#cremation urns small

[federalmemorial]

Aria Dolphin Keepsake Urn With Velvet Bag

Pale blue Urn Small with gold dolphins. Dimensions: 2.9 x 1.9 x 1.9 Inch Capacity: Up to 5 Cubic Inch Crafted of brass; threaded lid for secure closure.

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[pulvisarturns]

Pulvis Art Urns team is here to help you finding the right memorial urn for your pet. We are entirely committed to making the process of shopping for handmade pet urns straightforward and easy for you.

[shadow4-1]

(Based on a true story) I'm imagining being a military contracted funeral director (from this post) that is surprised when the giant Lieutenant of the man you just cremated is waiting in your office.

"Oh! Um...h-hello Lieutenant Riley." You huff, completely caught off guard. "How long have you been waiting here?"

He doesn't respond. Just looks up at you with tired, distraught eyes. You've seen men bigger than him sobbing in the funeral home's lobby. He's no different despite the soft ski mask he wears to hide his face.

"I take it you're here for Mr. MacTavish?" You asked him, setting down your purse and keys on your desk. He doesn't nod or anything but he doesn't have to. You offer him a soft smile and place a hand on his shoulder. "Can I offer you something to drink? Coffee? Tea?"

"Tea..." His voice is rougher than before from disuse.

You nod and gesture for him to follow you. You lead him down the hall and into a small family room. On the side of the room there's a table with a few beverage heaters and pastries. You pour him a cup of steaming water, then thumb over the organized packets of tea.

"Black? Green?"

"Black."

You rip open the packet and place it in the cup. You offer him sugar and milk but he refuses with a shake of his head. He doesn't touch the pastries either so instead you usher him to follow you once more.

You bring him into the selection room. Caskets and urns line the walls. You can feel Mr. Riley's eyes wander from squarely between your shoulders. You take the opportunity to use your key and unlock the mahogany cabinet at the back of the room.

Inside the cabinet are a handful of different sized velvet bags. You reach for the largest one in the middle of the main shelf. With careful, gentle fingers, you pull down the velvet drawstring bag to reveal a simple urn. It's round, smooth and silver in color. Before you can pick it up, you hear something with significant weight hit the carpeted floor behind you.

You whirl around to find the Lieutenant on his knees. You stop what you're doing and immediately tend to him. You grab at his shoulder and try to keep him upright. If he passes out you'll at least be able to keep him from falling directly on his face.

"Mr. Riley?"

At first it's just sniffles. He covers his entire face with one of his large, broad hands. After a few moments though, he starts to sob. His breath hitches and his voice quavers.

"Mr. Riley?" You ask again, this time softer.

He continues to cry. His body starts to shake and he almost begins to wail. You press a comforting hand between his shoulder blades. All you can really do is comfort him until he's done.

Riley pulls his hand away from his face. He tries to rub the tears off of his lower lashes but it doesn't work. His sobbing slows down but doesn't stop. He seems tired, defeated. His entire body sags with an invisible weight.

"Mr. Riley?" You whisper, patting his back.

He finally breaks from his stupor. He looks up at you with a sort of fear you've only seen a few times in men's eyes. He's being vulnerable and so he believes he's being weak. You're not supposed to see this of him. No one should. You don't agree with that sentiment and never will, so you offer him another soft smile.

Riley shifts on his knees. You think he's going to move to stand. He leans over to you, pressing the side of his face against the meat of your hip. One of his arms wraps around your thighs. He squeezes you tight, like a son would his mother. He doesn't pull away either. He just holds you.

Once again, you're caught off guard. Now this, this is something you've never experienced before. You're unsure. You don't know if you should pry out of his grip or let him continue. He's a large man. You wouldn't want to offend him. He's grieving. He lost his best friend.

You lean over again, patting at his shoulders but moving up towards his head. You cup at his jaw to get his attention.

"I never met Mr. MacTavish, but something tells me he would hate to see you like this." You swallow hard. Sometimes, to support, you realized you need to have a little bite.

"Please, get up Mr. Riley."

Something about your command seems to stir something within him. His eyes grow pointed, his brow lines deepen. He immediately lets go of you like your body heat burns. And with that, hd staggers up off his knees. He refuses to look you in the eye.

Now free, you walk over to the cabinet. You replace the velvet bag around Mr. MacTavish's urn. You glance back at Riley and sigh.

"I know this is hard. Are you sure you want to pick up Mr. MacTavish today?" You hum. "I can call Captain Price to come instead. I'm sure he'd understand."

Riley stands there on shaky ankles still sniffling. He won't meet your eyes. He seems to be thinking hard about your words. He nods once.

You close and lock up the cabinet before escorting Mr. Riley to the lobby. The midday sun casts beautiful shadows across the white walls. The receptionist must've taken her lunch break as it was just the two of you.

"Here's my card. I'm sure you don't need it but um...if you need anything. Need someone to talk to? You can call me anytime." You smiled earnestly, placing the small card in his palm.

"Don't be ashamed, Mr. Riley. It's nor-"

"Simon."

You raised a brow but realized what he meant. You nodded. "Mr. Simon."

"No. Just Simon."

You give him a sheepish smile. "Simon."

He nods back at you, his regular demeanor having seemed to return. He tucks your card away.

"I'll be back for you."

You open your mouth to question him. You can't tell if his words are a threat or simply an odd promise. He's already turned to leave. You watch him walk out of the facilities' glass double doors. He dissappears into the sunlight a moment later.

You feel nervous but you feel...fulfilled? Mr. Rile-er Simon...is a peculiar man. You didn't want for him to break down and cling to you, but the fact he did make your heart swell. You'd always heard comments that you were just that type of person, the kind that even the most closed off people could open up to. For a moment you sat there lost in that thought. You enjoyed the feeling.

Then you had to get back to work.

You picked up the receptionist's phone, pulled a card out of your pocket, and then dialed the number of the Captain scrawled on the back.

[a-998h]

Natlan Festival

The original version of the festival post for my SAGAU series was written before Natlan was released. Now that Natlan is released I decided to write about the festival held for the Creator by Natlan's people. There will be split for tribe specific activities.

Xihuitl Sitlallin Papaqui (Nahuatl: Turquoise Star Celebration)

Time of year: Winter

How Long it Lasts: 21 days/ 3 Weeks

Origins: It started out as a way to the winter solstice and dragons. As the tribes became more connected, traditons were passed around and the festival grew into an intertribal affair.

Week 1

Day 1: Each able bodied member of the tribe prays, leave flower and gem offerings at the tribe's respective shrine.

Nanatzcayan tribe: shrine is built into the side of a nearby the western wall of Tequemecan Valley and leaves offerings of Saurian Claw Succulent and Iridescent Opals.

Meztli tribe shrine is located on a small artificial island and the people leave Sprayfeather Gills and Varunada Lazurite.

Huitztlan tribe shrine is built on a large hill and they leave offerings of Quenpa Berries Nagadus Emerald.

Collective of Plenty tribe shrine is built near the volcanoe and the people leave offerings of Saurian Claw Succulent Agnidus Agate.

The Tlalocan shrine is a small open air temple on a mountain and the people leave offerings of Brilliant Chrysanthemum and Vayuda Turquoise.

The Mictlan tribe shrine is in a secure cave with the people leaving offering of Brilliant Chrysanthemum and Vajrada Amethyst.

Day 2: The tribes gather together to watch act one of a three act performance, which is about different creation myths.

Day 3: Those able to make the trip go to the large shrine in the main city and leave the respective flower and gem offerings, along with food and drink offerings of chocolate, Glittering Gemstones, Tatacos, Strength Tonic, and Xocoatl.

Day 4: The tribes listen to how the Creator gave gifts to the founders of each tribe, and other assorted stories.

Day 5: New plants are planted and mature plants are decorated to thank the land

Day 6: Alters are set up in homes to honor the loved ones, both animal and people, who have passed away

Day 7: People set up a feast to share with the tribe in a potluck fashion

Week 2

Day 8: At sunrise people leave paths of flower petals

Day 9: The tribes come together for the second act of the performance, which is about the Creator's adventures in Natlan.

Day 10: Decorating shrines is a whole tribe affair, using flower garlands, colorful animal figures called alebrijes, which are said to come to life at night and act as shrine guards, and wooden dolls to act as shrine servants.

Day 11: The tribes perform local dances and music.

Day 12: People of all ages have important symbols painted onto themselves

Day 13: People go to the Stadium of Scared Flames for ceremonial battles overseen by the Pyro Archon. The winners from each tribe are titled as Ipixkiuh in Xihuitl Sitlallin (Nahuatl: Guardians of the Turquiose Star).

Day 14: Games are played, often among the children, along with adult foot and saurian racing.

Week 3

Day 15: The main city shrine is decorated by everyone who wants to, with garlands of each tribes flower, alebrijes, and wooden dolls to act as shrine servants

Day 16: The Pyro Archon leads a pseudofuneral for the Creator, which involves the cremation of an effigy, cutting a lock of the effigy's hair, leaving offerings of chocolate and Mora, and dividing the effigy's ashes into six urns for each of the six tribes shrines.

Day 17: The six tribes come together for a large potluck feast, leaving a seat of honor for the Creator, decorating the throne with flowers and a single candle.

Day 18: A day of pray and mourning, lighting candles at the shrines to lead the Creator to the shrines

Day 19: The people of the tribes play games, dance, and play music together, along with having foot races

Day 20: Stories and myths from each tribe are shared with the other tribes, along with jewelry and food.

Day 21: To end the festival, the tribes return to the outdoor stage for the Serpent of Fire Dance while wearing floral skeleton face and body paint.

[aetherialfalmer]

Burial rituals headcanons

Nords obviously held their funerals with burning pyres but they tend to pass down the dead loved ones trusted weapon through the family. Usually the spouse holds the weapon until their children are ready to wield it. After death, the weapon is usually engraved with a personal quote.

Argonians who still hold the hist in high regard, often spread the ashes of their dead loved one in water ways like rivers, streams etc. Their belief is that all water is connected, so their loved one will find their way back to the hist and be reincarnated.

Khajiit when on the road will make custom urns for their fallen loved ones, some even wear small urns to take pieces of them with them. The passed's jewelry is often worn by their surviving family or caravan members as a way to remember them.

Bosmer preserve bones and make sentimental beaded necklaces out of their loved one's bones. The skull was respectfully kept in tact and often sat in an area the family gathered in. It was a way for the deceased to still watch over them.

Vampires, while being a wide variety in themselves, have a similar ritual noticed among the scattered clans of Tamriel. If the clan members can recover their body, the fallen is cremated and scattered before sunrise, so they can see the sun shortly before their soul would be sent to Oblivion.

Much has been lost on the Dwemer but interesting finds have been found in ruins across the land. Rooms that were built to resemble tombs had coffins against the walls. Inside were masks assumed to be worn by the corpse of a dead Dwemer. Each found seems to be personalized as no two have been the exact same. Sadly, mostly just ash have been found in the coffins, the whereabouts of the corpses is yet to be determined. We can guess that it was a similar process Nords went under when becoming draugr, minus being undead tomb caretakers.

The underground Falmer have been noted to have mourning rituals under careful study. The corpse is covered in a putrid oil that wards off hungry charus from digging up the grave and eating it. Then, they work on a grave marker shortly before burial. Instead of their loud shrieks and clicks, those in attendance were noted to make low rumbling and chittering noises.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Some Roman Art Vocabulary

for your next poem/story

Acanthus - a kind of Mediterranean plant with large spreading leaves. It was used as a decorative element on Corinthian capitals and also was a symbol of death.

Amphitheater - an elliptical structure with a central arena for the staging of gladiatorial contests and animal combats.

Apse - a semicircular space within a Roman building. Typically a basilica would have an apse at one end.

Arch - a curved architectural member that spans an opening.

Atrium - the central room of a Roman house. It had a hole in the ceiling and a pool in the center of the floor to catch rainwater.

Aureus - the most valuable Roman coin, made of gold.

Barrel vault - a semicircular ceiling over parallel walls.

Basilica - a building type used for law courts and conducting business, which usually stood in the town forum. It consisted of a long rectangular hall with an apse at one end and three aisles separated by columns. The central aisle had a raised ceiling and clerestory windows. Often the exterior of the building was colonnaded.

Cameo - a relief carved from a stone that has layers of different colors, such as sardonyx.

Capitolium - the main temple for civic worship in Rome and other cities. It was dedicated to the three chief gods, Jupiter, Juno, and Minerva.

Cardo - the name of the north-south street in a Roman town laid out on the grid system.

Cavea - the rounded space of a theater containing seats for the spectators.

Colonnade - a row of columns.

Columbarium - a type of communal building to hold ash urns of the cremated. The name comes from the structure’s resemblance to a dovecote, since the urns, as well as portrait busts, were placed in niches in the walls similar to the nesting spaces in such a birdhouse.

Column - a weight-bearing architectural member that has a base, a cylindrical shaft, and a capital (ornamental top).

Concrete - a building material made of small stones or rubble (aggregate), lime mortar, water, and volcanic sand (pozzolana).

Consuls - the two chief magistrates of the Roman state, elected annually.

Cubiculum - the bedroom of a Roman house.

Damnatio memoriae - a decree by the senate that condemned an emperor and ordered that all images of him and references to him be obliterated.

Decumanus - the principal east-west street of a Roman town laid out on the grid system.

Source ⚜ More: Word Lists

[loveindefinitely]

00. prologue

༊*·˚ ALWAYS HAVE, ALWAYS WILL — task force 141 x reader

featuring. simon 'ghost' riley + johnny 'soap' mactavish + kyle 'gaz' garrick + john 'bravo six' price

warnings. nsfw, fem!reader, slow burn, friends to lovers, drama, action, hurt/comfort, mystery, polyamory, angst, mental health issues, minor character death, angst w a happy ending

series masterlist. read on ao3. fanfic playlist.

You’ve been to more funerals than you can count on your blood-stained hands.

Family, friends, teammates, superiors – at the end of the day, you’ve always found yourself staring at a casket being lowered into the earth. Or an urn.

Sometimes, there’s not enough of the body to bury, or burn. Just an arm, a jawbone, a blood splatter with a trace of ripped hair. Even then, the ceremonies are similar – morose and stagnant with the tension that only comes with grieving humans, merely waiting for the moment that their hourglass will fully tip. For when, they too, will be grieved. Lowered into the ground. Cremated.

If there is such a thing as an afterlife, you’re not too sure that you’ll want to endure more living, when the end goal is such a cruel one.

To love, to cherish, and then to wither away into nothing.

A fucked up joke.

The muddy ground squelches as you take a step back, hands tightly clasped together in front of your chest. Not a prayer, but a gesture similar enough to the patrons around you that you won’t be given a second glance.

Rain falls in thick sheets, but there’s no wind, and most of the people around you are underneath the dark grey marquee set up in front of the ceremony.

You aren’t. There’s something familiar about the clothes soaking your body, your body trembling just slightly from the chill, the dampness. A small punishment for your actions, small enough to not be noticed, but enough to repent just a thousandth of what you owe.

The Funeral Director gives his speech. Some religious nonsense, you’re sure, and the words wash over you like the torrents of rain.

You almost wish they could wash the guilt off of your mind, wash the blood that still feels sticky in your hands.

When you look down, they're pure and clean.

There’s crying. You’re not sure who from, how many, where. All that you register is the sound of gut wrenching heartbreak in the most raw, most physical of forms.

You swallow, once, your throat dry and tongue sticking to the roof of your mouth.

Needles, drugs, passing out, cells, torture –

“Sergeant.”

Even years of military training doesn’t keep you from flinching at the title. Turning your head, you’re greeted by a man that’s never failed to make your blood run cold.

His grey hair sticks to his forehead, his wrinkles highlighted by the dreary, bleak sky.

“General,” you incline your head respectfully. He stands to your right, arms folded behind his back. He’s suited in full black, and your stomach roils at the idea of this man grieving.

“You have been assigned a new unit,” he states, as one would discuss last night’s game over morning tea. “You’re set to leave at eighteen-hundred.”

You nod.

What else is there to do? Get down to your knees and beg for some time off, when you know that’ll leave you rotting in your bed for two weeks? Ask for him to be kind in his placement, because you’re not sure you can handle more of the emotional torment you’ve dealt with over the past three years?

Instead, no words fall from your cold-bitten lips, and your legs don’t buckle.

General Shepherd walks away without a simple ‘I’m sorry for your loss’. You’re sure that even if he had said as such, the words would’ve held no earnesty, no warmth.

It’s perhaps better this way.

So, you stand, and the rain hits your body in a relentless rhythm. So different to the torture of waterboarding, the cruelty of drowning.

Although, you can’t say that the mental whirlwind you’re stuck in the eye of is any less impactful. If you open your mouth, you’re sure that water will flood every crevice, leaving you to scream soundlessly for eternity, death sweeping you in with the turn of the waves.

You wonder, for a single moment, how many grievers would attend your ceremony.

By the time the rain stops, if only for a short period, everyone has left. The marquee’s been taken down, and there’s only you and your guilt left behind to stare at the stone. It takes everything in you to walk to it, your legs almost as weak as your will.

The headstone and rectangle of dirt dedicated to the fallen are both covered in flowers.

Bending down to your knees, you softly place a single blue hyacinth at the base. You allow yourself just a moment to close your eyes, deeply exhale, and revel in your guilt.

When you stand once more, it’s with a renewed strength.

Your Captain would have been proud.

The other seven fallen men – the ones that were under your care to heal – would’ve laughed in your face. You would’ve let them.

Now, you can only hope that their bodies will be found soon, so that they too, can be put to rest beside your Captain.

a/n. jus a VERY short prologue/teaser. this is by far my fav piece i've been writing yet. each chapter will be about 7-9k words long, so it'll take much longer to update, but i'm SO excited for it!! i hope u all will enjoy this journey as much as me :)

[389]

Extremely rare' 3,000-year-old sword discovered in Germany is so well preserved it SHINES, archaeologists say. In 2023, The weapon, believed to be 3,000 years old, was dug up in the small town of Nordlingen last week. Experts were shocked it was so well preserved that it actually shined, despite laying in a grave of three people. The three bodies included a man, woman and teenager, with researchers left puzzled over whether they were related. 'The sword and burial still have to be examined for our archeologists to further classify this find,' said Mathias Pfeil, head of the Bavarian State Office for the Preservation of Monuments. 'But it can already be said now that the preservation is exceptional! A find like this one is really rare.' Despite its age, the sword's zig-zag pattern is still completely visible, punctuated with studs and rivets. While experts believe it was difficult to create, they are convinced it was a real weapon, designed for sharp cuts. At the time, there were just a few European hotspots for trading these types of swords, including southern Germany, north Germany and Denmark. Swords from Nordlingen often belonged to the 'Urns' during this period- distinguished by their custom of cremation during the late Bronze era. While Urnfield culture is believed to have first appeared in northern Italy and eastern-Europe, this reached various other countries such as Germany and Ukraine. Warlike behaviour is thought to have spread through members of this community at the time, just before the Tumulus Culture era commenced. This saw a huge advancement in Bronze weaponry and armour. However, the team remain unsure where this newly-found sword was made and will be investigating further in due course. They even point to 'wandering craftsmen' and imports as a potential source of the sword. The German discovery comes just months after a 3,000-year-old toddler's shoe was found in a north Kent riverbed. Source daily mail website, written by ✍️Lauren Haughey 📸 Bavarian State Office for the Preservation of Monuments

[blueiscoool]

2,300-Year-Old Punic Tomb Complex Found in Malta

A 2,300-year-old Punic tomb was discovered during work in a car park near Mater Dei Hospital in Msida, Malta.

The archaeological discovery was made during trenching works near Mater Dei Hospital while preparing the site for the installation of a new potable water line.

The Superintendence of Cultural Heritage (SCH) has been overseeing the site since the start of the project, ensuring the protection and study of any potential discoveries during development works.

An excavation revealed a chamber hewn out of solid natural rock. After additional examination by the SCH’s on-site archaeology monitors, it was found that the chamber was a component of a larger burial complex.

The discovery consists of three burial chambers, each accessed through a central shaft, characteristic of Punic and Roman tombs. It is thought to have been used for multiple inhumations during the Punic and Roman periods. Remarkably, the entrance to each chamber was sealed with original slabs, and the contents inside included human remains and grave goods.

The burial chambers were meticulously excavated over two weeks by a committed team of SCH archaeologists and osteologists. The human remains were primarily inhumations, with some cremated remains stored in urns. The fact that many of the bones were arranged in a methodical manner raises the possibility that earlier remains were moved to make room for later burials. There were several inhumations in each chamber, with at least six in Chambers 2 and 3 and at least two in Chamber 1. A small collection of grave goods and cremation urns were also discovered, offering important new information about the burial customs of the time.

A team of experts, has been working on site to excavate, document, and interpret the remains, some of which have been transferred to the laboratory of the superintendence for further analysis.

Researchers will examine the remains for evidence of the age, sex, and health of the individuals, and conduct DNA analysis.

“The findings, which include skeletal remains, cremation urns, and other funerary artifacts, provide valuable insight into the ancient community that once inhabited the region. Preliminary analysis indicates a Punic timeline, although some artifacts suggest an extended period of use into the early Roman era,” the Foundation for Medical Services and SCH said.

Efforts are underway to ensure the tomb is retained in its entirety, with plans for permanent controlled access to allow for continued study and preservation of this significant archaeological site.

By Oguz Kayra.

[federalmemorial]

Aria Wheat Keepsake Urn With Velvet Bag

Dark bronze with gold wheat sheaf. Dimensions: 2.9 x 1.9 x 1.9 Inch Capacity: Up to 5 Cubic Inch Crafted of brass; threaded lid for secure closure.

Free Shipping Available

[ramithetradfem]

My prolife stance

1. If the mothers live is in danger and the baby is not viable out of the womb

If the baby is not viable then if the mom dies then the baby will die too. However, if the baby is viable then the baby should be removed and the mother should be treated.

2. If the child would not survive birth due to extreme defects

There are many defects that cause immense pain or extreme struggle for a child. Such as if they can't breathe properly, can't eat, don't have normal brain function. In these cases it's understandable that a parent would not want their child to suffer.

3. Babies conceived from assault are physical evidence of the act.

Getting rid of them only makes the case harder to prove especially with minors. I believe the woman should put them up for adoption if they do not wish to keep them and if they abort then refer to point 8

4. I'm completely against gamete donation and surrogacy and IVF.

Too many cases have come up where people are getting with their own siblings because of gamete donation. Everyone should have the right to know where they came from and many of these places don't want to give up the information of the people that donated the gametes. If someone wants to know who their biological mother is, then they should be allowed to. And with IVF many babies are needlessly aborted because they want to create as many eggs as possible. There's no point in having all of your other babies die just to produce one. It would be better to adopt. As for surrogacy It's completely and utterly not for the child. They don't care about mother and child bonds or about infant trauma. You wouldn't separate a puppy from their mother at birth yet you would separate a human being from their mother at birth and no one sees the problem with this. That baby doesn't know the surrogate isn't their "mother" yet she is the one that they look for when they are born. She is the one that they want and to remove her from that is so cruel to that child.

5. People should be allowed to get sterilized if they want

If someone wants to get sterilized then they should be allowed to. Just as with any other surgery they need to sign whatever paperwork that they need to do to show that this is the decision that they make and they need to stand on that decision. Once a person is a legal adult in their country then they should be allowed to sterilize themselves if they want to. If they regret it then that's on them.

6. Infant adoption should only occur if there are no biological family members that can take them in.

Infants adoption is already traumatic especially when many of these parents take the babies away as soon as they're born in the hospital, these children need their family members and if it's possible to have them go with family it's better for them to do that. Let's not add the fact that many of these families who are looking for babies are extremely manipulative, especially during covid, when many of them were angry that mothers were actually able to provide for their children and thus kept their babies.

7. Birth control and protection should be accessible

Banning birth control would not help mothers keep their babies. We should focus less on trying to stop people from not having children and more on promoting and helping families, especially mothers from preconception to postpartum. If someone does not wish to have children then that's fine, they should be taking the proper steps to not create a baby.

8. Deceased babies should be treated with respect regardless of if their mothers wanted them or not

If in the end a child has to be aborted then that should be treated with respect. They are not medical waste. They are not science experiments. They are babies. They are human beings and should be respected as such. They deserve to be cremated and at least have a small service for them. If you can't do that, then at least give a moment of silence. Small cremation urns like in the photo, or maybe a memorial plaque with each baby's name that can be added. They were not just a clump of cells, they were another human being and if you're going to end their life, at least respect them.

“I knew you before I formed you in your mother’s womb. Before you were born I set you apart and appointed you as my prophet to the nations.” Jeremiah 1:5

[codenamesazanka]

More Masanori.

Got curious about ashes in Japan, and did some research.

For fun, I imagine like, Masanori, with Deku's help, somehow ends up with Spinner's ashes, finally claimed from the Tartarus 2.0 ossuary, probably due to some whim (coming from Deku) near Obon or at the end of the year.

Unfortunately, there's nothing Masanori can do with the ashes: there's no family grave plot Masanori can put them in; kid's got no money to buy one; Iguchi family disowned Spinner, hence them never coming to claim his remains; even if he knows where it is, All Might is kinda uncomfortable giving out the location of the Shimura gravesite to put Spinner in there (and besides, it's really more Nana's husband's family - Kotarou's family isn't buried there, and definitely not Shigaraki); and Masanori himself feels it's kinda weird to keep the ashes with him in his dorm room - and feels sad to let Spinner spend the afterlife in a small one-room space after nearly a lifetime of doing just that.

But that gives Deku the idea to spread the ashes over Mt. Fuji, where he killed and scattered Shigaraki died. But it turns out Mt. Fuji is government or private property, and they would need permission to scatter the ashes. They're unlikely to get a yes, but it also risks exposing Masanori's identity.

(The two of them still end up visiting the site where Deku and Shigaraki's final battle took place. Very awkward as Deku tries to explain to Masanori what truly happened while an memorial/informational sign nearby celebrates the site as the end of the war and the death of Shigaraki/AFO, complete with photos.)

In the end, they end up returning Spinner's ashes back to the Tartarus 2.0 ossuary because there's no place outside to bury him - at least at the moment; maybe once Masanori grows up, he can do something about it.

*

But this misadventure is often how any attempts at 'bonding' between Deku and Masanori ends up. Great material for black comedy. 👌🏼 Does always bring them a tiny bit closer to a mutual understanding tho?

If an inmate dies in prison, families and relatives get notified to retrieve the body. If the family refuses to claim the body, the detention center gives the cremation (the main type of funeral in Japan). Then the ashes and urn is housed in a cemetery or ossuary managed by the Ministry of Justice. [x] [x] [x] [x]

After a cremation, ashes are often entombed/buried in a family grave. It is technically legal in Japan to scatter ashes, but where to do so on land depends local laws on permission from the property owner. Apparently most of Mt. Fuji is owned by shrines/national parks/government, and scatterings are denied, so usually the ashes are scattered at sea in view of Mt. Fuji. [x] [x] [x] [x]

[cyber-phobia]

Hello! I need help looking for a fic, this is a long ask so sorry about that! I'm really desperate to find this fic so I wanna give out as many details as I can remember.

Even if it's deleted it would help a lot of any of you at least had a name or author, as I can try and search for an archive.

Here are some warnings just in case:

// Suicide mentions, child abandonment mentions

I don't exactly remember how the fic started, but I remember that Inko is neglectful in this fic. Hisashi goes to America bc of Izuku's quirklessness, and while he and Inko stay married, as they still love each other, he just wants nothing to do with Izuku. Inko stays but after a while Hisashi starts sending her care packages, with letters he wrote over the years, plushies all that stuff.

She eventually decides to move with Hisashi, but leaves Izuku behind bc "Izuku is old enough to take care of himself" (He's like 14-16?). She pays the apartment's rent and send money for food and such but Izuku stays alone and it affects him badly.

Inko and Hisashi live very happily in America and pretend they don't have a son, but one day Hisashi loses his job and they're forced to make budget cuts, which includes Izuku. They send less and less money to the point where Izuku has to get a job, and then eventually they cut him out.

Izuku due to the very limited money was not able to afford High School and instead started working at a grocery shop, but due to his depression, he ends up losing his job due to not showing up in a week I think?

He decides that he's just tired. Its just not worth it, he will be kicked out soon, so he commits suicide in the bathtub.

That's where the first part of the story ends

If it helps someone identify the fic, then part 2 is:

After finding out Izuku is dead, Inko and Hisashi decide to go back to Japan to make the processes needed. They get Izuku cremated and buy a cheap space in an urn cemetery thing. They don't even put up a photo, just a plaque and the urn.

They go to the Bakugo's to inform them what happened, as they will be going back to America right after. Hisashi is very pissed and doesn't care for Izuku, while Inko feels a little remorse and admits she was a bad mother (She specifically tells Mitsuki "We were bad parents), but otherwise is just ready to leave too.

The Bakugo's had thought Izuku had gone to America with his mom, so they never checked on him, and are obviously pissed about what happened. Inko and Hisashi leave and Katsuki is very upset.

He goes to the cemetery where they put Izuku and feels sad about how barren the whole thing is. Katsuki brings a photo to decorate it a little.

I don't remember what he does later but he shares Izuku's story somehow and it gets popular, with people leaving gifts for Izuku in his grave. It gets to the point that even All Might hears about it and in his small form, visits Izuku to pay his respects.

This part ends in a somewhat happy note talking about how Izuku's grave is filled with the hero merch he loved.

That's it as far as I'm aware. I would really really appreciate any details from this story please!! I can look for an archive myself if it's deleted, I just need a name and/or author.

Thank you so much and I'm sorry for the long post I'm just desperate.

.

[yearningaces]

IF IT AINT TO MUCH TROUBLE. LET ME RIDDLE YOU THis

YOU wrote a fic about nyx's s/o dying and then being buried and him NOT having it

WHAT WOULD HAPPEN if his s/o was cremated? Like they take his s/os body one day, come back sometime later and hand him a vase while being like "well here you go!"

WHAT HAPPENS THEN?!

Oh my God ok so actually it might be easier

If they're buried alone in a grave in a cemetery he will dig down and lay with their corpse, this is established.

While he will mourn the loss of them, how they burned and were scorched in a stone box without anyone who cared around-

He can bury your ashes. Ashes are great for soul(he is stretching so much but let him have this.)

Now, will he get so so emotional having to be the one to observe particles of ash that's so small in comparison to how large you seemed in life?

100%

But he'll find the spot in the forest where you saved him, where you met. He'll dig down so far by the tree that he's etched a heart into the bark of, hell open the container and bit by bit pour it out, as gently as one could.

A small bundle of moss laid overtop so he isn't setting pure dirt on what once was you, similar to a blanket, attempting to tuck you in one last time.

He buried you when the sun rose, never wanting you to go gentle into the night, but wanting you to lay with the bright colors and warmth of the sun rising once more.

He keeps the urn. Not wanting to add it to the soil. It won't decompose the same and he wants to care for your resting place, maybe add some flowers to the soil just over the spot so no one tramples it

And he mourns

[that-gay-jedi]

Sorry to be both random and morbid but like. I don't want to go into the cremulator (bone blender) after cremation, not because it sounds gruesome, but because the end product is so much LESS gruesome than unblended bone-ash that I think it actually reaches a pathological level of death denialism.

It seems so extreme to me that we add a whole extra step to make our remaining matter smooth and uniform and prettified before returning it to the bereaved. When I'm reduced to a jar or box of fire-crumbled bone chips, I want to LOOK like a jar or box of fire-crumbled bone chips. That's not concrete dust or icing sugar, it's skeleton bits. Bone. Former vertebrate. Former person. Not a thing that was never alive, but a thing that has died.

Personally I've only held cremated remains after cremulation, but it seemed to me that last step had destroyed their connection to death. The inoffensive powder no longer said "I am a dead thing." I *wanted* to be clutching a bag of uneven, partially charred bone fragments. I still wish I had.

Removing the elements people may find disturbing about cremated but uncremulated bones also removed their ability to bring comfort, presumably the entire reason for urning them instead of spreading them in the first place. How can you tell this is what's left of someone you loved if it isn't macabre in some way? If you don't acknowledge mortality, you can't acknowledge that any of the dead ever lived.

Without artifacts of the bones' former functional purpose and of the fire which stripped away the flesh (a rounded edge here that must have been part of a ball joint, a particularly big or small fragment there) there is no visceral sense that this was ever part of something alive, that somebody once used those bones to sit and stand and move. There is no sense that when it was undeniable the person you knew and loved no longer did or said or thought any of the things you knew them for (because they no longer did or said or thought anything), you let go of the body that they no longer inhabit. There is nothing to drive home the reality of death, and nothing to connect their death as an event in your life to the future without them you now face.

The anonymity of cremated bones relative to the restoratively treated face of an embalmed corpse doesn't bother me, because both are still very obviously remains of a once-living thing. We do lose our individual identities in death. But the unrecognizability of the fine powder left after cremulation does bug me, because the loss of the realities of death is more disturbing than those realities could ever be. It fast forwards past every unconfortable stage during which the deceased is neither an object nor a living being, straight to a mere keepsake.

Don't smooth away the rough edges. Not of life, and especially not of death.

[aetherialfalmer]

Khajiit misc headcanons

When a caravan member dies, they are cremated and carried in a decorated urn or custom made jewelry urns for their loved ones to carry a piece of them with them.

Khajiits make excellent hair stylists since they have so much hair. They're especially good at crafting oils for ones scalp. To trust a Khajiit with your hair means to them you trust their skills and it can feel like an honor. It isn't uncommon for one stylist to be in a caravan since it's necessity to avoid fur matting during travel.

When young cubs shed their baby teeth, their parents collect the teeth in a small container or locket. To bless their children with the happiness they felt as a child through the teeth.

Sphinx Khajiits wear headdresses to cover their sensitive skin and will have lotions on hand to keep themselves moisturized. They might sell it if they're feel generous but won't share their recipes with just anyone.

When tensions were really high towards the Khajiit race, some Khajiit prisoners were subjected to a grueling torture method to ensure they were "disarmed". Declawing faded out around the time Elsweyr became allies with the Aldmeri Dominion. Their guidebooks state that declawing is not a method to use so casually during an interrogation and to avoid it if they can.

The bigger the Khajiit, the deeper their purs are. Alfiqs obviously have the highest pitch purs. Even the more elven looking khajiit can purr but they seldomly do it in public. Its usually reserved for ones they are affectionate with.