generation challenge #the sims legacy #not so berry rose #tw: death #tw: old age #tw: elderly death #tw: die #tw: afterlife #tw: after life #tw: ghost

[one-time-i-dreamt]

I died, I guess, and the afterlife had that feature where people from the living world would send messages to dead loved ones. My first letter was, in fact, a question from kids (who I didn't know) that asked me how to solve a math equation.

#dream #math #afterlife #school #death tw

[howlidae]

a comic i meant to clean up but never did for my Wright Afterlife Agency AU!! more info below the cut!!

basically, everyone who has died in ace attorney and is connected to phoenix feel a strange pull towards the WAA. spirits linger there and come and go as they please, with mia and gregory being the main spirits who greet and get new ghosts accustomed to their afterlife.

everyone in the WAA embrace the fact that there are ghosts and the ghosts can do minor poltergeist things in the office itself, such as shaking charley, opening books, and turning on the tv!!!

i have more rambly ideas on my twitter @ howlidae if u would like to see more though i also plan to make more content and post it here!!

ur free to ask or comment if u have any questions about it :3

#ace attorney #my art #mia fey #kristoph gavin #wright afterlife agency #blood tw

[ritterintahlia]

Goth Heaven

A piece from a causal conversation between Ritterintahlia and Ani-tu about the following screencaps of DRSG 95.

Spoilers and warnings: Richard not alive, Angel Till, angst, fluff, happy ending, snippets

Suddenly, he wasnt on Earth anymore.

He was trying to drink for the first time in Heaven. Then he straightened and saw his Angel.

His Angel was there when he first drank water. He was there to help him with everything: looking in the mirror, orientation, rediscovering himself. And in this kind of Goth Heaven, touching was not forbidden; hugs were even encouraged.

Mirrors were the most difficult. Angel explained that seeing himself was going to be a shock but he simply couldn't expect the surreal silver in his blue eyes. Now he had eyes of melted pale blue. His Angel had green. And he couldn't but look into them often.

#rammstein #fanfiction #rammstein fanfiction #tw: afterlife #ritterintahlia #richard kruspe #till lindemann #die sammlung #fluff

[sixteenseveredhands]

The Petelia Tablet, Greek, c.300-200 BCE: this totenpass (a "passport for the dead") was meant to be buried in a human grave; it bears an inscription that tells the dead person exactly where to go and what to say after crossing into the Greek Underworld

Made from a sheet of gold foil, this tablet measures just 4.5cm (a little over 1.5 inches) in length, and although it was found inside a pendant case in Petelia, Italy, it's believed to have originated in ancient Greece. It was meant to aid the dead in their journey through the Underworld -- providing them with specific instructions, conferring special privileges, and granting them access to the most coveted realms within the afterlife.

The Petelia tablet, displayed with the pendant case in which it was discovered

The tablet itself dates back to about 300-200 BCE, while the pendant case/chain that accompanies it was likely made about 400 years later, during the Roman era. It's believed that the tablet was originally buried with the dead, and that an unknown individual later removed it from the burial site and stuffed it into the pendant case. Unfortunately, in order to make it fit, they simply rolled it up and then snipped off the tip of the tablet. The final lines of the inscription were destroyed in the process.

The inverse side of the Petelia tablet

These textual amulets/lamellae are often referred to as totenpässe ("passports for the dead"). They were used as roadmaps to help guide the dead through the Underworld, but they also served as indicators of the elite/divine status of certain individuals, ultimately providing them with the means to obtain an elevated position in the afterlife.

The Petelia tablet is incised with an inscription in ancient Greek, and the translated inscription reads:

You will find a spring on your left in Hades’ halls, and by it the cypress with its luminous sheen.

Do not go near this spring or drink its water. You will find another, cold water flowing from Memory’s lake; its guardians stand before it.

Say: "I am a child of Earth and starry Heaven, but descended from Heaven; you yourselves know this. I am parched with thirst and dying: quickly, give me the cool water flowing from Memory’s lake."

And they will give you water from the sacred spring, and then you will join the heroes at their rites.

This is [the ... of memory]: [on the point of death] ... write this ... the darkness folding [you] within it.

The final section was damaged when the tablet was shoved into the pendant case; sadly, that part of the inscription does not appear on any of the other totenpässe that are known to exist, so the meaning of those lines remains a mystery (no pun intended).

Lamellae that are inscribed with this motif are very rare. They're known as "Orphic lamellae" or simply "Orphic tablets." As the name suggests, these inscriptions are traditionally attributed to an Orphic-Bacchic mystery cult.

The inscriptions vary, but they generally contain similar references to a cypress tree, one spring that must be avoided, another spring known as the "Lake of Memory," the sensation of thirst, and a conversation with a guardian (or another entity within the Underworld, such as the goddess Persephone) in which the dead must present themselves as initiates or divine individuals in order to be granted permission to drink from the Lake of Memory. They are thereby able to obtain privileges that are reserved only for the elite.

Though the specifics of this reward are often vague, it may have been viewed as a way to gain access to the Elysian Fields (the ancient Greek version of paradise) or as a way to participate in sacred rites; some totenpässe suggest that it may have allowed the soul to break free from the eternal cycle of reincarnation. Regardless, the overall objective was likely the same: to obtain a special status and acquire privileges that were inaccessible to most of the souls in the Underworld.

Sources & More Info:

Altlas Obscura: The Ancient Greeks Created Golden Passports to Paradise

The Museum of Cycladic Art: The Bacchic-Orphic Underworld

Bryn Mawr College: Festivals in the Afterlife: a new reading of the Petelia tablet

The Getty Museum: Underworld (imagining the afterlife)

The British Museum: Petelia tablet (with pendant case; chain)

#archaeology #history #anthropology #ancient greece #ancient history #greek mythology #Petelia tablet #Greek mysteries #orphic mysteries #orphism #greek underworld #hades #persephone #anthropology of death #religon #afterlife #tw death #classical antiquity #classical archaeology #ticket to paradise #whoever damaged this #probably #got #a #ticket #to tartarus #instead

[taiistired]

i need you more than anything

#taevi.png #life series #scott smajor #jimmy solidarity #solidarity gaming #flower husbands #dangthatsalongname #trafficshipping #so guess who watched scott's and jimmy's 3rd life and is now insane about jimmy's death and the impact it had on scott #it's so interesting about scott's grief in 3l especially in the moments when he learns jimmy is dead and how he chooses to express it #i'm still thinking about that afterlife scene and how it's so deeply intergal to scott's character #everyone say thank you to bree for getting me into fh i will never view them the same again #taevi have a consistent scott design challenge instant fail #blood tw #blood cw

[whereserpentswalk]

Is there a heaven for dragons after they are slain, a place of endless skies to fly through and endless gold to bathe in? Do the goblins have a place of endless caves when they die, with bugs to eat and no humans to hunt them? Do the vampires and ghouls have a place of endless night to go to when their false lives are laid to rest? Are the golems and minitours given a place to guard forever?

When a dragon is slain do the other dragons know? Do they visit its lair to find it empty? Do the trolls take count of the dead when they return from a battle with humanity, do they burry the ashes of those who are burnt by the morning sun? Is there something for orcs to pray to before battle, is there something to give them hope?

What do monsters feel before they die? What is the look in their eyes when we kill them? Is it fear? Could it be anything else?

#196 #my thougts #worldbuilding #fantasy #my writing #my worldbuilding #writing #magical realism #tw death #heaven #afterlife #prose #prose poetry #prose poem #flash fiction #dragon #dragons #goblins #orcs #vampires #trolls #meloncholy

[bonefall]

"Back in my day we loved our abusers or just disregarded them. We would never smash their heads against a wall until they agreed with us"

So... so you're just admitting you tried to Love and Kindness the abuse away?? You did that??? You think it's BAD to fight back against someone who is BEATING YOU?

Or does that mean, "we never demanded better treatment or justice. We just waited for our abusers to realize the error of their ways, like good victims."

I REALLY hope they get paid enough to go to therapy, this is actual factual abuse apologia. I am once again legitimately concerned for the mental health of these writers

#You can't 'TEACH SOMEONE TO BE LOVELY' out of DOMESTIC ABUSE #Abuse isn't about a person BEING MEAN it's about CONTROL #A conversation about retributive vs rehabilitative justice would be good. Im a fan of rehab justice #BUT NOT IN RESPONSE TO A FAN QUESTIONING A WIFEBEATER GOING TO HEAVEN #At NO POINT has any afterlife EVER been established as a place where rehabilitation happens #Even NOW #CURRENT ARC #ALMOST 10 YEARS LATER #SCREAMING LIKE A CHIMP CONTINUES #WHY HAVE THEY ONLY DONE THIS FOR THE WIFEBEATER #TOM AND CLEAR ALONE!!!!!!! #VIOLENT MEN WHO ASSAULT INNOCENT WOMEN AND CHILDREN #AND SEE ZERO CONSEQUENCES #Tw domestic abuse #Tw child abuse

[tenoart]

Vampire Scott doodle , the most evil guy

#tenoart #my art #mcytblr #afterlife smp #alsmp #vampire scott smajor #vampire smajor #scott smajor #smajor fanart #scott smajor fanart #smajor1995 #dangthatsalongname fanart #dangthatsalongname #trafficblr #vampire scott fanart #tw blood #cw blood #blood

[absolute-flaming-trash]

Pairing: Yandere!Mahito x Reader

SFW

Word Count: 1'129

Warnings: Yandere, Kidnapped reader, Talks about death and the afterlife, Mahito's experiments, Mahito is an asshole (but what else is new).

Additional Notes: Ya girl has Thanatophobia and therefore Reader does as well. Reader also does not believe in an afterlife here.

“Why do you look like that?”

The question made you frown, attention shifting from the dripping water coming off the pipes above your head to Mahito’s crouched form beside your makeshift bed.

“Like what?”

“That,” he said, lifting a hand up and poking your cheek. You could feel the indent of his finger digging into your teeth. “You look like a sad wet dog.”

You were quick to smack his hand away, expression turning annoyed. “I’m fine.”

He tilted his head and you suppressed a sigh. Usually, you were quick to quip back at him with something you thought was clever, like his comment being something every woman wanted to hear - spoken in your typical sarcastic tone.

You weren’t surprised that he’d find that kind of answer underwhelming.

“What is it?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Come on.” He dragged out the last word like a needy child, sprawling himself across your lap so you’d be forced to fully focus on him. “It’s obviously something.”

The sigh you finally gave in response held far more weight than you had wished. He grinned. “Nothing you can do anything about.”

He snorted. “Did I offer to do anything about it?” he poked your cheek again. “Tell me what’s going on in that little mind of yours.”

The slight twitch of your eye that followed betrayed the fact he had you exactly where he wanted. It made you sick just thinking about it.

“I’m just…” You chewed on your bottom lip for a moment as you looked away from him. “I can’t stop thinking about what happens… after.”

You could feel Mahito’s hair grinding between your thigh and the back of his skull as he shifted his head in your lap. “After?”

You gestured vaguely before looking back at him. “After we die.”

He blinked. “That’s it?”

The disappointment in his tone wasn’t surprising. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that the topic was either boring for him, or he just genuinely did not care. Regardless, it clearly wasn’t something that interested him in any form.

“You asked.”

“I did, I just didn’t expect it to be something so uninteresting.” He said as he sat back up, a small pout on his face.

You cringed at the confirmation of your thoughts, but anger quickly overtook the embarrassment.

“And you wonder why I don’t want to talk to you, you just make fun of me.”

“Then stop making it so easy.” He grabbed your jaw before you could turn your face away from him again. “Why are you wasting time on something so dull?”

“I can’t help it,” his lips twitched up at how petulant you sounded for a moment. “How can I after what I saw?”

His eyes widened in almost a madding form of glee as his face twisted to match the expression.

The macabre sight of his experiments was something that was burned in your mind forever. No matter how much you tried to scrub the events from your memory, you could not get the stain out. It was as permanent as those ghastly red stains on the walls and floor of the sewer he had dragged you into. As sick and gut-wrenching as the pleas for help from the ones who had enough mental capacity remaining to beg for death while your own words were caught in your throat.

And yet it made you wonder if that really would be a mercy because, to you, there was no afterlife. There was just… nothing.

And that terrified you almost as much as what Mahito was capable of.

“Awe, did that upset you?” He cooed, running his thumb along your cheek in a gesture that would be sweet if it wasn’t so condescending.

You smacked his hand away, teeth grinding as your anger came back up. “Fuck you.”

His giggles were like nails on a chalkboard. “Later, right now I wanna know if you’re gonna keep being a downer over something that happened days ago.”

“You can’t be serious.” The incredulous words left you before you could stop them because you knew he was. It was written all over him, without shame or reservation.

Sometimes you wondered if it was even possible for him to have any before you were reminded of the fact he was a Curse with each perverted expression of schadenfreude.

Your disgust coiled inside your gut like a parasite.

“So you are.” he let out a puff of air that blew a few of his shorter blue strands away from his face. “They’re going to die no matter what, what does it matter to you if they go to heaven or whatever fairy tale you humans like to believe in?”

“Because I want to know if I’m going to end up the same as them or not.”

There was a shift in his expression once you said that. Gone was the usual childish glee, replaced temporarily with god-awful authenticity.

“You’re not going to.”

He said it with such conviction that it made you laugh for a moment.

“I don’t believe you.”

You decided at that moment that Mahito’s frowns were far worse than any of his smiles could ever be as he looked at you directly in your eyes.

He stayed like that for a little while. Silent. Analyzing.

Then his eyes gleamed. “You’re scared.”

Of course you were. “No.”

“Yes, you are, don’t be silly.” He got in your face again, amused. “Your eyes don’t lie, I can see your soul trembling.

You shoved him away. He let you. “Why are you so afraid of something that’s inevitable?”

“Yes, how foolish of me to fear the end of my own existence and the destruction of everything I was and ever will be.” The words were bitter as you spoke them, eyes narrowing.

He snickered. “There’s no point to birth and death. It’s only your meaningless attachment to life that makes it terrifying, you know.”

You could only scoff, unable to come up with anything to say in response to that. You returned your gaze to the pipes, completely appalled.

When you failed to say anything after several minutes he sighed and crouched in front of you once more. “If it’s any consolation, I’m not going kill you.”

His hands cupped your cheeks as he brought his face about an inch away from yours. “If you somehow died, I still would not let that be the end of you.” His tone shifted into a sincerity that caught you off guard. “Your physical body would be gone for the time being, yes, but I’d still have your soul.” His thumb brushed over your lower lip and he grinned for what felt like the millionth time. “And that’s something I intend to keep around for a very… very long time.”

© absolute-flaming-trash 2023. Do not repost, modify, copy, or claim.

#riri writes #Mahito #Mahito x Reader #JJK #Jujutsu Kaisen #tw yandere #tw death mention #tw afterlife mention #tw kidnapping #tw death #tw thanatophobia #I was having A Moment and this was the result of said moment

[prince-of-calydon]

do you think actaeon's dogs ran through the woods after killing the stag, looking for their master so they could lead him to the kill

all in the hopes that once the deer had been skinned, they could be given some meat, follow their master home, and curl up on the floor while the venison roasted over the flames

#tw animal death #actaeon #greek mythology #greek myth #thinking about being killed by the thing that you love most #iirc palaephatus euhemerised the myth by saying actaeon was (as we might say today) ''eaten out of house and home'' by his dogkeeping hobby #do you think his dogs survived on their own in the woods after he died. #also do dogs go to the underworld like humans do. did actaeon get to see his dogs in the afterlife. crying.

[one-time-i-dreamt]

There was an afterlife but you were reincarnated as a space jellyfish (art by @dimensionsfae).

#dream #afterlife #death tw #reincarnation #jellyfish #dimensionsfae

[10piecechickenmcnugget]

i heard olis fucking enderrail song and now i can’t get it out of my head

here’s the song if you want it as well (tw for glitch effects and slight volume warning at about 28 seconds in)

#mcyt #afterlife smp #afterlife smp fanart #theorionsound #theorionsound fanart #oli theorionsound #oli theorionsound fanart #oli orionsound #orionsound #orionsound fanart #enderian oli #10pieceart #tw glitching #video #image id in alt text

[wardenparker]

Down the Rabbit Hole - Epilogue

Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst​

When Jack accidentally shoots a civilian on a mission he takes on not only the guilt of the man’s death, but inherits his soulmate as well. To you, it’s a dream job with more perks than you can imagine - but for Jack it’s a nightmarish complication. Even more so when he starts to develop feelings.  

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+   Word Count: 7k   Warnings: Family reunion, pregnancy, references to deceased spouse/child, cemetery visit, character death, vague afterlife references. Summary: Jack’s birthday on the ranch is celebrated with a new surprise.  Notes: This story has been so near and dear to my heart, and my absolute love of one sweet cowboy has made it even more precious. A few people have asked and there is always a possibility of coming back to revisit our soulmate pairs, so we’ll just have to see if these two have any more stories to tell in the future. Until then - stay tuned for a preview of the next soulmate story - The Viper’s Bride - later today!

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11 ~ Ch 12 ~ Ch 13 ~ Ch 14 ~ Ch 15 ~ Epilogue

"Grammy! Grampa!" The shout goes up through the house – two little voices in unison as the front door of the ranch house swings open and two sets of stampeding feet come thundering toward the front hall at top speed. Even though you and Jack are moving a bit slower these days, it's nice to see family, especially for an occasion like this one. The fact that all the two of you have to do is show up is something of a fringe benefit. The other half of your entourage is right behind you, as Jackson won't let you or his father carry your bags into the house from the truck. He's greeted with an equal screech of "UNCLE JACK!" and your two grandkids veer slightly off course immediately to launch themselves at their uncle.

“Already replaced.” Jack pouts, rolling his eyes playfully as the kids clamber all over the youngest. “Jane still loves us. Jane? Honey? Where are you?”

"We're not as fun to climb on as Uncle Jack is," you chuckle under your breath as your younger child stands tall for his two nephews to climb all over like a tree in the yard.

"Dad?" The voice from the kitchen is loud enough to be heard over the din without shouting. "Mom? I'll be right out; I'm just putting the finishing touches on the cake!"

Jack chuckles when your face falls, obviously hoping to get here before she had made dessert. “You know it’s coconut cake.” He murmurs, pressing his lips to your leathery cheek. The years have been kind to you, still as gorgeous as the day he had tucked tail and ran from you.

"Of course it is. My baby knows what she's about." That sense of pride in your children is as bright as it was for their first smile, first laugh, first step, first word – first anything. Jackson might be the one running the restaurant with you now, but his older sister is something of a miracle in the kitchen in her own right.

"You made it!" When Jane appears from around the corner a second later, her apron is covered in all the evidence of an enormous project gone very right and there's coconut flakes still under her fingernails, but she's smiling as wide as can be and holding out her arms to hug both of her parents at once. "Happy birthday, Daddy."

“Thank you, honey.” Jack doesn’t deny his birthday anymore, doesn’t insist that it’s not to be celebrated. The parties that have been held have been a joyous reminder of the life he has now, a bittersweet remembrance of what could have been, but the ache has lessened over the years with the annual visits to Daniels Ranch. “Kacey still workin’ or is he around?” He asks.

"I barely got him inside twenty minutes ago, so he should be out of the shower soon." Jane squeezes you both tight and smiles, happy despite being tired. That's motherhood in a nutshell. "His family should be on their way right about now. They didn’t want to overwhelm you by taking over the house right when you arrived but they promised not to be late for dinner."

“Hope he’s ready to drink some whiskey and lose money to me after the kids get to bed.” Jack chuckles, having brought a few bottles from the distillery.

"Kayce's on a budget this year." Your daughter rolls her eyes fondly and laughs. "I don't need him losing the house during the poker party after I just redid the kids' bathroom."

Jack snorts and grins at his eldest child. The long-standing joke about betting the house always amuses him. Jane had found she was soulmates with Aiden’s grandson when they were just nine and ten years old. So every summer they had come back, making sure the young soulmates had a solid foundation and the boy liked ranching better than farming. He now ran Daniels Ranch and the board had been dissolved just a few years ago.

"What can we help with, sweetheart?" Despite Jack teasing you that it's perfectly okay to slow down and even consider retiring now that you've officially passed into senior citizen status, you just can't help yourself. No matter where you are or what you're doing, you have to dig your hands in.

“Nothing.” Jane is just like you, a consummate entertainer. Loving to provide good food and good times for those she loves.

"I don't know how you do it." You shake your head and give Jane another hug just as you hear footfalls on the stairs in the next room. "When you and your brother were that little I was throwing potlucks and pool parties. You've got your great-grandma in you. She could do absolutely anything with perfect style."

“Mom, come on.” She snorts rolling her eyes. “The only reason you did that was because dad put his foot down about you not running yourself ragged.”

"Then somebody ought to tell that husband of yours—" The exaggerated words come with a smile, knowing Kayce can hear you from the stairs. "That he ought to be helping out, too!"

“Sorry.” Kayce rubs a hand through his still damp hair and grins sheepishly. “Had a problem with the calves out in pasture twelve. They keep escaping and turning up in the creek.”

"Don't trouble yourself, honey. We just got in." It's not that you have favourites by any means – but if you could have chosen a son-in-law by hand, you certainly couldn't have chosen anyone kinder or more loving for your only daughter than Kayce. "The boys are already climbing on their uncle, and Janie didn't leave a thing for me to help with. So I have nothing to do but give out hugs, I suppose."

“Well, I can accept one of those.” Kayce holds his arms out and wraps them around you for a hug. “Thank you for coming. It’s so hard to get away. And I know this is tradition.”

"We wouldn't have missed it for the world." Turning around to find where Jack's gone, you smirk when you see that he's snuck into the kitchen to admire his birthday cake and swipe a finger through the frosting bowl.

“Daddy!” Jane huffs, turning around to see where you are looking. “What?” Jack cries, pretending he hadn’t just stolen some frosting. “I had to test it! You know that’s my role.”

"He's worse than the kids," you laugh, shaking your head at him before looking back at Jane and Kayce. "At least let me help set the table? Don't make your Mama feel useless."

Jane narrows her eyes at you for a moment before she sighs, relenting. She knows how it can be to want to help and be told it’s not necessary. All while watching someone run around. “The birthday china.” She gestures towards the large cabinet along the wall.

“The birthday china.” Grateful to not be relegated to the position of old lady who sits in a chair just yet, you hustle into the kitchen while you listen to Jack play with your grandsons out in the other room. What the family calls ‘birthday china’ is actually the beautiful china dinnerware that Jack and Abigail had received as a wedding gift that had been relegated to the house’s cupboards and left behind when Jack left for Louisville so many decades ago. Now it is used consistently, every time there is an adult birthday to celebrate on the ranch.

Jack walks back into the dining room to watch you fuss over the place settings with a fond smile. Wrapping his arm around his daughter and squeezing her against him. He might not be as strong as he had been when she was a little girl, but he is thankful that Ginger has managed to keep all of you spry. “Thank you, honey.” He murmurs softly. “This is just what we needed.”

“You can come up as often as you want, Dad. You know that.” Jane settles against her father comfortably, always having been a bit of a Daddy’s girl and enjoying the comfortable presence of having him close by. “You are retired now. Even if Mom refuses to.”

“I know.” He shakes his head. “Still can’t get her out of that kitchen. It’s her baby now that you two are grown.”

"It was her baby even before we were born," she laughs softly. "That restaurant is my older sibling, and also somehow my brother's baby." The Rabbit-Hole, she always says, is just another member of the family.

“It’s woven into the fabric of our lives and most of your memories.” Jack admits, praying that his children are happy with their lives. He had given them the opportunities to do whatever they wanted and yet each of them had chosen a path that was damn near a family legacy.

"And some day when Jackson finally finds his soulmate, it'll be part of their kids' lives, too." It's more or less an open secret in the family, what Statesman is all about. And because they are so aware of the inner workings, Jackson always likes to say that his soulmate must be one of the agents. Who knows whether or not it's true, but it certainly does speak to his mischievous heart.

“That boy is just as stubborn as I was.” He chuckles, shaking his head as he looks over at where he’s rough housing with the boys.

"If we thought he'd be happy without knowing them, that would be one thing," Jane shrugs with sympathy in her eyes. "But I know he wants to find them. It'll happen eventually." After all, she knows how lucky she is. If Kayce hadn't broken his arm when he was ten, they might not have known they were soulmates until they were much older.

“He would be. He’s a romantic at heart.” Jackson doesn’t say much about it, but Jack knows the boy’s worried. He doubts the kid doesn’t have a soulmate, he’s just sure they’re playing hard to find.

“It’ll happen.” Jane hums confidently, always seeming like she knows something the rest of the family doesn’t. Her Mona Lisa smile always keeps everyone guessing. “Why don’t you get settled, Daddy? Aiden and Sheila should be here soon and we can all tuck in to this big birthday dinner.” She grins at him. “I’m gonna tell Kayce to get the grill going.”

“Shit.” Jack pouts at his daughter. “I’m gunna drink a beer and advise the boy on how to cook those steaks perfectly.” He teases with a wink. He tries not to interfere, but he’ll give his son-in-law a hard time on principle alone.

“Shocking that you would do such a thing,” Jane teases, waving her father off to follow the sound of roughhousing so she can say hello to her little brother. Though adulthood has kept them apart for a few years now, they still talk mostly every day and remain as thick as thieves.

Stopping by the fridge, Jack grabs two beers, knowing Kayce will want one as well. Grilling is horrible thirsty work and it seems only right to do it with a beer in your hand. Stepping outside, he watches as the younger man lights the grill. “Reports from the ranch have been really good.” He offers, striding over to hold out the beer. “Seems like everything’s going alright?” It’s a statement and a question. Giving Kayce an opening to talk about anything that’s on his mind.

“Can’t complain.” The younger man takes the bottle that’s offered to him gratefully and nods, looking out over the back yard of the much-larger ranch house since he finished the last set of renovations. “We just hired on two more permanent sets of hands.” He looks to his father-in-law curiously. “You remember the Pruitt family? They say they’ve been in the valley as long as the Daniels have, but that could just be big talk.”

“Pruitt...Pruitt…” Jack hums as he thinks back, looking over the yards towards the barns and bunkhouses. “Think I remember them. Seems like they were always kinda down on their luck?”

"Long as I've known them, yeah." Methodical in his work, Kayce goes about setting up the grill while the two men talk. He'd always thought of Jack Daniels as an unofficial uncle right up until the day he realized he was in love with Janie, and it had saved him a whole heap of fears that seemingly all of his friends had gone through with their own fathers-in-law. "Anyway, the two boys are just out of high school. They've been helping us during the season for years and gettin' pretty good with the work, so we were glad to take them on full time."

“I trust you made a good decision then.” Kayce has always had a good head on his shoulders and thought about the future. “You’ve done a damn fine job runnin’ this place.”

"We need everything to be running smoothly." The sheepish grin that Kayce flashes his father-in-law is broad. "Three kids is going to be a lot of energy running around this place and until they're old enough to be helping hands themselves, Janie wants to make sure I have the hands I need."

“Three—” Jack stops, a grin immediately blooming across his face and he reaches out to slap Kayce on the back. “Pretty soon you’re gunna have your own baseball team out here.” He chuckles, proud about another grandchild. “Anyone else know yet?”

"Not yet." Puffing up proudly, Kayce leans back on the porch railing and lets his smile take over. "Jane wants to tell everyone at once, but I figured...it's your birthday. Getting to be the first to know is like an extra gift."

“It damn sure is.” Jack beams, nodding in agreement. “‘Though I’ll let her think you didn’t say a word.” He promises, looking off towards the Daniels plot. Where Abigail and Timmy are resting. “Been thinking about things for a while.” Jack admits after a moment of silence between them. “I want to make sure that the trust for the ranch is in yours and Jane’s hands. Completely take it over.”

He wants to say that it isn't necessary. That he doesn't mind working for his wife's father. Because he doesn't – not really. It's a big company and a big responsibility to have the running of the whole thing. But Kayce also knows he can manage it now. After a whole childhood of watching his father run the family farm and being privy to all the ins and outs of Daniels Ranch, he and Jane can handle a big family and an even bigger business. They have the right know how and support system for that. "I'm honored that you trust us with the legacy," is what is says instead, looking to Jack with a nod. "This place is a hell of a responsibility and you know we take that seriously."

“I know you do, which is why you and Jane are the right fit for this place.” Jack huffs. “Something about working for yourself that makes it extra satisfying too. You – you have the spirit of a Daniels.”

"It helps that you were there every summer while I was growing up." Though the visits were never too long they always happened, and the two families had been close for practically Kayce's entire life. Getting visits from his grandparents' good friends had just been a thing that happened and it never seemed odd to him – and then he broke his arm in peewee football and all hell broke loose in their families as people started celebrating the fact that he'd have a scar from the surgery to fix it.

“It took a long time to be able to come back here. Your granddaddy’s sister used to love this place.” Of course Kayce knows the family history and respects it. “Figure that same blood runs through your veins as well. It calls to this place, and I’ve never had a doubt in my mind you were the perfect match for my little girl.”

"That little girl is a mischievous woman now." Moving while he talks means Kayce is pulling steaks from the cooler and counting things out to make sure he has enough of all the right cuts for the adults before he starts pulling out burger patties for the kids. "She's dead set on playing matchmaker for her brother. I keep telling her it'll happen when it's meant to."

“She just wants to see him happy.” Jack can’t blame her. She’s so settled in and focused on her life and the joy that she obtains from it, it’s not hard to want that for her little brother. “Plus, she likes to meddle. Too much like her mama.” He chuckles, turning and admiring you through the glass.

"Nothing wrong with that." After all, Jane's similarities to her mother were obvious just as easily as looking at her. "And I think...with being expecting again and all...she's enjoying the domesticity of the thing. First trimester's been a hell of a lot easier this time than with the boys, which has her thinking it might be a girl."

“A little girl.” Jack smiles and chuckles. “Oh I can’t wait to spoil her then.” He enjoyed having a little girl, and he knows Kayce will too.

“We won’t know for sure for a few weeks.” It doesn’t matter though; he knows he’ll love any child that he and Jane welcome into their family. “If it is, she’ll have two very protective brothers looking out for her.”

“Yes she will.” As rough as the boys could be, they were equally protective of each other. He has no doubt that would extend to another sibling. “She’ll hate it when she’s older.”

“She might,” Kayce admits with a laugh. “But her mama and I sure won’t.”

Jack can’t deny that, humming happily as he watches the meat sizzle on the grill. Life is damn good, especially for a man who never envisioned having this at one point in his life.

"You boys plotting the crime of the century out here?" When you stick your head outside to see how things are moving along, it's obvious that Jack and Kayce are just enjoying the afternoon together in peace, something that you're pleased to see every single time. "Kayce, your parents just got here, honey. Grandparents are on the way, they said."

“Yes ma’am, thank you.” Kayce nods towards you and then closes the lid on the grill. “We might as well go say hi. It’ll be a while.”

"Known the boy since he was in diapers, and he still calls me ma'am." You shake your head as Kayce walks past you into the house and hold your hand out to Jack. "Everything going well?"

“Everything’s coming up roses, sugar.” Jack hums, moving over to take your hand and pull you into his arms for a kiss. “Have I told you today that I love you?”

"Only twice." Decades later, you still melt a little every time Jack holds you tight. But it's still always so easy to tease him. "You're slipping a little, honey."

“Damn, I’ll have to tell you again.” He presses his lips to yours gently. “I love you, sugar. I wouldn’t have this life without you. I wouldn’t be here right now if it weren’t for you.”

"Happy birthday, Jack." Every year it got a little easier, until the bittersweet memories turned nostalgic and the day was no longer one to dread. Now it's a day for smiles and cake, for presents and playing with the kids – and then grandkids. It's a day that he's happy to wake up on instead of dreading. "I love you. So much."

“I love you too, sugar.” Jack promises, smiling at you. “And you’re gonna love our present today. It’s something for both of us.”

"Oh yeah?" You laugh a little, nudging your nose against his. "Did they replace the sleeper sofa with a great big, fluffy mattress for us?"

Jack snorts, shrugging. “I don’t know, that sleeper sofa is comfortable. And I’m not letting our daughter try to take it again.”

"I'm going to remind you that you said it was comfortable when you back hurts in the morning." It's just a little tease, but you can't help it. Enough years and decades with Jack and the joy in being together still hasn't faded from your relationship.

“I don’t think I’ll be complaining this time.” Jack predicts with a grin. “Only complaint you’ll get out of me is if she can’t have coffee in the house anymore.”

It takes a second, but your head tilts curiously just in time for the shit eating grin to spread across Jack's face. "No?" You're beaming right along with him in no time. "Number three? Really?"

“Just told me.” Jack nods. “He’s about to puff up out of his chest he’s a proud as a peacock.” He chuckles, knowing he had been just a proud when you were pregnant with Jane and Jackson.

"Are we the last or the first to find out?" Jane and Kayce have always been so proud of their family each time it's grown, you can't imagine that they wouldn't make a very big deal about letting people know. Kayce must have been busting at the seams to tell someone.

“The first.” Jack admits. “Kayce told me it’s because it’s my birthday.”

That earns him an amused giggle from you, and you shake your head fondly. "Granddaddy's privilege, that's what that is. Come on, love. Your daughter wants to know what else you want to do this week but hang around the house with the boys."

“Do you want to go with me to visit them?” Jack always asks. Even now. Never wanting you to feel uncomfortable, so it’s always a question. You’ve always come with him, but he won’t be upset if you wanted to stay and visit with Jane and the kids this time.

"Of course I do." He always asks, and your answer is always the same. "I've got to keep her updated on all the things you leave out of your stories." The gentle smile on your lips tips upward, and you lean forward to press your forward against his. "I know she's up there with Timmy and Grandma Jane and my parents looking down on us, but I still only get to talk to her once a year. It's tradition."

“It is tradition.” Jack smiles softly. “I want to be buried here.” He admits. “With you, if you want it. Surrounded by my soulmates.”

"I guess I always assumed you would be." In fact, no other alternative had ever really occurred to you. Not in all the years that have gone by. "It's your whole family up there. I always figured we would join them eventually."

“I didn’t know if you’d want that.” Jack won’t disrespect your own wishes. You have a say in this too.

Your fingers lace through his as easily as they did the very first time, and you let that soft smile warm through you. "I want to be with you. In this life and for whatever happens next."

“Whatever happens next.” The commotion inside causes him to turn towards the door and he grins. “Looks like Aiden and Sheila are here. Want to go say howdy?”

"We better, before Jane comes to get us." There's time to steal a quick kiss, but you're still smiling excitedly. "If she's waiting to tell everybody all at once, she'll be itching to give the news as soon as she can."

“Remember to act surprised.” Jack smacks your ass playfully as he guides you towards the door. “And I still want some birthday sex later on.”

He manages to get a little chirp of surprise out of you, and you just laugh. "Of course, cowboy."

“Damn straight.” Re-entering the house to join the chaos, hugs and back slaps are exchanged. Aiden’s claims that Jack’s getting old are countered by good natured ribbing about how only one of them is a great-grandparent. A testimony to how far Jack had come in his journey to healing from the loss of Abigail and Timmy.

You help Jane pass drinks around, still an entertainer at heart, and pretty soon even the kids have settled a little. "So, of course we know that everybody is here for Dad's birthday dinner," she beams at her assembled family, smile burning even brighter when you go to sit next to Jack and Kayce takes your place by her side. "But we just wanted to say thank you for coming and...give everyone a little bit of news."

Jack manages to school his expression to look just as expectant as everyone else around the table. “What’s goin’ on honey.”

The boys look positively bored, but Jane smiles at her young sons and beams out at the rest of her family. "Well..." She blows out a breath and squeezes her soulmate's hand. "In about seven and a half months...Jamie and Carter are going to be big brothers."

The squeals of happiness and gawfs of surprise are loud, making it a rush to jump up and hug Jane and shake Kayce’s hand or slap him on the back. The comedy of the scene is your two young grandsons clamoring to get to their mother as soon as possible, with five-year-old Jamie placing both hands on Jane's belly and informing his three-year-old little brother in his wisest tone possible that the baby can hear everything as long as you talk right at Mommy's belly button.

"At least he's chosen that as the speaker and not something else," you joke, going to put your arms around Jane and give her a tight hug. "Congratulations, Janie. You must be completely over the moon, huh?"

“Excited and wondering what the heck we were thinking.” Language is censored for the boys, considering Jamie had informed the youngest that ‘son of a bitch’ was the pain when you hurt your hand.

“You were thinking how much you love the baby phase,” you stifle a laugh so the boys don’t overhear. “They’re adorable before they learn ‘no’.”

“That word is going to be banned.” She rolls her eyes and laughs, still beaming as her hand caresses her stomach.

“I’m going to take you out for a little pampering while I’m here,” you promise her, remembering how much work two little ones was. She’ll be in it deep with three. “Shopping, eating out, even a pedicure while you can still see your toes. Mom and daughter day. What do you say?”

“That sounds wonderful.” Jane would never suggest that you leave Kentucky, the restaurant still your baby, but sometimes a girl just needs her mom. Especially when she’s pregnant.

“A whole day. Your Dad and brother can hang back with the boys or help Kayce out on the ranch.” Laying a kiss in her hair, you end up sniffling back a few proud tears. “You’re an amazing mama, Janie. I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you, mom.” Jane hugs you again. “I will take that as the highest of compliments coming from you. You set the bar very high.”

“We come from a long line of good moms. We got lucky that way.” Pressing a kiss to her hair, you step back before you can get too emotional, and wipe an errant drop of water from your cheek. “Gettin’ sentimental in my old age,” you joke. Everyone is well aware that you’ve always been sentimental.

“I want you and dad to come out when the baby’s due.” Jane automatically requests, just like you have been present for the others. She knows it’s a given, but you also don’t push and want her to call the shots.

“If you want us there, consider it done.” You hadn’t missed the births of your first two grandchildren and you certainly wouldn’t miss the third.

“I do.” Jane grins. “I think this might be the last one, from us anyway.”

“And three is a wonderful number. You’ll always be busy and you’ll have a house full of love for a very long time to come.” The way she just radiates happiness doesn’t make the wheels turning in her mind, though. You’re her mother. You taught those wheels which direction to move in. “But go easy on your brother, okay honey? He’s doing amazingly at the restaurant and he’s happy there.”

“I won’t say a word.” She promises. “I’m just worried about him.”

“I know, honey.” Spending half your lifetime always worried about your children because you love them means you have complete sympathy for that. “But he’ll find who he wants to be with. Soulmate or otherwise.”

“You’re right. I know.” Jane looks over at where Jackson is talking to Kayce’s grandparents and smiles. “As long as he’s happy.”

******

It’s that evening when you park the truck on the hill on the east side of the property, absorbing the last of the August sunshine as you both step out of the cab to visit Abigail and Timmy. It’s almost like going to see an old friend after so many years of this, and you still take Jack’s hand in yours to give it a supportive squeeze before stepping up to the matching headstones.

There is now a bench off to the side, allowing for a lengthier visit, or for Jack to sit down if his back is sore. “Hey, sweetheart.” Jack smiles as he sees how neatly Kayce has kept the family plot. He and Jane had taken over the flower gardens planted around the two headstones since Aiden wasn’t able to come out as often as he had when he was a younger man. “Told you that we’d be back.”

He says it every time, as though Abigail was there raising an eyebrow in surprise to see him, and you always chuckle a little. “Brought you a daisy,” you murmur as you put the flower down - your own tradition that has never faltered. “And some news.”

“Of course you’re gunna tell on me.” Jack teases, although he’s very aware of what news she’s bringing. “Timmy, you’re bein’ good for your momma, aren’t ya?” He asks, his heart aching like a tiny little arrow pierced it at the thought of his first baby boy.

Sometimes over the years, you could have sworn that a breeze came at just the right time to be an answer, or that you felt a flash of cold even in the August heat. Sometimes you could have bet your life on hearing a faraway voice. But it’s always a comfort to be here for your visit. “Of course he is,” you nod, squeezing Jack’s hand.

“I know.” Jack murmurs softly. “Wish I coulda seen what kind of man he woulda become.”

“He’d be thick as thieves with his brother and sister, and a mountain for his nephews to climb on, just like Jackson.” Of course Timmy would be older by now – outgrown the nickname and become Tim or Timothy – but you can’t help picturing him the same age as your own two kids.

“Yes he would have.” Jack chuckles and closes his eyes, imagining it as he holds your hand.

"Not a whole lot has changed this year, Abby." You've taken to speaking to Abigail so conversationally that sometimes you slip a little and call her Abby like an old friend. "But Janie just let the family know that she's expecting again. It'll be all any of us talk about for the next seven months."

“We’re getting older too.” Jack admits, feeling his age today for some reason. He’s lived twice the years without his first wife and son than he had with Abby. “Slower. You’d laugh at my groans getting up.”

"He sounds like a creaky mattress," you tease, imagining that you can hear the sound of a laugh in the wind.

“It’s what happens when you put my body through the rigors of being an agent for so long.” Jack rolls his eyes but he’s grinning at you. “Still think both of you would be given me hell if you knew one another.”

"I have no doubt." Lifting your connected hands, you press a kiss to Jack's cracked knuckles. There’s more time spent, laughter shared and small snippets of life from the Statesman grounds. Nearly an hour passes before you say your goodbyes and Jack leads you back to the truck.

"Gets harder to get into this thing every year," you laugh, letting your frustration at having to hoist yourself into the tall truck roll off your shoulders instead of getting upset about it. Approaching old age is a privilege that you don't take lightly.

“We might have to get one of those trucks with the fold down steps.” Jack snorts, smirking at you.

“Or convince our daughter to have one vehicle on the ranch that is less than five feet off the damn ground,” you huff good-naturedly. “I might never have been an agent, but I’ve still done a number on my knees.”

“All that runnin’ around in the kitchen.” Jack pats your knee fondly and looks at you before he starts the truck up. “I love you, sugar.”

“I love you, too, honey.” It’s not as easy as it used to be to lean over and give him a kiss, but you still manage it. “Let’s go back home and see the kids.”

“Yes ma’am.” He smiles softly and puts the truck in gear after he starts it. “Been thinking about maybe sneaking you off to the old foreman’s cabin.” Jack hums playfully. “Since it’s empty now.”

“Oh yeah?” The suggestion makes you chuckle, so glad that the attraction between you has never waned. “We could do that.”

“Yeah.” He might not be able to set a pace that completely wrecks you or pushes your – no longer needed – IUD out of place, be he can still make you shake in pleasure.

You hum, watching him as he drives back down the hill toward the main house. "I guess I know what we're doing tomorrow then."

“Still not too old to chase you around the bedroom.” Jack teases, winking at you playfully. His dark hair is nearly white and his craggy wrinkles are much deeper than they had been when you met, but he’s still the same cowboy.

Kissing the back of his hand again, you sit back in your seat and chuckle softly. "I sure as hell hope not. Though I don't know how fast I'm up to running these days anyway."

“It’s been a good day.” The setting sun off to the west is always a view he has loved, going back to when he was just a little thing running around this land. “The perfect birthday.”

"You say that every year." With varying degrees of sarcasm at certain times, of course. But today he seems as sincere as ever. And he's right – at least this time. It really has been a fairly perfect day.

“I mean it to.” He insists. “I’m a blessed man, sugar.”

"You're just excited to have a new grandbaby," you tease, giving his hand a squeeze. Of course you believe him - that he loves his life and feels blessed by it - but you also know for damn sure that a good part of his giddiness comes from that good news. As it should. Being a grandparent agrees with Jack.

“Of course I’m excited to have a new grandbaby.” Jack huffs. “I never expected to have a baby for the longest time, let along three grandbabies. Especially not with another soulmate. I’m damn blessed by you.”

That softens you and you lean against Jack's shoulder as he drives. "I love you, too, honey."

The silence between you is soft, welcomed like a warm blanket. So much time together had been spent that he can almost hear your thoughts. “When we find out what they are having, I want to see what kind of specialty dessert you’re gonna make for the restaurant.” Every one of the kids and grandkids have their own dessert that’s featured during their birthday month.

"Janie said she's been craving onions." Both of you chuckle as he pulls the truck into the driveway of the main house. "So I don't know if it will be a dessert this time. Maybe a tart or an onion tarte tatin."

“Interesting.” Jack chuckles. “If it’s a little girl, she’s gonna be a spitfire.”

"Because would be so unusual for a Daniels." The expression on your face is nothing short of amused. All of you are well aware that spitfire is a description that could apply to anyone in your family.

“Absolutely.” He agrees. “We’re just so…boring.” His eyes slide over to watch your reaction. “No passion.”

"None." You shake your head as solemnly as you can manage, barely keeping your face schooled into something serious. "We are a complete blank canvas. No emotions or opinions whatsoever."

“That’s us.” His chuckles can’t be contained now, rolling out freely as both of you describe everything the Daniels family is not.

"Come on, my love." Unbuckling your seatbelt and stretching, you lean over the center console again to kiss him. "I want to cuddle up with my passionless husband and watch a movie with our kids before bed."

“Sounds like the perfect ending to the best day.” Jack hums, counting his blessings for how lucky he is.

******

In the years since Jack had died, it hadn't made any sense to stay in Louisville. Working the line – or even front of house – at the restaurant was too physical to be sustainable for you and the place was running brilliantly in Jackson's capable hands. It turned out that his soulmate really was a Statesman agent, and you had watched your son take on much the same life that you had lived happily, with his husband.

Retirement had given you options, of course, but you hadn't wanted to be apart from Jack, so you had readily become a full-time grandma on the ranch in Montana. Every day saw another trip to the cemetery on the hill and spending time with your growing grandchildren. Six years went by almost in the blink of an eye, except for the ache of missing your soulmate. That never seemed to dissipate no matter how many wonderful memories you held on to. It lived in your heart each day to be swallowed down like a bittersweet pill, until the day that you had laid down for an afternoon nap and closed your eyes for the very last time.

“Hello sugar.” Jack’s smile is brilliant, young. The lines old age had given him are smooth, the dark spots on his skin clear, his stooped posture straight as he stands in front of you, looking just as hale and hearty as the day he had met you. Holding out his hand, he helps you up from the bed and pulls you into his arms. “I have missed you. So much, but I’ve been watchin’ over you.”

“Jack.” When you can practically jump up out of the bed and into his arms, there is no question of what’s happened. The moment holds only the barest pain, knowing what you’re leaving behind, but the joy you feel at being reunited with Jack completely outweighs it. “Honey, I missed you.”

“I was with you every step of the way.” Jack promises, right before he presses his lips to yours in a kiss that has been sorely missed in the past six years. Watching you and ghosting a kiss over your skin isn’t the same as you knowing it’s him.

“What happens now?” If you had ever worried that you would feel fear in this moment, that worry is soothed instantly by the fact that it’s Jack here to show you what comes next. Or maybe this is all it is, and kissing him really is your own private heaven like you always said.

“Well…sugar, there’s someone that wants to meet you.” Jack murmurs, pulling away and looking behind him with an equally brilliant smile.

“Finally.” A sweet, soft voice has a hint of a happy giggle in it. Abigail steps forward, looking beautiful and healthy although she is not rounded with child. She had appeared to Jack as she had been before the pregnancy. “I have so much to thank you for.”

“Abigail!” There is no question of who this is – you had seen so many pictures of her in your life that you recognize her as an old friend as the two of you fall into a deep embrace. “I didn’t think— maybe I should have— I’m so glad to finally meet you.” Though you can feel sobs shake you a little, there is no sadness. It’s more of a powerful wave of relief that washes over you in this moment.

“I wanted to come. I needed to make sure you know how much I appreciate you.” There’s no jealousy, no bitterness that you spent more time with Jack than she had. There is nothing but joy and elation at finally greeting the woman who has shown her so much kindness and respect. Abigail pulls back and smiles at you while Jack watches the exchange.

“I don’t know what to say,” you admit, feeling a little overwhelmed by the moment. Without fear, you’re left to simply adjust to whatever this next step is. “I’m just glad it’s the two of you here.”

Nodding, she steps back and allows Jack to take your hand. “Sugar, we will always be here.” He promises, and points with his other hand to the side. “And we can always watch over the kids and grandkids.”

You nod, taking Jack’s hand firmly in yours before reaching for Abigail with your other. Though you had never expected her to come, it’s an enormous comfort that she’s here. “I’m ready.”

Jack grins at you and winks. “Ready to go down another rabbit hole with me, sugar?” He asks, overjoyed that he gets to spend eternity with both you and Abigail. His soulmates.

“As long as I get to be with you, we can go anywhere you like.” It’s what you hoped for, when you thought of this moment, and the fact that it’s come true means you’re ready for anything.

“Then let’s get this train a movin’.” Jack squeezes your hand. “Heaven awaits.”

______ Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @hardc0rehaylz @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide​ @elegantduckturtle  ​

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My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Jack Daniels #Jack Daniels x reader #Jack Daniels x you #Jack Daniels x female reader #Jack Daniels x f!reader #Jack 'Whiskey' Daniels #Agent Whiskey #Kingsman Golden Circle #tw death #afterlife