#Ways To Honor The Deceased

[shaadiwish]

Pay Your Respects And Honor Passed Loved Ones At Your Wedding In These Endearing Ways. Stay Tuned To ShaadiWish For Latest Trends And Ideas.

[here-comes-the-moose]

So people were talking about how the Bad Batch grieved Tech and how it wasn’t overly emotional and whatnot, but I didn’t see anything wrong with it and I think now I know why:

The Bad Batch grieve like us Catholics.

[damconcha]

now that it’s that time of the year again, white people fuck off and leave día de los muertos alone

[itsalwaysdark]

my tags on that went on for so long i had to go back and edit them to fit tag limit and i still had to delete a bunch of them. Its the autism it literally is

[gingerylangylang1979]

Happy Mother’s Day (maybe?)

Happy Mother’s Day to any moms. To everyone else or those this day may be hard for (including those with a deceased mother, a toxic mother, those who don’t want kids, those who lost a kid, those incapable of having a kid) be strong on the day every clueless man is going to say “Happy Mother’s Day” to you and look at you like a bitch when you aren’t overjoyed that they acknowledged a woman on the one day they think saying three words to any random woman will atone for the patriarchy. And then they will tell you to smile.

And no, this is not a good way to try to get my phone number… dreading being social today but refuse to hide.

[entitled-fangirl]

Bravery.

Cregan Stark x Strong!reader; Aemond x forced betrothed!reader

Summary: Aemond drags Y/n Strong alongside him on his journey to appease the great Lord Stark. Seems she's more loyal to her deceased father and brother than she cares to admit.

Warnings: cursing, manipulation, talks of death

Masterlist

.........................................

"You're a fucking fool, Aemond," she sneered at him.

"You don't think my conscience speaks that enough?!" He exclaimed. "I made a mistake, but my love, I did not kill my brother's heir. That was Rhaenyra's choice. Not mine."

"You killed one of hers!" She argued. 

"I did not pay men to become traitors to the crown," he growled.

"You do not have to," she sneered lowly. "You have the greatest dragon alive in your claws. You're like a snake the way you spit venom on everything you touch!"

Silence filled the room, the two staring at one another in full contemplation of what had just been said.

"Aemond, I-"

"ENOUGH!" He yelled, throwing his hands up. He took a breath and continued. "I have given everything to my mother and brother. My grandsire. This kingdom. And I get nothing."

"True service is doing so without expecting return."

"I expect recognition for sacrifice." Aemond glared.

"And what of your brother's sacrifice for the kingdom? His own heir?" When his jaw ticked, she continued. "And do not think for a moment that Rhaenyra has not sacrificed, because she knows it better than you. Better than anyone."

"Better than my mother?" He dared to ask.

Her mouth opened to combat him, but she had nothing so her mouth closed again.

"I'm tired of sacrifices," he explained.

"Do you believe that your family is the only one? What of the scattered high lords throughout the kingdom? What of me?"

"What of you?" He asked, as if the thought was ridiculous.

Her jaw dropped a bit in shock. "You don't…" She then scoffed, the shock turning to anger. "You don't think I sacrifice? My duty is my sacrifice."

"Oh, and mine is not?" He asked. 

"If this is your duty, then you're piss poor at doing it!"

Something flashed in his eye, the blue somehow holding red to it, as if that's all he could see. "Get out." His voice was low, clearly a final warning to her. 

She took that as it was, going to leave. She paused in the doorway, "We leave on the morr-"

"Go."

…

With the recent happenings, Aegon had almost reconsidered sending the two to the North to reason with Lord Cregan Stark. The thought had been questioned, as well as the girl's loyalty. But all in all, what family did she have but her older brother Larys who had taken her under his wing after the mysterious death of their father and brother? They couldn't ever see the girl daring to side with her bastard nephews. The idea was ridiculous. The Strong house under Larys refused to claim the boys, and so was she expected to.

So when they arrived in Winterfell, Cregan was surprised. 

He knew they were coming. They had said so moons ago, but that was before the attacks, before Jace's visit, and he had figured it would be put aside until matters grew better.

As if war ever got better.

"My prince," the stone-faced lord greeted. "My Lady Strong."

"I thank you for your hospitality, Lord Stark," Aemond smirked. "The Crown thanks you."

Cregan gave a small nod. "Yes. I see." His eyes dart to Y/n, and back to Aemond. "Please rest and we'll discuss in the morn-"

"-Let's discuss now," Aemond remarked, dragging his betrothed along and moving past the Lord.

Cregan's eyes watched the two walk by. Though he already knew his loyalty was to the blood oath he made to Jacaerys, he would enjoy watching the Hightower squirm for his honor.

…

"And what might appease you then?" Aemond asked. 

"And what could the crown have that I would want?" Cregan countered. 

"Gold, honor, protection… dragons," he listed.

"I have gold, honor, and though I have no dragons, I hold a direwolf that does more than enough protection." Cregan leaned back in his chair. "You are asking a Stark to go back on an oath made by my father. We do not do so easily."

"Tell me what you want then," Aemond reasoned.

"It will take some time to figure that out, I'm afraid."

"That is the one thing I cannot give you. We're running out of time."

Cregan gives a curt nod, then completely turns his attention to Y/n, "My lady, surely some sustenance would do you well. You've traveled far."

Her eyes snapped to him, now realizing that he was indeed talking to her. "Do not fret over me, my lord. I am completely content."

Aemond smirked, reaching beside him to grab at the back of her neck. "Indeed. Don't worry over her. Let us focus on our business here." He leaned towards her, "To bed with you. The morning will come sooner than expected."

Y/n stood, giving Cregan one last look before quietly excusing herself.

The door closed behind her and Aemond gave a sigh. "Women are life's greatest pain."

"Women are images of the Mother," Cregan snapped harshly. There would be no talk like this in his halls. "That is your religion, is it not?"

"Rather she be like the Maiden," Aemond retorted.

Cregan chewed on his bottom lip to keep his thoughts straight. "And what would you wish to be, my prince? What beacon do you follow?"

"The Father," He answered without thought. "I follow the Father."

The northern man stood with a loud creak from his large chair and began to lightly pace the room. "Justice is a narrow slope. Sometimes you become so focused on it for others that you become the judged."

"Meaning what?" Aemond's eye narrowed. 

Cregan shrugged, as if he didn't mean anything by it, though he clearly did. "Meaning… we all have our faults, my prince. If I lived for justice and justice alone, I'd find myself paying for every crime I committed."

"Don't Starks live by honor?" 

Cregan's lip turned upwards. "Aye. But those do not compare. Not in the slightest."

Aemond picked at his nails, his hands on the table. "How so, Stark?"

He stopped and considered the prince's question- more… how to answer it without saying all of his thoughts. "Judgment can easily turn to anger. Honor upholds hope over anything else."

"You can't compare something so complex as if they're simple things like night and day," Aemond taunted. "You cannot be all honor, for you'll be the one ruled, and your people will stomp you into the ground. Judgment keeps peace-"

"-At what cost?" Cregan countered, his head tilted as he dared to argue with the man.

Aemond's jaw ticked, and Cregan quickly realized that he may have said the wrong thing. The prince's head tilted down for a moment, then back up as he decided his words. "You believe Rhaenyra has honor?" He asked, pure venom in his tone, though his metaphorical fangs weren't showing.

Stark paused. "It doesn't matter what I think. Does it?"

Aemond's lips turned up into an amused smirk. "So stuck in your idea of honor that you won't do what's best for your people?" His arm waved dramatically. "A dragon lies outside your castle and still it does nothing to your 'honor'?"

"I won't go back on my father's word. That is my answer to you."

Aemond slammed his fists onto the table and stood with a glare that could melt the Wall. "And your answer is death!"

Cregan met his glare with one of his own. "So be it."

…

He let Aemond stay that night against his better judgment. He should have made him leave, but the thought of dragging the Lady Strong into their fight cause an ache in him. 

The next morning, he stood on the balcony overlooking the courtyard. He had a lot on his mind, and no way to fix them.

"Jace's promise to you must have been grand," a voice piped up from behind him.

Cregan turned to see Y/n standing there with a polite smile to her. He felt himself grinning. "More of mine to him, my lady. He'll accomplish great things for the Realm."

She hummed. If she caught onto his meaning, she didn't voice it. "Tell me about him. My nephew Jace."

Cregan's face fell a bit. "My lady-"

"-Lord Stark," she said with a knowing look. "I only meant that I will be married to Aemond soon, and therefore Jace will soon be my nephew. I don't care about titles. I care about Jace."

He let out a breath and ran a hand through his hair. "The prince is… honest. And kind. And quite fair. Should he be named the successor, then I hold no fears for the Realm."

"He seems to be like his father," she quipped. "Harwin was… His very essence was beautiful. I wish I remembered him more."

Cregan ran his tongue across his teeth. He knew that Jace was no Velaryon as well, but he found himself not caring. Jace was more than the lack of royal blood that ran through him.

"Aegon holds the crown, though," she admitted heavily as if the very thought of it was horrid to her.

Cregan shuffled his weight to his other foot. "Tell me. Why are you marrying such a fool of a man?"

"Aemond is," she hesitated, realizing there was no point in defending something that has no defense. "It wasn't by choice."

"Stay in Winterfell."

Her head shot up, her wide eyes meeting his confident ones. "No."

His nose twitched. "Why not?"

"I can't. He'll have my head. And… and Rhaenyra would never accept me-"

"-You don't know that."

She sniffled and studied him. "What you do mean?"

Cregan cleared his throat as he prepared to finally say the thing he'd been holding back. "Jace spoke of your kindness. From when they visited King's Landing just before the death of the King. You… you welcomed them more than his own family."

He was right in that. She had. And she had scolded and fought with Aemond endlessly that night about it after helping clean Luke's bloody nose and Jace's split knuckles. She shifted uncomfortably, "I suppose you're right."

"What I mean by all this is," he paused and heaved a sigh. "If you and Jace are truly made of the same blood as I know you are, then you cannot idly sit by while your brother's sons' inheritances are taken."

The thought brought back the tears from her fight with Aemond not a day ago. 

Aemond had killed Harwin's boy. 

How could she sit by and let herself be married to such a man?

"Larys is like a spider," she whispered, unsure if Cregan even heard it. "You crawl into his web and… and you only realize the dangers of it when your hands are tied."

Cregan gave a tiny nod.

"I'm tired of his web. I may be tied to Aemond forever if I do this."

"Then stay here. I'll get you to Dragonstone."

"Those are too high of promises. Even for a Stark."

Cregan's shoulders moved back. "Starks do not forget an oath."

"What of Vhagar?"

"What of Vhagar?" He retaliated. "She's useless here in the cold. And to unleash an attack on the North is to seal the victor of this war before it truly begins."

She let out a small scoff and threw up her hands. "You Starks and your bravery. Do you think that's what makes a man? Bravery? Bravery only makes a man dead."

"Then I'll die contently," he calmly answered. His head tilted. "Will you?"

Her eyes shifted down to the northernman's lips, noticing the small quirk to them as if the strongforce of a man was somehow holding back a smile. 

"I die regardless. Might as well be for my brother's sons."

....................................

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[khaire-traveler]

🪽 Subtle Hermes Worship 📨

Keeping a journal of letters addressed to Hermes; you can also use a code name for him, such as "diary", if needed

Keeping a picture of him in your wallet

Collecting coins and shiny objects

Writing letters to friends or loved ones who live far away

Writing stories and poems

Having imagery of feathers, wings, turtles, or hares around (feathers and wings are especially good in a Christian household)

Having rabbit, turtle, sheep, hawk, or ram stuffed animals

Wearing jewelry that reminds you of him; a caduceus necklace is extremely easy to find online and is often associated with other things but is still a major symbol of Hermes

Having a candle that reminds you of him (no altar needed)

Dedicating any morning drinks to him (coffee, tea, energy drinks, etc.)

Participating in any sport

Making a list of jokes or quotes that make you laugh

Making a list of good memories

Watching comedians, live or online

Engaging in activities that bring you joy

Spending time with loved ones

Spending time with pets and bonding with them

Volunteering at a homeless or animal shelter

Honoring deceased loved ones, including pets

"Borrowing" things from big corporations

Setting money aside to save if/when possible

Exploring new places you've never been

Supporting small businesses

Taking a walk

Learning non-obvious forms of divination (cartomancy, shufflomancy, pyromancy, etc.)

Keeping a dream journal

Exercising if able; get some movement throughout the day

Creating something with your hands or imagination (writing, drawing, carving, something inventive and creative)

Donating items you no longer need

Buying a meal for someone who needs one

Showing kindness towards your fellow human

Making a list of things that made you happy throughout the day and that you're looking forward to

Carrying a good luck charm on you; keep a lucky coin

Collecting souvenirs from new places, even just the next town over

If you have a car or bike, show it some love

Be kind to animals; feed neighborhood dogs, cats, birds, etc.

Volunteer at an animal shelter or farm; volunteer at a homeless shelter

-

May add more later! This is my list of discreet ways to worship Hermes, so far. Please enjoy, and take care! 🧡

Link to Subtle Worship Master list

[demigod-shenanigans]

I hear your “Leo and Jason’s graves are next to each other”-headcanon and I raise you the fact that while we’re not actually sure how demigod graves work in canon, it’s established in one of the companion books that there’s a library hallway in New Rome that has the names of deceased heroes engraved in paving stones as a way to remember and honor them.

In my head, Leo was the first Greek demigod to ever have his name carved into one of the paving stones when he was declared dead after the war with Gaia. There are some protests because he did technically fire on New Rome at one point, but they’re ultimately overruled by the fact that he died protecting the world and without him, New Rome would have ceased to exist. (There’s also some incredible symbolic importance in the fact that the child who died to save them all had two best friends—one Greek and one Roman. The lost trio forming was what kicked off the mending of the Greek and Roman pantheon in many ways. They were the first bridge. Everything began and ended with them.)

There’s discussions on whether to remove the paving stone after Leo returns alive, but Reyna and Frank shut them down, because he may have come back to life, but he did still die a hero, and they should honor that very real sacrifice he made.

When Jason dies—one of the many lives lost in the war against the Emperors—Reyna and Frank decide to place Jason’s paving stone next to Leo’s. It’s not even a discussion. They just know that’s where it’s supposed to go.

Fire and storm, side by side, in life and in death.

[redfoxwritesstuff]

AN: We've made it 10 days! Good news, unlike some people, I don't have any angst for you... because I don't lick doorknobs.

Summary: You're beyond floored when Alastor asked you to allow him the honor of courting you. You were far from sure as to what that entailed however, with a powerful overlord asking for your time and another lurking in the distance, her thumbs up and smile wide- your back was against a wall. Though you had no idea what to expect from courtship with Alastor, what came with your first outing left you eager to come back for more.

CW: Semi public sex, pool sex, sex on the first date, multiple orgasms, female receiving oral, p in v sex

Your heels clicked against the cool tile in the halls, the sound mixing with Alastor’s making a new music you were only beginning to become familiar with. His long fingers rested across your eyes, hands stacked to keep you wrapped in his arms, blinded by his fingers. 

Your heart beat wildly in your chest as you walked, trusting Alastor to lead the way. Could Alastor hear how it joined the music of your steps? Or was that part of the song of trust for you alone? Letting someone lead you blindfolded anywhere took a lot of trust, especially in hell. 

That was even more so true when the person leading you was The Radio Demon, Alastor. You and he hadn’t known eachother a great long time, not really in the grand timeline of hell, but he had caught your eye the day you landed, freshly deceased and judged unworthy of crossing through the gates of heaven. 

It had been a few years since then and you couldn’t begin to say when you caught his attention. The two of you seemed to orbit each other, social circles brushing but only just. He existed just on the outside of your circle, an ever present looming red mark that demanded your attention every time he caught your eye but never seeming to properly cross into your circle. 

You were a frequent flyer in Cannibal Town and considered Rosie to be as close to a friend as one could call the overlord that owned your soul. She was kind and always so eager to listen to your stories of a life spent on island beaches, sun’s rays warming your skin as your thick hair danced in the salty ocean breeze. She eagerly devoured your stories of island life as that red blotch existed, just off in the distance, waiting for his turn to bask in Rosie’s attention. Though, perhaps bask wasn’t the right word, considering he was an overlord himself. 

Needless to say, when Alastor approached you a few days ago and asked if you would consider doing him the honor of allowing him to court you, you thought at first it was some sick joke. You nearly laughed before you caught sight of Rosie standing off behind him with her thumbs up and what could have been the largest smile you had ever seen on her face. Oh, he was serious. This was serious. 

“Okay,” you tentatively answered, unsure exactly what you were supposed to do or say. Hell, you were not even sure what the fuck ‘courting’ was or if it was any different from dating, if at all. That wasn’t really something you could ask Alastor, you were sure of it. 

“Wonderful!” Alastor had said, cheer radiating off of him as he took your hand in his and placed a soft kiss on the back of it. “I’ll pick you up in a week for our first outing!” 

And just like that, he let the emporium in a flutter and you asking, “What the hell just happened?” 

You had no more clarification now than you had a week ago. Rosie was no help, simply cooing over you. Whatever had just happened, you knew she had her fingers in it and what’s worse; you were certain she had her fingers in what was happening now too. 

“I can hear your heartbeat,” Alastor teased as he turned, walking you both backward. He used his back to push open the door, a tentacle reaching out from him to keep it from swinging back on you. “Are you afraid?” 

“Anyone would be a little frightened to put so much trust in you,” you whispered, unsure if you should be honest with your… whatever Alastor was to you. Would it be wrong to ask him if courting meant that he was your boyfriend or if that was some other step down the line? 

Perhaps you could save your dignity and just ask Rosie again. She was from the same time period, wasn’t she? Eventually, she would have to give you an answer, right?

“I pulled a few strings,” Alastor spoke, turning you again to walk forward. He seemed to not mind that you had admitted mistrust in him, however softly you had said it. “I hope you find it acceptable.” 

Wherever Alastor was taking you, you knew you were outside again. The hot air of hell brushed against your skin. If only you could feel the warmth of the sun, you could almost think you were home again with the way the heat radiated, sinking into your bones. 

Alastor stopped at some point though you couldn’t say how far you had walked with his hands covering your eyes. After waiting a few moments, he dropped his hands, revealing the last thing you had expected to see in hell. 

Your eyes widened as you took in the sight in front of you. Alastor chuckled at the gasp that passed between your lips. Before you was a large outdoor swimming pool, filled with clean water that sparkled impossibly blue in the dim light of hell. 

“What do you mean, ‘you pulled some strings’?” You turned, facing Alastor with wide eyes. 

He looked down at you with a soft smile. “I called in a few favors with the Morningstar family to get this new asset for the hotel rushed. I… I requested it a few weeks ago with you in mind.” 

“A few weeks ago?” He had only asked to court you a week ago. What was his plan if you had said no?

Alastor seemed to hesitate for a moment, “Yes, is… is that acceptable? The way you’d talk of swimming, you seemed to long for it.” 

You threw your arms around Alastor, jumping up as you hung from his neck. He stepped back, caught by surprise at your enthusiasm. It was hardly a proper display. You knew he favored propriety, much like Rosie did, but in your excitement, you lost yourself. You were about to let go when his arm settled around your waist, holding you to him in a soft hug.

“Thank you, Alastor,” you whispered into his neck. “I haven’t swum since my death.” 

“I’m glad you find it acceptable.” He guided you down to your feet.

“I can’t wait!” You grinned up at him before turning on your heels. After a second of hesitation of your own, you took up Alastor’s hand and ran toward the edge of the pool. 

“If you’d like to step over into the changing rooms,” Alastor slowed, pulling his hand from yours to gesture to the changing rooms only to find you pulling your shirt up over your head and throwing it aside as you continued eagerly toward the pool. 

“Oh,” Alastor chuckled as you looked back at him, shimmying out of your pants. “That’s not what I expected.”

“Are you coming?” You called as you stretched, standing in just your bra and panties, uncaring, or at least so it looked to Alastor, of the fact that he had never seen so much of your skin exposed before. 

“I was going to go change,” Alastor again motioned to the changing rooms, though his feet carried him close and closer to the pool’s edge. 

He watched as you turned, bra clinging to your breasts as you smiled at him. Red eyes ran over your skin, taking in the curves that had been hidden from him for years. His mother had raised him better than to greedily take in the sight of a disrobed woman outside of the privacy of his home, but she also had raised him better than to murder. 

You held your arms out to the sides, smile wide as you watched Alastor’s eyes run down your torso. He had a moment to admire the lacy panties, red as blood that hugged your mound, spreading into thin straps over your hips before you fell back. 

Water splashed up around you as you sank deep into the pool. Glee sang in your heart as the water embraced your body. You twisted and turned in it, allowing your body to sink lower and before you pulled yourself toward the surface. 

Blinking water from your eyes, you found a sight you never thought you’d see. 

Alastor had shed his shirt, shoes kicked off to the side. His eyes met yours as he let his pants fall from around his waist. He stepped out of them, hooves clicking softly against the tiles of the roof. 

The sight of him, standing in the closest thing to sunlight hell offered, had your heart pounding in your chest. He was tall, nothing but long, lean lines that seemed to go on forever. Everyone in hell had their bodies twisted, shaped and pushed into something that was a far cry from humanity, in one way or another. Most, like Alastor, took on animal traits and features. 

Finding the things to love, to find acceptable in the forms of others and one’s self in hell took many time. Some never managed to even find acceptance in their new form. You had been blessed, finding yourself pleasing, well enough at least. Though you missed what you had been, you didn’t hate what you had become.

You couldn’t tell if Alastor felt the same about his form. He had been covered from neck to toe for the whole of the time you had known him. You didn’t even realize he had hooves tucked into his shoes. 

“A penny for your thoughts?” Alastor asked as he stepped toward the edge of the pool.

“Can you swim with hooves?” you asked, cocking your head to the side as you leaned against the edge of the pool. 

“I suppose we’re going to find out,” Alastor’s smile turned wide, grin cutting across his face as he sat on the edge and let his legs into the water. 

“I’m surprised,” you said, pushing back from the wall to float away easily on your back. “I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t this. You didn’t.. You didn’t have to do this for me. Favors are as good as gold down here, and you burned some for me.” 

“It’s just a small taste of what is within my power,” Alastor said, swimming toward you. His hoofs clearly made swimming take more effort, yet he managed easily enough. 

“You don’t have to buy my affection, you know?” You arched your back, kicking your legs and sending yourself under the water’s surface with the practiced ease of a lifetime spent in the water. 

Alastor watched, one ear cocked to the side as a bemused smile settled on his lips. If he didn’t have to buy your affections, how would he go about getting them? You were, as you always were, a mystery to him. As you cut a practiced path under the water’s surface, he could only wait as he watched. 

Oh, you were beautiful. 

You surfaced in a show, water exploding from your arms as you thrust them up into the air. Hands smoothed water from your hair, sending it cascading down your neck as you gasped for air. As the surrounding water settled, a bright smile grew on your face. 

Alastor treaded water nearby, water weighing down the tuft of fur that sat on his chest, a reminder of his animalistic nature when so much of his torso was otherwise nearly human. 

“I never thought I’d see you like this,” you whispered as you swam closer.

“How so?” Alastor’s hands twitched in the water, claws causing small whirlpools above the surface. It almost looked like he wanted to reach out for you. 

“Relaxed.” You ran your eyes over him, once again taking in the way he was nearly bare in front of you. “You can touch me, you know?” 

“Can I?” Alastor’s ear, damp from your splashing, twitched, sending a drop of water down into the pool. “I don’t want to overstep.” 

He was such a gentleman. It was almost painful and yet enduring. It made you feel so seen, cherished, respected. Of all the people you had ever been with, none had hesitated to touch you. 

You swam up to him, wrapping your arms around his neck to keep yourself above water. His breath hitched as your chest pressed into his, stomach sliding against his as your legs settled, one between his. 

“It’s okay.” You ran your fingers through his damp hair, watching the way he melted ever just so under your touches. “I won’t break.” 

“It’s been… a while,” Alastor admitted. “I don’t wish to chase you off, to push you too fast. I find I’m rather unsure of the speed courting moves nowadays.” 

“It moves however fast we want it too,” you whispered, pushing your body into his more, telling yourself that you were right- courting was dating. It also wasn’t, it was something somehow more. “If I want you to touch me and you want to touch me, you won’t break me by touching me.” 

“You wish for me to touch you?” Alastor asked. 

“If you want to.” Your body brushed against his in the water. “Then I want you to.” 

Alastor’s hands settled on your hips, claws poking at the soft skin as he held your hips close to his body. You wanted him; you realized. The desire for Alastor, his company, his kindness, his power, his body- it snuck up on you. He had snuck up on you, finding himself tucked into your heart before you had even been aware of it. 

Could it become love? You thought so. He was a man you could easily love, now that his attention was turned on you. 

“Is there anything you do not wish for me to do?” Alastor asked, his hips brushed against yours. “Anything that is too far, too fast?” 

“Nothing,” you whispered, eyes darting down to his smile as his hand smoothed over the small of your back, inching higher with each pass. 

“I’m surprised you got in the pool with me.” Your thigh ran along the outside of his as you almost straddled his thigh as you ran a hand over his shoulder and down his chest, fingers caressing his sharp collar bone. “I thought you wouldn’t want to risk someone seeing you like this.” 

“There is no risk,” Alastor’s smile grew softer, “I put a shield up the moment you disrobed. I wanted to protect your modesty and give us privacy for our first date.” 

“Our first date,” you giggled as you ran the heel of your foot down the back of his calf. “Is a lovely one.” 

“I’m glad you find it so.” 

“Are you going to kiss me?” you whispered, heel smoothing down the fur that grew on his lower calf, leading the way to the transition to deer hoofs. 

“Would you like me to?” Alastor teased, fingers twitching between your shoulder blades. 

“Would you like to?” you challenged back, not knowing how far you could push him or what it would get you.

“I think that’s a lovely place to start,” Alastor’s voice was deep, thick as he drew you closer. 

“Then let’s get started.” You felt a rush as the words left your lips, sounding far more confident in what was between you and Alastor than you actually were. 

His lips met yours in a soft, sweet kiss. Timid caresses of lips grew, morphed into something more confident as the first kiss became the second. It felt like it took nothing more than a few heartbeats for Alastor to have himself pressed against you. 

His fingers twitched, running over the clasp of your bra as his lips met yours again and again. You pressed your pelvis into his, sighing as you felt him stir to life slightly in his boxers. 

It had been so long since you felt desired and yet, the way Alastor’s lips left yours, trailing along your jaw and neck combined with the feeling of his fingers digging into your hip, made you feel like the woman you had once been. 

Your heart pounded in your chest as Alastor’s fingers twitched over the clasp of your bra again. Your heart thrashed against your ribs as you waited to see what he was going to do. Waiting and hoping. 

His lips ghosted over your shoulder as the band around your ribs gave way, falling slack. The only thing that kept your bra from floating away from your chest was how it was pinned between your bodies. 

“Is this alright?” Alastor asked, fingers urging the shoulder strap to fall down your arm.

“It is,” you smiled as he let you float away from him. 

The bra floated to the surface again as you worked your arms out of the straps. Heat rushed into your cheeks as you floated just outside of Alastor’s reach. His eyes ran over you, taking in the swells of your breasts below the water. The cool water had your nipples pulled into tight pebbles. 

“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?” Alastor murmured as he encircled you in his arms again, crashing your breasts against his chest. 

“No,” you answered honestly.

“Then I shall strive to do so as often as I may,” Alastor’s lips found yours again, hands running along your sides. There was a fire in the kiss this time. He groaned into your lips as you wrapped your legs around his waist. The heat of your core pressed into him, teasing his stiffening cock with the promise of more. 

“Will you?” You whimpered as he pressed your back into the sharp edge of the pool. 

“For you,” Alastor promised, lifting you easily out of the water to sit on the edge of the pool, “I will fill the airwaves with proclamations of your beauty. Should you ever forget, you’ll need but only to turn on the radio.” 

“Oh,” you sighed as Alastor’s fingers snagged under the band of your panties, tugging them slightly lower. He waited for you to protest, looking up at you for some sort of sign. You lifted your hips instead, smiling down at him. The wet lace slipped down your hips, cast aside to float in the water with your bra. 

“Magnificent,” Alastor purred, planting his palms on either side of your hips, pushing himself out of the water. 

“Not really.” Your protests, weak though they were, were cut off by his lips pressing into yours again. Alastor’s wet torso slipped between your knees as he pulled your naked body to him. 

“Yes, really.” He kept you held to him as he pulled himself out of the water. The wet fabric of his underwear clung to him, highlighting every curve of what little of him remained covered, including the hardness of his cock. “May I taste you?” 

“Yes,” you whimpered, not daring to believe he meant what he said in the way you hoped he did. Your… whatever courting made him was a cannibal, you knew that. Surely that was the sort of taste he meant. 

He leaned your back against the hard ground, spreading your legs and wasted no time delving in. He was greedy with his desire, legs spread out behind him. He hooked your legs over his shoulders as pushed forward, spreading you.

You didn’t know what to expect from your first outing with Alastor as your boyfriend maybe, but on the list of possibilities you hadn’t listed being spread out, naked, poolside and moaning his name while his tongue sank deeper into your opening. 

There were many things you were learning about Alastor. You learned he was a thoughtful partner. You learned he was a talented kisser. You were in the process of receiving a lesson on how talented he was with other things as your back arched, nipples pointing skyward as you gasped and moaned.

He sank a finger into your fluttering opening, weeping and begging to be filled as you cried his name out again and again. It was forward, so unlike the man who asked you to court him and yet so magically right as he curled his finger again and again, pulling orgasm after orgasm from your body as the pool water dried on your skin. 

“Ah, ah, Al-Alast-” Your body clamped down around him, spilling more slick that he eagerly drank up. How many had he pulled from you? Two? Three? Your body sagged as the waves of pleasure passed, leaving overstimulation to send bolts of pleasure through your body. 

“Cher,” Alastor looked up your body, taking in the way your breasts moved with each having breath, “I fear I got carried away. I forgot we’re here to swim, not feast. Do forgive me.” 

Your limbs were noodles as he scooped you up into his arms. You clung to him, body pressing against his as he carried you into the pool, each step down the stairs sinking the both of your bodies deeper into the cold water. 

“It’s cold,” you whined, spent body sensitive as he moved you deeper and deeper. 

“I’ll keep you warm.” His lips crashed into yours as he pressed you into the cold tile. The heat of your bodies mixed, warming the water around you as you drank the taste of your slick from his lips. 

“You will?” You worked your sensitive cunt over his bulge as you clung to him. This was far more than you would have expected or a first date, but his touches left you wanting more. 

The typically proper and restrained demon was quickly becoming your favorite drug. 

Your legs worked his underwear down, pushing them lower and lower until his hand left your hip and took control, casting them off to float off into the water. 

“Are you sure?” Alastor asked as you eagerly ground your cunt against his cock. 

“Please,” you whimpered, eager for the feel of him stretching your walls around him. 

“It’s not too much?” Alastor asked as the head of his cock nestled against your twitching opening. 

“Please,” groaned as he let your body sink down, the head of his cock pushing past your slick opening. “If you don’t fuck me, I’m going to go insane.” 

“Oh,” Alastor groaned, guiding your body lower and lower as you moaned, head thrown back. “We can’t have that, now can we?” 

Your oversensitive sex burned as he stretched you, the pool water offering little in the way of lubricant while washing away what you had produced yourself. All you could feel was him as black swam around the edges of your vision. 

“You must breathe,” Alastor whispered as he bottomed out inside you. 

You hadn’t realized you were holding your breath until that moment. Gasping for air, you struggled, clinging to him as he pushed his body into yours tighter. 

“Oh, that is rather unexpected,” Alastor moaned, the flowing water from the vent ghosting past your ass and blowing directly against his balls. 

Each thrust into you splashed water up around your bodies, ensuring your chest never stopped glittering in the dim light. You clung to him, moaning his name as his cock nudged every sensitive pocket of nerves in your body. The fur at the base of his cock brushed against your clit, ensuring you could hardly breathe. 

“Oh, shit.” You dug your fingers into the neat short hair at the back of his head as he thrust into you again and again, water slowing his pace. “Fuck, Alastor.” 

“You are,” he moaned in your ear as your over sensitive cunt clutched his cock, trying to suck him deeper. 

“You’re so, fuck, so big.” He chucked as you struggled to put words together, speared on his cock. “I’m so close, fuck. How am I close again?” 

“Because I’m that good,” Alastor teased, teeth nipping your lips as he closed his eyes, allowing the warm heat of your cunt to wash over him. The vent caressed his balls, each thrust into you being met with the soft brushes. “I’m sorry, Cher, I’m not going to last as long as you deserve.”

“Fuck,” you moaned as his cock swelled and twitched inside you. “Fuck, Alastor.”

He kissed you, eager to swallow your moans as he pushed into your body again and again. Each time he bottomed out, he felt your walls contract around him, begging for him to give into the pleasure. A deep groan reverberated through Alastor’s chest, running from his throat into you as he kissed you. 

You came hard, body finding the strength to grip his cock like a vice. Your head fell back, a trail of saliva connecting your lips as you cried out, repeating his name as if it was the very key to your salvation.

Alastor’s lips hit your neck as he bit down, his own orgasm being ripped from him by the force of your own. Coppery blood filled his mouth as he drank from you. He moaned, swallowing part of you into his body as he shot a part of himself deep inside your core. 

He swallowed with each wave of pleasure, pouring and drinking as you clung to him, moaning with every soft thrust until he slowed to a throbbing stop. 

“I seem to have gotten carried away once again.” Alastor spoke, breathing heavily as his body stilled, cock keeping his seed from spilling out into the pool water. He licked the blood from his lips before he looked up at you again. “You seem to sweep me away.” 

“Oh,” you chuckled weakly, held above water by the arms wrapped around you. “I don’t think I mind.” 

“Good,” Alastor chuckled, kissing you again as his softening cock twitched inside you.

If this was what dates with Alastor would be like, you hoped to have many more. 

Join us at VoxTek for a Vox themed Hazbin Discord where we talk Vox, Hazbin, writing, reading, art and who knows what else. You may even catch some exclusive sneak peeks at upcoming fics from some of your favorite writers including the first page of the next chapter of MisD a day early!!

[daycourtofficial]

I got cursed like Eve got bitten - part III

Pairing: Azriel x Rhysand’s sister!reader | WC: 1k | warnings: none

Summary: reports of a rare powered fae popping up in Illyria send Azriel and Rhysand on a journey through the past, unraveling a truth they thought long buried

Previous part | Next part | Masterlist

Feyre laughed as Rhysand had told her about Cassian’s most recent disastrous hookup. The female came by the townhouse, knocking furiously before stalking inside past the entire family, and serenaded all of them in song in hopes of finding true love with Cassian.

Rhys had to politely escort her out before telling Cassian to please limit his dating life to females who did not have singing ambitions.

Feyre’s voice was soft as they sat at the table, Rhys waving to the waiter to fill up their wine glasses. “What about Azriel? Does he have any awkward hookup stories?”

Rhys’s shoulders locked up at her question, swallowing harshly as he looked down to his glass. The light air between them sank quickly, the uncomfortable silence making Feyre antsy as the waiter topped off their glasses.

“No. No he does not.”

That conversation was all Feyre had known for a long, long time about Azriel’s love life. For years she would look up to find him watching her and Rhysand, Cassian and Nesta, and eventually Elain and Lucien, his eyes not lingering for long before quickly looking away. For years she had wanted to ask, but everytime she had the chance, she dropped the subject. 

She watched for so long as Azriel adored his friends, never extending that adoration to anyone outside of the Inner Circle. 

Once she had broached the subject with Cassian, playfully suggesting to him the two of them should set Azriel up on a date. Cassian had sobered up immediately, looking directly at Feyre before telling her simply, “do not ever make such suggestions again.”

Until today.

Feyre had walked into the foyer, expecting her mate and brother-in-law to be there. Rhys had tugged on their bond, but hadn’t sent words of explanation to her. Blue eyes moved between Azriel and Rhysand before landing on the female between them, brows quirked at the sight of her. She was pretty - an Illyrian nose and lips, dark curls down her back. Her ears were the first giveaway - sharpy, pointed tips that had dark curls tucked behind them. When she opened her eyes, violet eyes met Feyre’s, the High Lady didn’t have to wait for Rhys’s voice to fill in the gaps. The similar features to her mate would have been enough to give it away, if it weren’t also for the fact Feyre had just completed a set of portraits for Rhys - one to honor his deceased mother and sisters. 

She just had them hung up in the drawing room three doors away. 

Feyre took in the way they were both keeping some distance from her, but Azriel’s body was slightly in front of hers, ready to push her back if necessary. As if anyone, even Feyre, could be a threat.

She looked to her mate and watched the way his eyes kept flitting to her back at the empty space behind her, his hand lifting slightly and hovered over her back before his eyes met Feyre’s. 

Don’t tell her who we think she is.

Feyre wanted to ask him what the hell was going on, but the female in front of them moved forward, bowing at the waist deeply before addressing her. “High Lady.”

Rhys wanted to roll his eyes, the action a repeated one whenever you two bickered.

“My apologies, your grace.”

The bend of your waist just so, barely perceptible, a subtle way of saying this is obligation, not respect.

“Alright, asshole.”

The memory would have made him laugh if he weren’t watching it play out again before him. Feyre cleared her throat, moving forward and extending a hand out. “Welcome to our home.”

You took her hand, a firm grip that made Feyre nod. Rhys’s voice was soft in Feyre’s mind, we thought it might be better for you to show her around.

Feyre masked the surprise she felt, instead offering an elbow out to you. “May I show you around?”

Everything inside of Azriel vibrated as he had to stay in place, a mere observer as Feyre escorted you down the hallway, his restraint on his shadows loosening once you were out of sight. The dark tendrils slithered across the room, shadows clumped in the spots you were, basking in your scent. Several of them made their way to the path you took with Feyre, leaving footprints in your wake. 

“Feyre won’t let anything happen to her.”

Azriel’s eyes were practically black as he gazed at Rhysand, his throat dry as he spoke, the first words he had spoken since seeing you in that bar.

“It’s her, I know it is.”

And before Rhys could respond, Azriel disappeared into a swarm of shadows, several still lingering in his absence. Rhys watched them swirl about the room, watching them flit about in all the places you had been.

Azriel rematerialized in a place long untouched, his shadows slinking off of him and coating the ground at the comfort they felt at being back. The sounds of the Sidra helped drown out the ringing in his head as he walked the overgrown path, his shadows attempting to push down some of the grass to make his movements easier. His feet grew heavier with each step, making his way through the wards and the threshold, until the shadowsinger found himself standing in the front hallway of the house.

From here, he could see a sliver of the living room and of the kitchen. It was a limited view - one he spent many nights taking in, allowing his shadows to echo your voice through the house, allowing himself just one moment to play pretend.

From this vantage point, he couldn’t see who was inside the house. If he took a step forward, he would see the empty couches, the layers of dust that had accumulated since his last visit. He would see how dark and lifeless this place had come to be with only him to fill the space.

But he can’t see all of that yet. Instead his feet planted themselves in the spot, his shadows carrying your voice around like a song. 

Because for the first time in centuries, they finally had new notes to play.

Permanent taglist: @vanilla-seabass @cyrygher @lees-chaotic-brain @topaz125 @chessebookgirl @fides25 @lady-of-tearshed @ashbatz @fxckmiup @lilah-asteria @justvibbinghere @daughterofthemoons-stuff @mybestfriendmademe @heartless-tate @tsunami-of-tears @idrkwhatthisisimsorry @olive-main @azrielsmate3 @pit-and-the-pen @durgenyx @dee-writes-smut @chairofchaos @thelov3lybookworm @berryzxx @throneofsmut @kennedy-brooke @prythianpages @itsswritten @acotarxreader @milswrites @the-golden-jhope @hannzoaks @secretlyhers

Azriel taglist: @brieflyclassymortal @thisiskaylin @magicstrengthandcourage

series taglist: @doodlebugg16-blog @ceoofyearning @saltedcoffeescotch @acourtofbatboydreams @willowpains @anarchii @i-am-infinite @bsenpai @sstrohma @teenagellamaangel @allthatisbuck1917

Thanks for reading ❣️

[bombcollar]

The Greatmaw Dragons - An Ancient Fanbreed

Vast and stalwart, the Greatmaw dragons were created ages ago by the Lightweaver to prevent the rise of further Emperors. Greatmaws were able to stride across active battlefields, shrugging off any and all attacks due to their sheer size and magical defensive prowess. Tasked with finding and consuming the corpses of fallen Imperial dragons, they carried out this sacred rite, believing it the highest honor a dragon could be given.

Greatmaws were able to absorb any lingering magical potential in the bodies they consumed, using it to bolster or heal their allies by their mere presence. If an Emperor did rise, they would lay it back to rest, two or more of them gathering around it, tearing it to pieces with their jaws and devouring it.  To have one’s ancestors or relatives consumed by a Greatmaw is considered a blessing by Imperial dragons, who will brag about it for generations.

Outside of battle, Greatmaws were pious, respected members of the Light, often serving as priests and counselors, especially for those who were grieving. They understood death as no other and were grateful to help in spiritual ways as well as physical. None were more devoted to the Lightweaver than they.

However, there came a time when Emperor dragons seemed to be no more. There was far more care given to deceased Imperials, and the threat had diminished. Their large bodies were difficult to sustain without as many corpses to eat. The Lightweaver saw the Greatmaws no longer served their original purpose, and the species heeded her word to cease having hatchlings, content to die out if that was her wish, but…

There is always room for contingencies. Dozens of eggs were saved and lay dormant, waiting for the day the Emperors rise again. With a war on the horizon, they may be needed sooner than anyone thought.

Individual images and tert gene sketches under the cut:

Size comparison to an imperial.

[bones4thecats]

New anon appears! (🐝 emoji icon)

Head empty, only TFP S/O with sparklings concept idea from your list! :D

Really thinking about the S/O concept with either Ultra Magnus or Knockout but it's up to you!

Sorry it's my first time ever requesting a fix from someone so my bad if I'm doing it wrong D:

┗ They're Their Dumb Kids; TFP × S/O ┛

Characters: Arcee, Ultra Magnus, Knockout, and Breakdown (Transformers Prime) A/N: Hello there, 🐝Anon! I'm thankful you like that prompt, I was really into the thoughts of them being step-parents to these kids and proving themselves worthy mentally. Hope you do like the Ultra Magnus and Knockout parts! Also, you did perfectly fine on requesting! Not to shabby for a newbie! ⇘ Summary: Having a child and proving your worth to yourself is hard enough, but when that child isn't yours, it can be harder than ever for the person who just earned the title.

Thought I should mention this too, the father's of the sparklings in each pieces are: Arcee's -> Soundwave / Ultra Magnus' -> Dreadwing / Knockout's -> Makeshift / Breakdown's -> Wheeljack

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🏍️ When you joined the Autobots, everyone knew how protective you were of your sparklings. Two little ones, the female you named Compass, and the male your deceased lover happily named Trident.

🏍️ Trident's arms matched Soundwave's, though they were a completely different color. One of the first moments Arcee began to bond with Trident, had been insecure of his appendages, only seeing the evil that came from them. Also known as; his sire.

🏍️ She laid a servo on his shoulder pad and smiled, telling him it wasn't his CNA that defined who he was, but how he acted and what he decided to do. He may look like Soundwave in certain ways, but that didn't mean he was like him in reality.

🏍️ Arcee absolutely adored Compass when she first spoke. She transformed into a tiny computer that could wire itself to any kind of technology and hack like nothing. And, unlike her brother, she had no sense of insecurity, rather, she found it cool that she could do that.

🏍️ Your sparkmate does enjoy spending time with the two, though, sometimes her own insecurities flare up and cause her to believe she would eventually fail in keeping them safe.

🏍️ Every time you three see this, you come up from behind and hug her, giving her so much love that it would make Cupid hurl.

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🎖️ Ultra Magnus was surprised that Optimus allowed you to have your sparkling around, as they were the spawn of a Decepticon. Specifically, Dreadwing. Everyone, even humans, could tell that your female sparkling took the most after her sire.

🎖️ She had the same guarding around her face, including the little movable points around her face plate. She also had fairly large wings for her smaller build. These wings almost reached the size of one of Soundwave's arms, shockingly enough.

🎖️ Ultra Magnus, despite the concerns at first, does enjoy to be around your sparklings. Your two boys, Coil and Backway, both enjoyed to be with him. They were the first to actually accept Ultra Magnus as a sire-figure, which made him loosen up slightly.

🎖️ On the other hand, your only female sparkling, Ember, was more reluctant. She loved her biological sire so much, despite his alliances, and it was hard moving on from him. But, as Ultra Magnus began to lead and show his emotions more with her, she opened up and accepted him.

🎖️ He understands he can't replace Dreadwing, and he does honor him after the war with your sparklings. And it's this actions that brings them closer together. There are no outsiders in your family.

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🪚 Makeshift and you were a match made by Unicron. A complete mess of a bond that ended in a complete blaze. And it was through this bond that three mechs were created, each different completely yet similar by one thing: they were all named by your old friend, Knockout.

🪚 Your oldest, Buzzjaw, your second oldest, Savvy, and your youngest, Snowdrift, all adored Knockout. Because Makeshift was never involved in their lives and development, Knockout became their sire figure through and through.

🪚 Buzzjaw normally keeps to himself, staying just as silent as his sire, but, whenever he spends some one-on-one time with Knockout, he becomes more talkative than a parrot. Meanwhile, Savvy is naturally talkative, and loved to learn about different parts of the Cybertronian body.

🪚 Finally, you have Snowdrift. Snowdrift is by far Knockout's favorite sparkling of yours. He always has a completely blank face due to his mask, but Knockout can tell what emotion Snowdrift feels just by looking into his optics. This makes your youngest feel less like an outsider in his family, and more like a central piece in it.

🪚 You love seeing Knockout telling a story about a successful mission. But, you also love it when your boys end up seeing you buffing your sparkmate down. They have ended up holding back their laughs at seeing the prideful mech all scratched up.

🪚 Oh yeah, he also has this urge to keep the three perfect looking. Meanwhile, each of them (mainly Savvy) will get scratched up so badly that it almost causes Knockout to literally knock himself out

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🥊 You despised Wheeljack with a passion. Back on Cybertron, he was the perfect mech. He was polite and he understood everything you said. But, after the war began, he just completely changed, becoming a bot you couldn't recognize. This led to a fight in which you left his side for the Decepticons, since your closest friends were on that side. Including Breakdown.

🥊 During the fight, Wheeljack had taken two of your boys, Oilbite and Wildfeather. This angered you so much, you had to be put away for a few Earth weeks due to your anger issues. During that time, Breakdown began to bond a lot more with your three other sparklings.

🥊 Riot, your second oldest, did enjoy Breakdown being around. He wanted to smash everything in sight a majority of the time, as he inherited your anger issues and Wheeljack's, but, after speaking with the blue-Decepticon, he learned to control his anger better, which pleased you.

🥊 Whistle, the middle child, just adored Breakdown. She loved seeing him fight and enjoyed spending time with her uncle Knockout. She would spend hours in the medbay with the two of them, hanging around and learning about everything the two knew. It was honestly heartwarming.

🥊 Turbine and Ace, your twin youngests, were the ones that Breakdown was most nervous about being around. But, with the help of Knockout and you, his confidence rose high enough for him to reach out and begin raising the two youngsters. They just love him so much, and his spark almost melted when they called him their sire for the first time.

🥊 On the other hand, the two that Wheeljack took just glared at Breakdown. But, when the war finished and they actually began to speak with you and their distant-siblings, they realized just how much of a crucial role Breakdown played in their growth. Hell, even Wheeljack had to admit, the guy sounded pretty cool.

[ditzybat]

Had a thought about Mexican Jason Todd while setting up my family’s Ofrenda with my mom this year. So basically, it’s agreed that Jason died at the end of April, and was resurrected 6 months later at the end of October (and in this HC the VERY beginning of November). So what if, every year after his mom died, Jason would set up his Ofrenda with Bruce. Honoring Catherine, even Martha and Thomas along with other deceased loved ones like John and Mary Grayson for Dick. And after Jason’s death, Bruce pulls himself together to put his son on the family Ofrenda. His Pan de Muertos not as nice as Jason’s family recipe, the Cempazuchitl is arranged around the alter, but not as aesthetically appealing as the way Jason would arrange it, and the candles not quite the correct brand that they would normally pick up from Crime Alley. But it’s personal, and sweet, and he knows that in spirit Jason would join him along with other loved ones. However, what if, on midnight of November 1, when the veil between the living and the dead is weakest, Jason crawls out of his coffin disoriented and confused as to how, exactly, he’s alive.

[luna-azzurra]

Reactions to grief

Denial and Disbelief: Initially, a character may struggle to accept the reality of their loss. They might refuse to believe that their loved one is gone, clinging to hope or desperately searching for any signs of their presence.

Emotional Turmoil: Grief often brings intense emotional upheaval. Characters may experience profound sadness, despair, anger, guilt, or a mix of conflicting emotions. Their moods may fluctuate drastically, leading to outbursts of tears, frustration, or numbness.

Withdrawal and Isolation: Some characters might withdraw from social interactions, seeking solitude to process their grief. They may isolate themselves from others, finding solace in their own thoughts and memories.

- Physical Symptoms: Grief can manifest in physical symptoms such as loss of appetite, insomnia, fatigue, headaches, or other psychosomatic manifestations. These physical reactions can reflect the toll that grief takes on the character's overall well-being.

Immersion in Memories: Characters may immerse themselves in memories of the person they've lost. They might seek comfort in looking at old photographs, listening to recordings, or visiting significant places that remind them of their loved one.

Guilt and Regret: Characters may grapple with guilt and regret over things left unsaid or unresolved issues with the deceased. They may blame themselves for not being able to prevent the loss or feel remorse for any negative actions or words in the past.

Seeking Closure: Characters might actively seek closure by investigating the circumstances surrounding the loss or searching for answers. This could involve conducting their own inquiries, talking to people connected to the situation, or even pursuing spiritual or metaphysical avenues.

Attempting to Fill the Void: Some characters may try to fill the void left by their loss by immersing themselves in work, hobbies, or other distractions. This can be a way to cope with the pain or to create a sense of purpose in the absence of their loved one.

Rediscovering Meaning: Over time, characters may go through a process of reevaluating their own life's purpose and finding new meaning or direction. This can involve pursuing new interests, engaging in charitable acts, or dedicating themselves to causes that honor the memory of the person they've lost.

Healing and Acceptance: Eventually, characters may find a sense of healing and acceptance. While the pain of the loss never fully disappears, they learn to live with their grief and carry the memory of their loved one with them. This can lead to a renewed sense of purpose or a deepened appreciation for life.

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[potatoplace]

Gone

Azriel x Archeron!Reader (deceased), Elriel

the 1 | alternate endings: betty | The Prophecy

mini-series masterlist | ACOTAR x reader masterlist

Story Summary: In the wake of your death, Azriel loses everything. And still, you're dead and gone, an aching void felt in those around you.

Warnings: character death (suicide), dead body of reader, grieving, fuck Azriel

Words: ~2.5k

Author's Note: Yes, the title comes from Rosé's 'Gone'. Go listen to it RIGHT NOW. I would say that even without this fic tho lol love me some Rosie 🫶 So here's the first one of the second parts to the 1! I hope you guys like it, and I hope I did all of the characters' reactions justice (especially Miss Feyre) - ALSO thank you for all the love you've given the 1! It was born out of my own crappy day, I'm happy something good came out of it ☺️

18+ only pls

🤍💙🩷💙🤍

Azriel quickly made his way back to Elain, doing his best to put the interaction he had just had with you behind him.

His mate.

Elain’s sister… That’s the only way he had ever thought of you.

As a human you had been… Less than average. Hard to look at.

At least in comparison to Elain.

Elain was a breath of fresh air, so lovely and innocent and so entirely unlike him.

And turned fae, she was even more breathtaking.

He had waited for her to realize how truly damaged and scarred he was, and not just on the outside. How entirely unworthy of her he was.

But she hadn’t. She had seen him, loved him, even with how broken he was on the inside.

And he had meant his words to Nesta, when he had said no one would ever compare to Elain, even his mate.

And he was right. You didn’t compare to her.

But as he reached her side and wrapped his arm around his lovely Elain, he couldn’t help but… wonder.

Had he just made a mistake in rejecting the bond so easily?

His free hand came to rub at his chest, which felt like it was being scraped with a knife, a dull, throbbing pain.

“Are you alright?” Elain’s sweet voice asked, and he tilted his head to look down at her.

A small smile graced his lips. “Of course, sweetheart. Come to the balcony with me, will you?”

The ring he had selected for Elain lay in a white velvet box, tucked safely in his jacket pocket. It was a beautiful ring, a silver band inlaid with glittering diamonds, and a stunning pink diamond as the centerpiece.

You had told him that Elain had always wanted a pink diamond ring.

He hoped you weren’t lying, trying to sabotage his proposal.

He wouldn’t put it past you, mating bonds do make fae rather territorial. Even if Elain is your sister.

He shook the thought out of his head, you had never been anything but kind. Boring, yes. Quiet, yes. But always kind.

Azriel smiled at Elain once they reached the balcony, and they stared out over Velaris together for a moment while he gathered his courage.

“Elain,” he said softly, drawing her gaze to him.

“Yes, love?” Elain asked, her lips curving upwards, as if she knew what was coming.

Azriel dropped to one knee and pulled the box from his jacket, reveling in how Elain’s eyes lit up.

“Elain, I have loved you for so long now. In fact, I believe I loved you from the moment I set eyes on you all that time ago, in the human lands. Never did I think that I would have the honor of calling you mine, even once. But now, knowing how wonderful you are, I cannot imagine spending the rest of my life with anyone but you. Elain,” he said, cracking open the box and showing her the ring inside. “Will you marry me?”

Tears were streaming down Elain’s face as she beamed down at him. “Yes, yes, a thousand times yes!” She squealed, and Azriel quickly slipped the ring onto her left hand before taking her in his arms and spinning her around. “I love you so much, Az. And how did you know I wanted a pink diamond?” Elain asked once he had set her down, giving her time to admire her new ring.

“Oh, I may have asked Y/N for advice on what you’ve always wanted,” Azriel said.

“Ah, that was smart-”

“Oh my gods!” Feyre screamed, cutting Elain off and causing the pair to look over to her.

“What is it, Feyre?” Rhys asked worriedly, panic on his face after Feyre’s outburst.

Feyre took off running before answering, Rhys following immediately, and the rest of the inner circle exchanged looks before sprinting after them, leaving the confused citizens of Velaris behind.

They skidded to a stop at a balcony, where Feyre was leaning over it, sobbing.

“No!” She screamed, a guttural cry leaving her lips as she collapsed to the floor, Rhys barely catching her in time as she passed out in his arms.

“What is it, Feyre?” Nesta asked as she walked over to the balcony, glancing over the side herself. “Mother above! Y/N!” Nesta yelled, the first time that Azriel had heard true, heart wrenching pain in her voice, and she collapsed next to Feyre, tears streaming down her face.

Y/N?

But what would be wrong with Y/N? Azriel had left her in the hallway, not ten minutes before now.

Elain tugged him over to the balcony, her heart rate picking up just from the reactions of her sisters. When she peeked over the side, a scream left her lips, more wounded and hurt than Azriel thought she would ever sound. “Y/N!” Elain cried as she fell next to her sisters, the three of them huddled together once Feyre came to a moment later, her sobs picking up instantly, her hands clutching at her chest.

Azriel dared a glance over the side, his heart dropping to his stomach when he saw it.

Saw you.

Lying there, unmoving, darkness surrounding your body.

He gasped and stumbled back from the balcony, reality hitting him.

Dead.

You were dead.

You were his mate and you were dead!

Tears streamed down his face, and he couldn’t tell exactly what happened next, but soon enough Cassian was flying back up from the ground, your limp, unmoving body in his arms.

The three sisters’ sobs grew louder when they saw you up close, the three of them surrounding your body where Cassian had gently placed it on the floor. Feyre sat with your head resting in her lap, her hands running through your hair as she sobbed. Azriel watched on, a hand covering his mouth as he beheld your lifeless form.

“Why…? Why would she do this?” Feyre cried, resting her head on Rhys’s shoulder when he sat next to her. “I don’t understand, she was fine just a little bit ago…”

Azriel couldn’t help but feel partially responsible.

“I…” He started, but stopped before he got it out.

Nesta’s head whipped towards him, though. “You…? You what, Azriel?” She snapped.

All eyes followed suit, snapping to Azriel’s form, taking in the tears on his cheeks.

“I… Y/N is… was… my…”

“Spit it out,” Nesta growled, her voice icy with rage and grief.

“Y/N was my mate,” Azriel finally whispered.

Everyone gasped, but it was Elain’s face that broke his heart.

“Y/N was… I don’t understand,” Feyre said softly, watery eyes meeting Azriel’s. “What… What happened?” She asked between teary breaths.

“She… She told me, when she had asked to speak with me, Elain.”

“And?” The sharp question came from Rhys.

Azriel hesitated, but the pressure of all those teary eyes had him answering. “I rejected the bond. Just as I said I would.”

“You what?!” Nesta screeched as she launched her body towards him, only stopped by Cassian’s strong arms wrapping around her waist and holding her back from killing his brother. “You found out about the bond and rejected it in the same night?! In less than ten minutes?!”

Feyre was glaring at him, tears streaming down her face, and he was sure that if she wasn’t still cradling your head in her lap that she would be eviscerating him with Nesta’s help.

And Elain… She was staring at him with such sorrow in her eyes, the love that had been shining in them mere minutes before all but gone.

“I… I thought that it was what I should do, I love Elain,” Azriel explained, but he could tell it was the wrong words by everyone’s shock and disgust.

“So you turned down the bond? Just like that? You couldn’t even think about it? When it was Y/N?!” Nesta yelled, her struggles against her mate renewed with her outrage. “What in the hells is wrong with you?” She snarled, silver flames bursting from her fingers.

“You should go, Azriel,” Feyre said quietly, the calm before the storm. And he didn’t want to be here when his High Lady turned into a raging hurricane.

His gaze snapped to Elain, who had turned away from him, instead focusing on where her fingers were caressing your rapidly paling face.

“Az. Just, go home. Okay?” Cassian suggested, his own expression harder than it normally appeared, but still softer than everyone else around them.

Mor and Amren, who had been quiet throughout the ordeal, gave him pitying looks as he turned to leave, his wings drooping to touch the ground.

The three sisters wails grew in volume as he left them, Feyre’s the loudest among them as she mourned her twin, who she’d already lost in death once before, and nearly again to the terror that was the Cauldron.

He could hear the concerned chatter of the citizens of Velaris nearby, a few people daring to venture into the disallowed areas of the House to see what all the commotion had been about. Quickly, Azriel made his way to another quiet balcony, launching himself into the sky.

Tears were still falling from his eyes when he landed in front of his and Elain’s cottage- though he wasn’t sure if he should even call it that anymore.

She still said yes, his shadows whispered to him quietly, their voices tinged with sadness. But… Our mate… they wept softly, coiling tightly around him.

Azriel threw the door open, making a beeline for the bedroom. He collapsed by the foot of the bed, a sob ripping from his throat.

His mate. Gone.

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Three days later and his mate was being lowered into the ground, her decoratively carved wooden casket slowly taking her to her final resting place.

His mate. Dead.

It had been three days since he and Elain had spoken, though they had laid next to each other in silence each night when Elain came home from planning the funeral and mourning in the company of her remaining sisters.

She looked beautiful today, even in dull black mourning garb. Her engagement ring was still sparkling on her ring finger, the one ray of light still left in his life.

He couldn’t help but feel she was slipping through his fingers, though.

A situation entirely of his own making, he supposed.

After the ceremony and during the wake, he waited for Elain to approach him first.

“Hi, Az,” she said softly, settling herself into the chair next to him. He murmured a soft hello back. “I wanted to… Talk to you.”

“Oh? What about, ‘Lainey?”

A slight blush colored her cheeks at the nickname. “I wanted to know… What you said to Y/N. I just… I need to know if it was just the bond being rejected or…” She trailed off, turning her eyes from his hazel ones to the table.

“If I was needlessly cruel to her?”

Elain pursed her lips together. “Yes.”

Azriel sighed. He had hoped he would never need to admit how horribly his last interaction with his mate had gone. “I… I was not kind to her, not like I should have been. I wish I could change how I rejected her Elain.”

Elain’s mouth turned downwards. “What exactly did you say?”

Azriel looked at the ground. He couldn’t meet her eyes as he repeated his awful words to her, her eyes widening by the second.

“I… Azriel, I am sorry, but I cannot marry you.” She slipped the ring, the ring that was so, perfectly Elain, off of her finger and onto the table, sliding it over to him. “I would not be able to marry someone who could say such things to someone, let alone to my sister and their mate. I… I wish you the best. I’ll move my things out of the cottage as soon as possible.”

And with that, Elain stood from the table and walked back to where her sisters and his brothers were sitting, leaving him and his broken heart in her wake.

She’s right, master, the shadows whispered to him. You hurt our mate badly. She is gone.

Tears pricked Azriel’s eyes again.

A few minutes later, a black cloud encroached on his field of view-

His High Lady.

“You said WHAT to my twin?!” Feyre screamed at him, darkness flooding his vision. “You thought being her mate was a joke?! And when it wasn’t a joke, you told her she would never compare to Elain?! And that waiting for your mate, the one who was made for you, was a waste of time?! What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Feyre raged, her inner beast coming out, only for Azriel to see.

And he was horrified, terrified as his High Lady pinned him to the ground, talons cutting into the skin of his throat and piercing his left wing.

“I should rip you limb from limb,” Feyre hissed, her voice more animal than fae. “It is only for my mate that I will not, but you will leave this court and never return. Better yet, leave the fucking continent so that I am less tempted to hunt you down and slaughter you anyways.”

And then Feyre was off of him, letting her claws slice into his neck, just barely missing his jugular. The darkness receded, leaving him lying on the ground bleeding and Feyre standing over him, appearing as a fae again.

“Azriel.” Rhys approached the two of them, followed closely by Cassian, and extended a hand to help Azriel up. “Brother, you know that I love you. But… You can’t stay here. Not now. Not after… This.” A heavy sigh left his brother’s lips.

Cassian hugged him tightly, careful to avoid brushing against his now punctured wing.

“I’ll miss you, brother. Take care of yourself… Don’t… Don’t do anything stupid, okay?” Cassian said quietly, tears shining in his eyes.

“I second that, Az. Be smart, hmm? I’m sure that you’ll find somewhere to hear from this, to change from this,” Rhys said aloud. Then, he spoke into his mind, “I know Feyre said to never return but… If you could, I would like for you to check in with me every month or so. Just to know that you’re alright.”

“I will,” Azriel replied in a soft voice, his throat sore from where Feyre had held him and cut him. “I am sorry, for what it’s worth,” he added as he regarded the three remaining Archeron sisters, knowing it would likely be the last time he would see any of them.

And then he took to the skies, even with his punctured wing making flight painful and more difficult than it had been since he first learned.

His mate, gone.

His family, gone.

It’s what I deserve.

General Taglist: @daughterofthemoons-stuff @lilah-asteria

'the 1' Taglist: @blackgirlmagicforever @historygeekqueen @angelbunny222

[metamorphesque]

Pulpulaks in Armenia

Usually built with or in stone and approximately one meter tall, the typical Armenian water fountain usually provides cold mountain spring water in Armenia.

It is called a Pulpulak which relates to the murmuring of water from the water source. Pulpulak is a source of pride in Armenia and are unique to anything you’ll find anywhere else in the world.

Pulpulaks are almost everywhere in Armenia and only 30 years ago, it was very strange for Armenians to understand the idea of “buying water” because water is something that has always been ever-flowing and free in the country.

Pulpulaks became more popular at the beginning of the 20th-century when society took to its ancestors and started to install them and celebrate the gift of water.

The fountains don’t solely have a mission to supply water to the residents but they are also built to honor someone who passed or did something remarkable.

When you see these pulpulaks, you often have to bow down to sip the water and it is a way of paying respects to the deceased person.

[source]