#he also missed her every single day i truly believe he died of heartache. i miss him so so sosoososo much

[ashmp3]

Did i ever tell you guys how my grandpa loved my grandma so much he didn't want her to have just an ordinary grave so he -> made a mausoleum. Did the site drainage (he was civil engineer and specialized in reinforced concrete) and it still stands 26 years later and yes its still adorable.

[docholligay]

Pluto+Tracer, "Lost"

I got like three variations of this and I love you all so much, seriously. I know @thepreciousthing asked for this too, and also an non, I think? ANYWAY HERE IT IS. 1704 words. 

She wandered through time like a human being might wander through a stream. It did not occur to her that it was stange, the way she had learned to walk from one bit of time to the next, to see what stones changed the stream, to watch with interest as human beings built and broke their dams. It was a lonely life, but it was hers, and if only the Moon Kingdom could speak with her, could find her, well then, at least there was that. 

She walked in time and she guarded time, and it was a lonely duty but it was hers, and she resigned herself to it. She loved to watch humanity, in all its strangeness and drama and heartache and triumph. She wished to reach out, to touch them, to be with them. 

The first time she met one was in what might have been 1845, but honestly could have been 100 years in either direction, It was amazing how humans could keep track of such a small thing as a year. A young man, torn out of his own time, flung into the stream, a raging river to them. 

His eyes had been so wide and fearful. Humans couldn’t swim, not really. She had spoken to him, tried to comfort him, and he had died. They always died, she would come to understand. A human was not made to slip through time, as she was, any more than they could breathe on the moon. She wanted to be with them, but not like this, not to watch them suffer and die, unable to be saved. But she always stayed with them. She always comforted them. 

It was only every hundred years, or few months, anyhow. 

She heard her whimpering before she saw her, turning the corner of a time stream. Her eyes were a bright brown, wide and frightened. They were always frightened. Her hair was tossed about her head, slightly shaggy at the edges, and her face was dotted with freckles across her nose and cheeks. A small thing, in a flight suit and soon to die. 

Pluto knelt by her. “It’s all right.” 

“I can’t--” her voice choked out as she trembled, “help--I can’t feel anything. It’s--” 

She shut her eyes tight, and time swirled around her. They couldn’t make out the spaces, the stripes, the patterns. It all came at them at once, Pluto had come to know. A heartbreaking cry. Pluto could not possibly imagine how it felt for them. She wasn’t certain she wanted to know. She simply followed them through time, until their bodies cracked, until their hearts gave way, and told herself that at least they had not gone there alone. 

But this one kept living. It had been days. 

“Lena,” she managed, “my name’s Lena.” 

“It’s a beautiful name,” Pluto smiled, and touched her on the arm, even knowing she wouldn’t feel it, “did you know that it comes from the Greek for ‘light’?” 

She hadn’t known. Humans knew only such a small bit of what there was in this world. They were like ants chewing at a cookie, never imagining the whole. 

A month. She was still suffering, but she was still alive. There was something strange in her, something that refused to bend. To break. A heart that refused to stop. She couldn’t speak much, and so Pluto only learned of her from the places she focused on, managing to skip in the stream, only for a few moments, to something safe, even if she could not touch it.

She was the only child of her single father. Her extended family, on the other hand, was very large. She was a pilot. She had a serious girlfriend. Her mother had died when she was young. She was clearly very loved and cared for, and had enjoyed a happy life before all of this. Pluto wanted to return her to her time. 

Even a woman so strong as she was could not bear this forever. 

Pluto had no idea how to teach a human where to go, how to walk in the stream, so natural to her that she could not conceive of how to explain it any more than she could conceive of teaching someone to breathe. There was a gorilla, who was also a man, in the way that humanity was often complicated, and he was trying to build something that would bring her back. If she could only just guide Lena to it, there might be a chance. 

Could she save one? Would it even be reality to dream that it could be true? 

The suffering of each of them never left her. She witnessed their deaths, so that someone would, and she carried each of them with her as surely as she carried her staff. But, if she could save one, if, over the years and centuries, she could have one victory. Then she could carry that, too. She could remember that she had led someone to life, and not simply helped guide them to death. 

That would be the greatest power she could imagine. 

“Come with me,” she said, and she took Lena by the hand, even knowing it would either nothing at all or harm her, “I can help you.” 

It might have been a lie, she thought. She didn’t know that it was true, but she wanted to believe it oh so badly. She loved her. She loved them all, in her way. 

The man, who was a gorilla, turned on the room, and Pluto could hear that low hum. It was a curious thing, unlike anything she’d ever seen and she instinctively knew that if she stepped inside, she would trapped. This person had managed to damn up time in a way that Pluto had never seen, that frightened and fascinated her. 

She would very much like to speak with him, if she was ever given a pass to join the world. 

Pluto did not watch as she led her into the room. She closed her eyes as she felt her fingertips leave the edge of Lena’s. Even if we can trap her, the re-entry may kill her, the blonde doctor had said, shaking her head as she flipped through a file, I am not knowing what sort of thing it has done to her body. It isn’t possible to know. Pluto could be killing her. Could she live with herself, knowing she had been the one to deal the killing blow? Could she live with herself, knowing she hadn’t tried? The moment of impossible answers was the closest she had ever felt to being human. 

Lena flew into the invention built to capture her, and her scream of anguish chilled Pluto like a winter’s wind. 

She lived. Pluto came to love this impossible woman, the one who should have died, and should have died again, and should have never recovered, and who laughed again, and flew again, and threw her arms around life. Sometimes, she would simply go check on her, see what she was doing. It made her happy. Pluto, for once, had won. She had saved someone, and not simply watched as they died. 

She had told Lena her name meant light, and it was true, that sometimes Pluto warmed herself by it. 

There were tricky years, or tricky days--she was never quite certain which--where there were so many that came to her, and died, heaps of them as she’d never seen. Someone was trying to make Lena, she had pieced together through a few uttered moans and cries. What Pluto had taught her, how to control her space in time, even if she could hold it only for a few seconds at best, was too valuable. 

Pluto had saved Lena, and she had damned so many others to death. Every note of joy had the undercurrent of sorrow. 

She felt Lena return before she saw or heard her. She couldn’t explain how, or why, but she instinctively knew that Lena was broken out of time again, that her chronal accelerator had failed her, and that she would need help to return. Pluto knew that she would help her, before she ever saw her face. 

Frightened, again, broken through with the ice cold of time’s stream, clinging to the shattered remains of her accelerator like she could go home, if only she could piece it back together. Shaking and sobbing, gasping as if time was stealing the air itself from her. 

Pluto thought, a person cannot survive this twice, and then put the thought out of her mind immediately. She would return Lena to her time as quickly as possible, her one victory, and she would not allow herself to give up. It was her light, and she would not extinguish it. 

“Remember,” she gently called to Lena’s shaking form, “Remember, I taught you. We can take you home.” 

Humans can remember such small details, but they very often miss at the larger ones. 

It took weeks. A week even before Lena could hear her voice again, the pleading call of someone who desperately needs one bright thing to continue to be true and real. A week more before Lena could truly listen. It might never have worked, Lena continuing to pop back to places she was loved, to try and find solace in her now-deceased father, in her friendship with the human gorilla, a night out with her cousin. She was in such pain, and so frightened, that she may never have found her wayback, but for an echoing voice that came over the years. 

“Lena. Come home.” 

She really did want to talk to that engineer, and was more annoyed than ever that she wasn’t permitted to walk among them on earth. 

Lena followed his voice, took Pluto’s hand even as it made her shake, and she led Lena back toward where she could be captured, where she could be made safe, and she felt the lights turn on again. Pluto was not simply made to watch. Pluto was not simply made to comfort. Pluto could change things. Pluto could help. 

She led her to the capture point, and released Lena’s hand, and this time, she watched.

[ghafahey]

@mdzswomen Appreciation Week 2: Day 5 — Repentance

Rated:

 G

Pairing:

Lan Yi/Baoshan Sanren

for you: repentance.

Lan Yi sits and waits, her knees cold and her mind a thousand leagues away with the one she loves, even after centuries.

i.

It’s so cold all around her that sometimes she forgets who she was, who she is, who she may never be again.

In the darkest nights, when all around her there’s nothing but a deep pit of emptiness, all she remembers is a pair of dark eyes and a mouth set in a determined line and the silent call to please stay, stay stay stay.

ii.

There’s Lan set into every single frame of his bones. Lan Yi can tell from far away before he even enters the cave she’s been stuck in for centuries. There’s a deep sense of duty, a commitment to justice, a grief that seems too old for his young body. The other one, laughter and smiles and teasing stitched into his skin, is so different that she can’t help but chuckle to herself when he falls into ice-cold water, emerging spluttering and soaked to the bone. But then, her great-great-great-great-something takes off his headband – the sacred headband no one is supposed to touch, well unless… - and binds their wrists together so they can approach her guqin. It makes her falter for a moment, her mind recalling, trying to reach out to someone – far away and still breathing and missing from her like a limb. She doesn’t think they realize the full extent of their fate which has been intertwined so irrevocably now.

  iii.

“Don’t you think,” Baoshan Sanren says, the comb halting on a particularly stubborn knot in the long dark waves of Lan Yi’s hair. Fingers brush her shoulders, clad in pale blue robes, shuddering from the touch. “It’s a bit ridiculous to need a piece of cloth to practice self-restraint.”

Lan Yi raises one eyebrow at her friend in the mirror.

(Friend seems, she muses, too little a word. Not nearly enough, not even right in her mind, no less on her tongue. There’s another, one dripping with a meaning that leaves her lungs empty when she thinks of it and so, she hasn’t dared to voice it just yet.)

(One day, she promises herself, she’ll look Baoshan Sanren in the eyes and tell her, drenched in all the heaviness of her heart. She’ll tell her: “You’re the one I was looking for before I even knew. You’re the one my soul recognized upon our first meeting, down in the forest so close to midnight, your mouth smiling around some fruit and my own tipping up involuntarily. You’re the one I know will understand my every word and doing because I would understand yours too.”)

(But not tonight.)

“I mean, simply, that if that is all it takes for you to practice restraint… does that not in itself deem you weak.”

The knot loosens. Lan Yi turns, eyebrows still raised, and mouth curled in amusement. Their shoulders knock and Baoshan grins down at her, her eyes two pools of mystery it could take a lifetime and more to decode. Their breaths mingle in the small space between them; growing smaller each time, Lan Yi notices, they’re together at night before both retiring to their respective beds.

“Maybe I am,” she muses, her voice a teasing whisper through heavy nighttime air.

Baoshan's eyes flicker, just for a moment, and her mouth twists as if there’s something else to say, something else to do. The moment passes. There’s still a handful of distance between them.

“Personally…,” she rises from where she's been sitting behind Lan Yi, stretching until the joints of her bones crack with a loud pop. “I would like to see you unrestrained.”

 iv.

It’s still cold. Not unbearably so. Not after centuries. But the ice has never been the problem. The problem is hundreds, thousands of leagues away, on a mountain, hidden by green and secret passageways and shrouded in mystery. Still alive, still breathing, still warm from the blood in her bones while Lan Yi herself is a shred of who she once was. Her power fades each day, drains and leaves her more and more a shell unable to reach out towards the mortal realm.

The problem is: there are so many things left unsaid.

The problem is: she had the chance to make a different choice but was too blinded by ambition to listen.

The problem is: the day Lan Yi went against her soul’s mate she left part of herself with her and never got it back. Until then, how will she find peace? Until then, does she even want to?

The problem is, the problem always has been: Baoshan’s laughter and the crinkles that come out around her eyes and her head thrown back in joy and the image of it branded like fire into Lan Yi’s mind.

  v.

He sits and reads and stares, frost between his brows, at the wall.

“We could carve him from stone and put him in a courtyard. He has the face for it.”

Sometimes Baoshan visits her. It’s a hallucination, of course, Lan Yi is a smart woman who doesn’t fall for simple tricks of the mind baked in hope and loneliness. She knows it can only be a hallucination because she hasn’t had the courage to seek her out herself. She makes excuses for preserving energy, for guarding the Yin Iron – yet she knows the familiar feeling of dread and shame pooling in her stomach.

Still, it’s nice to see Baoshan perched on the ice altar next to her guqin, much like the boy one of her disciples gave life to years ago now. In contrast to Wei Ying, no one scolds her for so carelessly sitting down next to the powerful heirloom. In fact, the sight is welcome. She looks exactly like the day Lan Yi last saw her, not a single wrinkle around her eyes or a grey hair in the waterfall of black flowing down her back. Maybe she hasn’t aged after all or maybe Lan Yi’s imagination just doesn’t like to be realistic.

“He is in mourning,” Lan Yi replies gently.

It’s a feeling she knows too intimately herself. But while the boy – a man now, not the young soul who stumbled into this cave years ago and bound himself without thinking, now hardened by war and loss and heartbreak – mourns for the love he lost to death, Lan Yi mourns for the love she lost to life.

“Tell me,” Baoshan says from her place at the altar, not taking her eyes off Lan Wangji and the stiff set of his shoulders while Lan Yi can’t seem to take her eyes off her. “Do those descendants of yours truly think sitting in an ice cave for unbelievable amounts of time will cure one of love?”

Lan Yi had gotten a glimpse of said descendant once, a man set in his principles and beliefs and pride dripping off his mustache. She’s also heard the story that the very same mustache once got shaved off by one of Baoshan Sanren’s disciples, the mother of the man being mourned in these halls. It would not surprise her if that man thinks solitary confinement in the hidden cave of a mountain, blood and scars on your back and your heart in shambles, was the cure to heartache and grief.

"They have not gotten much smarter with the centuries, I fear," she replies after a moment and Baoshan Sanren's lips quirk in a smile she misses more than sunshine on her skin and the smell of flowers. Centuries locked in this place seem suddenly bearable at the sight that once greeted her every day - sometimes mischievous, sometimes gentle and sometimes, dare she hope, loving.

"This one though, I think... he'll be fine." And then the smile dies on the hallucination's lips and suddenly, finally, her eyes meet Lan Yi's across the cave, her gaze so intense that for a few short moments she's fool enough to believe Baoshan is truly here. "He won't have to mourn forever."

  vi.

“Lan Yi,” a hand shakes her awake, not too gently. When she blinks her eyes open, morning light greets her first, then Baoshan’s furrowed brows. Her back and neck ache from the position she fell asleep in, her head on the desk between books and scrolls.

“Oh,” she winces when she straightens again, her back making a painful sound. Baoshan’s hand is still on her shoulder, gripping a little too tightly.

“You fell asleep over this again?” She eyes the contents on the table, then huffs out a breath. Her hand falls from Lan Yi’s shoulder and Lan Yi swallows down the sound of disapproval that forms in her throat. “I should have never told you about the Yin Iron.”

It’s not the first time they’re having this argument, not the first time Baoshan has found her in the library at an early hour, not the first time her eyes have clouded with anger and disappointment like that.

Lan Yi rises, shakes out her shoulders as if that could also shake off her friend’s glare and the cold grip around her heart at having disappointed the most important person in her life.

“I am simply researching a bit,” she says but doesn’t meet Baoshan’s eyes. “There has to be a way to neutralize the Yin Iron, to use it for good.”

Her friend is silent, maybe run out of arguments against her because they keep going in an endless cycle of back-and-forth, neither of them ready to budge, to admit they might be wrong. It’s been weighing on them for months now, slowly carving an abyss between them that has never been there before.

When once they would sit together at night, brushing each other’s hair, sharing stories and laughter and wine, now Lan Yi retires to the library instead and avoids Baoshan’s judging eyes and harsh words.

“Even if there is,” Baoshan admits after a moment, her voice lowered and no longer angry. When Lan Yi looks up she finds the other woman moving closer, her eyes pleading even before she reaches out a hand to grip Lan Yi’s elbow. “Have you even spared a thought to what it might cost you?”

She has. Of course, she has though she has pushed it all away to not be distracted from her goal. This has to work, has to go well, and earn her the respect among the other clan leaders she has always deserved. No matter the cost, she is willing to pay it, she thinks. Has to trust in her own abilities and mind to see this through and come out of it victorious and unscathed and a legend for the future generations to marvel at.

So, she raises her chin and stares Baoshan down. “I am willing to pay that price.”

Her friend swallows and as her eyes lower, so does her hand, falling from Lan Yi’s elbow and once again opening up the chasm between them she was trying to bridge with a simple touch. One that had once brought so much comfort.

“I am not.” She turns as if defeated though her words prove the opposite. “So I hope you will forgive me for praying every night that you never find the Yin Iron’s true location.”

 vii.  

Sometimes, when she curls around herself on the ground and lets the rabbits settle next to her as if she had a need for sleep, her mind flicks through memories like pages of a book. It stays on the good parts often enough, on laughter with wine on her lips, on the comfort of arms wrapped around her, on her name whispered against her neck one night when they had gotten too drunk and lost themselves; on the bright eyes of her disciples when she had instructed them, the girls especially, on the respect some had paid her; on days even longer past when she would be surrounded by her mother and father and brothers for dinner.

Most times it makes her relive the bad parts too, death upon death, insults whispered behind her back but just loud enough for her to hear, the sneer of men thinking themselves above her.

And then, Baoshan’s sword raised against her, the one thing she never thought to live through. It still hurts just as much as that night, no matter her intentions. She’s unable to say anything but her mind screams I thought we were bound for life and death. I thought you would never raise your sword against me. I thought we were destined to stand and fight and live side by side.

It was an illusion perhaps, a dream she had crafted of a reality that could never be true just to console herself that maybe, some version of them had gotten to that part they had always dreamed of.

They didn’t in this life.

In her dreams, which aren't dreams at all because she cannot sleep, a hand runs through her hair and a familiar voice whispers her name, followed by apologies she is so eager to return but can't because she has no voice.

When Lan Yi opens her eyes, still tired, her face wet from snow and tears, it’s to the same cold walls as the last thousand days.

  viii.

There is a wedding happening. Something tells her, maybe a whispered prayer or a flow of energy filled with a particular shade of happiness.

“You were right,” she tells Baoshan Sanren's illusion, who has her head in her lap and her dark hair spread out like a fan. Lan Yi cards her hands through it slowly, gently, savoring the moment that seems so real she feels it pricking behind her eyes. “He did not have to mourn forever.”

Baoshan looks up then and raises a hand to the corner of Lan Yi’s mouth, her thumb gliding over it like a kiss she never dared to press there.

“It was supposed to be us.”

  iv.

Her biggest regret, her biggest dream lives thousands of leagues away on a mountain, secluded and centuries-old and Lan Yi hopes selfishly that she has not been forgotten. That maybe Baoshan Sanren too wakes up sometimes and aches for the love they never spoke but knew too well, for the future they could have had if only, if only…

Locked away in an ice cave is as much repentance for playing at power, for not listening, for breaking the seal on an object that once more has caused so many deaths as it is for taking a knife to the thread that connected her to Baoshan and cutting right through it. She's sure she deserves this.

So, Lan Yi sits and waits and fades slowly and thinks that maybe, once she has gone from this world entirely, she’ll be given another chance.

I’ll get it right this time, she promises.

[sassytspoemsnraps]

I’m literally feeling like I’m living in a dream😇😇😇

⭐️⭐️⭐️My life is like a fairly tale to say the least,

but then as bad as they were at one point I was

“Dancing with the devil” in 🏜 Death Valley🌙🌙🌙

About to tackle my deamons one by one. Head on..

Let that resignate it was a flight situation but I had to

fight I had the strength and courage to look at every

situation and subsequently subjectivity decide. This

was all mere negative thoughts or self conscious

insecurities coming to the surface. The little critics of

your own self. It’s like a sick and twisted game and

your the Joker your playing urself honey. And your

Depriving yourself of what you truly deserve and

what’s out there waiting for you that you were

craving and literally everything that you could ever

asked and hoped for was your reality like your reality

Was about to get better than the dream and you’re

living in a fairytale, Queen of the Underground.

Remind yourself your the one that you very so

created and things were about to get real and I just

had to dig myself out of this after I conquered all my

insecurities and got my Ass back home to heal and

recover from this madness nightmare that it so

quickly turned upside down because you were going

against the timing and the plan that you needed to

go. You wanted to play some more and knowing that

Nothing lasts forever and all good things must come

to an end inevitably but I have not a single regret

because I had to life through each experience to get

me to where I am right now and heal and recover

because that was never for you and part of that being

the reason why you would even fight for something

so much that was it supposed to end up that way did

you guys lived it up and had a good time that you

also add times that we’re not so good but I also

needed those times to realize what I was doing

wrong and never in looking at myself from another 

Perspective and that’s the hard thing to do cause I

never want to believe I’m in the wrong but that

taught me what I needed to learn.. Whether or not he

was telling me the truth or answer my questions it

Was irrelevant because I was still in the wrong

regardless it was a chapter on your journey and those

Extacy eventually come crashing down like a tidal

wave of nightmares and just how quickly things fall

apart when you fight against energy and destiny. I

definitely learned a lot about myself and

relationships and my judgments as well and I do

appreciate all of the great times and I’ll forever have a

special place in my heart for end cure for every

chapter because they helped me realize I was

Allowing to go on. Once I went back home and there

I would rediscover who I was and once I came home

it all just started to Come back together because

there was a comfort in solidarity and self reflection.

And clarity once I refreshed myself what I deserve to

know the whole truth to my purpose and Devine gift

of timeless energy and Realness. I have no regrets

and each lesson I had to learn or relearn again or else

It would continue to come back up and until I was

able to pass the test that was the only way out of it it

was due or die now is the time and could never get

an opportunity again so I knew what I had to do.

and now it s starting to make sense more

Having all these thoughts and questions and not having anyone to turn to going though Some of the heartache on my own sucks but at the same time some of the stuff I needed to do on my own as well as the reflecting and solidarity and just healing and cleanse just a whole refresher because I wasn’t gonna go back to any of that nonsense I was ready to Start my future ends I have a new way of thinking and someone that will complete me more than I could ever even imagine the sweetes and most perfect person for me literally my soulmate my other half see if you want the fairytale then you decide that its really about what you truly want and satisfying to your needs and desires. He gets me in every single way that I never had and silently crave. The rough and hair pulling, biting and just devouring that moment when thier souls finally reconnect being as they were together maybe in another lifetime. Today was the day her dreams came true and she was resdy to start living her life again and finally everything made sense the journey and each lesson and person and situation everything needed to happen to get me here to this very moment and now. I’ll get my fairy tale ending and Man of my Dreams whom will be with me until the end of time until death do us part. True Uplifting Vibrating Magical and Devine ❤️ soul blowong Love and they lived happily ever & hard Times pass we’ll be okay. Together we’ll be alright! Ain’t that the truth. We can conquer the world or destroy it lmao no jk we’re gonna make some babies and make up for the time we lost.

This helped me because she said that no onunderstands because no one walks in your shoes 👠 I never fully understood it at the time but always was in the back of my mind. Well she’s right I just had to allow myself to raise my vibration to the truth and what I deserve As opposed to what I would allow. Consequently at one time things were great but they just slowly got worse it was like a roller coaster but towards the end I was wrestling my demons bringing his out if you’re in the fire feeling it fueling it and all the situations I would create in my head that weren’t even true I would start to believe and then start arguing with me on thoughts I’m not getting paranoid just not knowing what to believe because the truth could be lies and then we Mile I’m the one sabotaging the truth or questioning it because my own insecurities but I hope that there’s no hard feelings just appreciation and gratitude for what happened and how each event pan down and the opportunities that I had to revisit these was once in a lifetime and knowing what I know now it was all worth it it was scary and uncertain and really brave but I was going to risk my for my people and find the truth and fight for what’s right fully deserved and for my sanity in this wicked world where everything‘s not so cookie cut I’m not any safer type of whistle blower but let me tell you the information is out there if you look in the right places and ask the right people you will find it Because you will see it and you won’t even have to question it because you will know once you have that click everything starts to get a lot more real you’re gonna walk through the valley of the shadow of death look at your demons they’re going to challenge you they’re gonna try to drag you down you can’t let that happen that was an old part of you or a part of you that died and no longer exists only in your mind the character you created to play that part in this conundrum of your life but sometimes things get really still and you’re sitting around it’s almost a year two years three years and you need to get out you need to get out of that funk and then you get a taste for life again and you just start to go with it and then it just starts to take you over and you just get so caught up in this fantasy life that’s not real but it’s fun to play and it’s fun to Tesla miss ends test limits and just see where certain nights can take you and just be open minded and in the moment because the thing about that is you only have this moment and that’s the only mom you have and it’s never going to come around again so you have to live embrace it and live it to the fullest it’s one like I was always worried about the past or the future and that gives you just have to be present and except who you truly are and you know the world what what can you throw at me or how can I tackle this today I’m not gonna worry about it because I’m coming to God and when it comes on about it will inevitably be consistent with what you serve so you need to have more respect for yourself and not allow any type of disrespectful remarks or behaviors because you deserve more than that and you don’t know why you let that go on because you were in a dark place and you didn’t know any other way at that point in time and it’s really hard to dig yourself out of it because one after the next excuse after excuse little by little you see the storm sort of brewing and then that’s when lake you know that blender should go on and you should say I am just means I need to rest and recharge or whatever so everyone’s story is different everyone has their faces or favorite things comforts just be around good people don’t let anyone kill your vibe and don’t be afraid to ask questions for skip for what you believe in because you could be leading the way for so many other people that don’t have that choice or they can’t stand up for themselves for that just don’t know how to or have the strength to know you never know and hey if I truly believe something with my whole heart the Universe will conspire to make it happen.🌙

[bobasheebaby]

Here Without You- Learning to Breathe chapter 3

Pairing: Widow Riley (Drake x MC), no pairing yet

Word count: 1,772

Warnings: bone crushing angst, mention of character death, grief, depression

Summary: Riley falls apart as the pregnancy becomes more real.

Song inspiration: Here Without You by 3 Doors Down

A/N: I have no heart because I have crushed it, my chest is now an empty pit that aches from this. That’s my way of telling you this is gonna hurt go grab your comfort drink, a blanket and tissues, you will need it. (Actually this chapter isn’t so horrible but still.)

Series warnings: This series will follow Riley, Liam and Bastien after Drake’s death. It will deal with the grief and pain of losing a loved one. Possible NSFW content to come. Possibly dark. If you click read more you acknowledge you are at least 18 years of age.

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Disclaimer: I don’t own the characters, I’m simply borrowing from PB for a bit.

Riley felt more lost than ever since learning of her pregnancy. What should have been a thing of joy felt like nothing more than a curse. How can I stare at his face every single day and not continue to break?

She felt as though she would forever stay in this state of limbo, never able to truly move on. She wasn’t even sure what moving on looked like. She couldn’t go back to the way things used to be, she wasn’t that person any longer. She was now a woman who knew the most incredible joy and the most heart crushing pain. She was a woman who was forever trapped in a nightmare. Everything she thought she knew had changed in an instant, everywhere she looked stood a cold reminder of what she had lost.

She had been so close to escaping the country that  they together had called home, now she was stranded in the memories, never able to leave. She felt such bone crushing grief and guilt she wasn’t sure she’d ever survive.

She moved as if in a full unfeeling daze. Every action becoming automatic, she felt as though her body and soul were completely disconnected. Every conversation seemed as though she were miles away, the words coming to her in clouded echoes.

She was a prisoner in her own mind as every memory of their happy conversations of their future family played on repeat in her head. He should be here. How could she possibly feel anything other than pain in knowing that he would never get to see or hold their child. Every time she had seen his eyes light up as they talked about the possibility of children seemed so distant, nothing more than a dream. How can he miss this? Her heart broke over and over as she thought of everything he would miss. If we never came back…

She started to regret every choice she made since turning down Liam. If she had turned down his offer of making her a Duchess they never would have become targets. If she had suggested they stay behind in New York instead they would have been far enough away from Anton that he wouldn’t even think of them as a threat.

It felt as though every day there was a new reason to grieve. Her whole future no longer seemed to have endless possibilities, instead it was dim, tainted by darkness. Every shadow held a new surprise, a new reason to feel completely broken beyond repair.

She had wanted nothing more than to completely give up. She no longer had the luxury of simply fading away from being. She already felt like a complete failure, having already put her child at so much risk.

Riley sat unblinking waiting for the doctor to see her. She already knew she’d completely failed both Drake and their child, she was terrified to hear just how badly she had damaged their baby. She didn’t move, her mind playing Drake’s smiling face on repeat as Olivia stood up beside her.

“Where are you going?” Hana questioned, her hands folded neatly in her lap.

“I’m going to talk to the doctor and make sure no one says anything that breaks her further.” She gestured toward her unmoving friend. “She’s been through enough, she doesn’t need any stupid questions that make her think about Drake.”

Hana nodded her head as she watched Riley. She couldn’t imagine how she would react if she was in a similar situation. She didn’t think she would be any stronger than her dear friend. She had heard some members of the court speak of how weak she was, allowing herself to cave and wallow in grief. She knew they would do no better, grace and poise can only get you so far, there is no way to train for grief. She raised her head, giving a small tentative smile as Olivia returned, nodding her head with a satisfied smirk upon her lips.

Riley blindly shuffled into the exam room with her friends and Bastien in tow. When he first told her he’d be replacing her security, she’d been in shock. Sure she didn’t trust Mara could actually keep her safe, yet she never went anywhere, was security even needed? Now she was almost thankful that the same man who had raised Drake was now there to keep an eye on her. It seemed almost fitting that he would be the one to keep her safe now that Drake couldn’t.

She settled on the table, pulling up her top, exposing her still flat abdomen as instructed. Every movement on autopilot, as she stared blankly ahead. She missed the sad smile on the technician’s face, and the warning glare Olivia shot her. Her mind nearly locking her in. If her own thoughts weren’t so painful she might have found it a reprieve from all the pitiful looks she was given, but her mind was her prison and her punishment was seeing Drake’s face on repeat.

She stared ahead at the screen. She felt as though she was in limbo as she waited to see the last piece of her husband appear on the screen. Please be okay, I can’t fail Drake again.  

She barely flinched as the technician squirted cold gel on her exposed stomach. She didn’t blink, her eyes focused on the screen. She fought to see past the smiling face her mind plagued her with since she’d learned she was pregnant.

Hana gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze, a reminder of just how much Drake was missing. He should be here. It should just be me and him waiting to see our child with smiles on our faces. Riley waited with bated breath as the technician slowly glided the wand across her stomach.

Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh.

Riley closed her eyes as the sound of their child’s heartbeat filled the room. She should have felt relief in that moment, but all she felt was intense pain. A single tear slid down her pale cheek as she could swear she heard Drake’s voice mingling with their child’s strong heartbeat. Can you believe we made that? God you’re amazing. I love you so much Riley. Look at our little peanut. You’re a little fighter aren’t you peanut? Just like your momma.

She fought back a sob as she opened her eyes, finally taking in the image of their baby on the screen. It’s so big, and looks so human. She was in awe as she watched their baby wiggle and move on the screen. Maybe they’re okay. For a moment she forgot all the pain and heartache she’d felt as she let herself become lost in watching her last connection to Drake roll and kick on the screen.

“You’re lucky, the baby seems to be very healthy.”

The technicians words pulled her from her momentary reprieve. You’re lucky. Her heart twinged at the words. She didn’t feel lucky, she didn’t think she’d ever feel lucky ever again. She felt as if she was cursed, forever doomed to a life of pain and pity from well meaning friends and strangers. She blinked back tears, missing the way Olivia glared at the technician.

Riley swallowed the painful lump in her throat as the technician gently wiped the gel from her stomach. She slid off the table without a word. Her entire body once again numb. How could I let myself get caught up? She hated that she allowed herself to forget that she would be doing this on her own, the entire reason she’d even missed the fact that she was pregnant. This isn't how it’s supposed to be. How can I ever get used to this life? She’d imagined the smiles and laughs they would have shared more times than she could count. She didn’t want to do this on her own, but this was the life she’d been given. If it weren’t for Liam... Part of her still wished Liam hadn’t said Drake’s name that day, she knew it was selfish to wish their child dead as well, but the pain was too much and she felt she’d never overcome it. If it weren’t for me... She wished she’d told Daniel she was sorry but she couldn’t cover for him that day, then she’d be back in New York, in her shitty apartment working the shitty dive bar, but she wouldn’t feel as though part of her died and she was cursed to live half a life.

Riley jumped when she felt the warm hand on her shoulder. She looked around stunned, she hadn’t even noticed when she’d gotten back into the SUV, let alone realized they’d made it home. Home, it didn’t feel like the home she had dreamed they’d have. Instead of being full of love, laughter and life, it was cold, dark and felt as welcoming as a dank dungeon. Bastien gave her a small sad smile, she wanted to shout at him, demand he stop feeling pity for her, but she knew it was as much for him and it was for her. He was grieving too, so is Liam. No it’s his fault, he doesn’t get to grieve. She gave him a tentative smile. She wasn’t sure she’d ever have a reason to smile so big that her entire face lit up and her cheeks hurt. No, her life would forever be filled with sadness and forced smiles. God forbid I actually grieve and be sad. It felt as though only her group of friends understood her grief, the rest of the country seemed to want to her be ready to move on with a smile plastered on her face.

Bastien watched Riley return to her room, once again locking herself away with her grief. He understood her pain, he’d seen it before with Drake’s mother, though she’d allowed it to break her and ran at the first chance she could. He knew Riley had wanted to do the same, but he also saw the same strength in her he had in Drake. She can get through this, she just needs understanding and time.

His heart broke each time he saw a tear streak down her porcelain cheek. I’m the reason she feels so much pain. I should have known Justin wasn’t who he said. He’d allowed Anton the chance to get close and learn the ins and outs of palace security. He’d made adjustments once they’d discovered who Anton really was, but by then it was far too late. He’d failed Drake, he’d failed Riley, he failed their child, but he wouldn’t fail anyone again.

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[rather-impertinent]

My Love, It Kills Me Slowly

A/N: work was super busy this week so I missed the S2, 3 & 4 days of @fuckyeahdwightcaroline’s week so I decided to belatedly write a series of angsty drabbles from Dwight and Caroline’s POV during their 3 separations. Happy Sunday I guess friends lmao. Sorry xo

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Season 2

Dwight sat at the modest wooden table in his quaint cliffside cottage, his untouched plate of food discarded to his right. He could not eat. The pain was too much. The heartache was sickening, the fact it was of his own stubborn devising only made it churn in his stomach more steadfastly. He glanced at the flickering candle on the windowsill and a wave of sickness washed over him again. Caroline had bought him that candle, had insisted the ones he had were not robust enough for what remained of the winter. Just last week he had walked home and noted it lit as he passed the window. She had lit it, had come inside unannounced, had made herself at home, had welcomed him as a wife would, had kissed him fiercely, had talked of their impending elopement... that was nine days ago. And now all was lost. In the space of nine days - nine hours, even - all was lost. He blew and spat out the flickering flame until it gently died. He then trudged up the creaking stairs to his lonesome bed, falling into it without much care for the ancient wood which held it aloft, and wished the world would go away.

****

Caroline twirled once more in the mirror, her pretty lilac and purple gown swaying gently at the motion. She excitedly showed her aunt, who hummed her approval, and Caroline’s friend Ada had joined her in a game of blackjack earlier and complimented the dress. And still it was not enough. Caroline knew what it was missing, knew and did not want to accept the truth. It was missing the appreciative gaze of one Dr Dwight Enys. She could almost see the twinkle in his eye, the bashful blush on his cheeks, hear his complimentary murmurs, feel his roaming hands about her waist...

Perhaps there was still time.

Caroline sat at her desk and grasped a piece of parchment, her inky quill pausing a few millimetres above it, her mind racing. What was truly left to say? To apologise when she had done no wrong was unladylike; to beg would be unladylike. Dwight had explained his absence and explained it well, but in reading between the lines Caroline could not shake the feeling that she would never come first in his life, no matter how sorry he was. She deserved to come first, she was beautiful, well-bred, wealthy beyond measure, educated... Yes, some Lord or other would put her first. But would it not be better to be second in such a wonderful, devoted man’s life, than to not be in it at all?

She would never know; they would never know. She put down her quill and walked away, in search of a different gown.

— — —

Season 3

Caroline reached out her hand, her palm smoothing over the cold linen. Always it was cold. Would it ever be warm? Would Dwight ever return to her? Would she ever again feel the warmth of his body pressed against her own? She thought back to that night in the inn; the rickety bed, the murmured devotions, the breaking of the rules, their fingers and legs intertwined beneath the soft linen.

Caroline squeezed her eyes shut, a tear sneaking out and tickling her nose as it slowly trickled down it. The reluctant tear seemed to mimic time: it was reluctant; reluctant to pass by, reluctant to bring Dwight back to her - back to them all. The clock struck midnight, chiming loudly on the mantle-place. Another day had passed, one day closer to bringing him home. He would come home, wouldn’t he? The chiming clock also served as a bitter reminder that time was running out, if tales of the prison’s conditions were to be believed. But she must not dwell on that now, she must sleep, to be awake was to live in a nightmare. Caroline withdrew her hand and turned over.

****

Surgeon-Lieutenant Enys lay in the fetal position, his head resting on the rough, rank ground. The world buzzed, blurred and hissed around him. Lieutenant Williams lay dead - murdered - not six feet away from him, through his bleary vision he could see the man’s limp hand, could smell his freshly-spilled blood. Dwight would sell his soul to the Devil himself if only it meant he could feel the soothing sensation of Caroline’s touch, see her face, hear her voice for one moment, for one last time.

His stinging eyelids drooped from clinical exhaustion as he desperately fought off his haunting dreams. Instead, he pictured her face and she was smiling, his favourite memory: their lips had just parted following his solemn vow to return to her; her delicate hand lay atop his, her gleaming wedding band cast rainbows throughout the Nampara bedroom. Her face was so vivid she might have been laying down beside him. She was the only thing that seemed real anymore.

A single, hot, tear trickled down his face and a twisting, agonising, knot formed in his stomach. He parted his cracked lips and faintly said, "I fear I may break my promise to you, my love. Forgive me. Forgive me."

— — —

Season 4

The sound of the blazing, crackling fire was the only sound the house had heard in two days save for the trudging of his boots about the place. Dwight sat in an armchair in his study, scowling into the bright fire. Life had dealt him a bitter hand - the most bitter hand - and he did not want to accept it, he wanted to fold, to play a different game altogether. But that was not his decision; only God could make that decision. And God had made the decision that Sarah would be a more fitting angel than a human being. Another thing Dwight could not accept.

And Caroline, too, was gone, was halfway to London. He could not blame her; he could hardly bear to remain here himself. But someone must. It was their home, after all, and, he trusted, would be so again one day. Though not for a while, he feared.

Dwight poured himself yet another brandy, the once-full decanter quickly depleting since his return from his rounds. Their presence haunted the house, haunted every corner of it. Behind him, on the rug, Sarah had crawled for the first time, in the next room he could hear Caroline’s laughter whenever he walked by it, in the gardens he saw them both marvelling at the freshly-bloomed flowers, in their bedroom...

Their bedroom.

It was empty, bare, intolerable without them, without Caroline’s shoes strewn about the floor, without Sarah’s crib, without her toy box, without Caroline’s jewellery on the vanity. And their bed was so cold without her in it he could hardly bear to lie in it. Most nights he slept here, or at Nampara, he found the presence of Jeremy and Clowance comforting some days, unbearable the next. Today was the latter. Today, only Sarah’s comforting presence would do, and she was not here, could never be here again. The decanter was now empty.

****

Caroline sat perilously close to the edge of her London bed, Sarah’s delicate bonnet resting in her limp, heavy hands. Her bleary eyes narrowed at the harsh light of day as a realisation dawned on her: she needed Dwight, and he needed her, too. The most awful thing of all was that no matter how much they needed each other they could not now help each other.

Not yet.

Every glance, every touch burned her skin, pierced her heart. His eyes were just like Sarah’s, exactly the same, she could not bear to look at him and could simultaneously not bear to be without him.

But her demons still remained, still latched onto her chest, feeding off her, depleting her off all her energy, every ounce of happiness she had ever known until she felt almost nothing. The only feeling that remained was loss, and she felt it keenly. Would it ever go away? It must, she must return to Dwight eventually, she wanted to, but she could not yet. He would not thank her for returning with her demons still intact. Perhaps they would even latch onto him, and the thought alone terrified her. Her grief terrified her; she never supposed she could feel anything so deeply, so harshly, it consumed her being in same way love had. But it was stronger than love, more insistent, more stubborn, more cruel.

The only thing to do was to drink until she could feel it no more. Ross had warned her she would drink herself to death. It did not carry the weight he had hoped: death would be a release for her. But it would not be so for Dwight, it would only add shackles to his feet, and the key to the gaol they now both lived in would be thrown away. But drink she must, for it would bring relief. Or release. She shakily brought a glass of port to her quivering lips and thought of her husband and daughter.

Relief, relief, relief.

[hangonimevolving]

Beyond the beyond.

It has been a season of heartache and life lessons around here.

My last post was about my dad’s coronary bypass surgery, which obviously was a very nerve-wracking and sobering experience for our entire family.  I am happy to report that today, about 7 weeks post-surgery, my father is doing well, is getting better and stronger each day, and has even returned to his work, which he loves and which keeps him going in life.  I am grateful for this.

But amidst my dad’s recovery from a life-altering illness and surgery, my family has experienced another shock and heartbreaking loss.  

On October 2nd, less than 3 weeks following my dad’s discharge from the hospital, my beloved uncle Marley was rushed to the hospital for difficulty breathing.  I wrote about Marley in my last post, and how prior to my dad’s heart attack and hospitalization, I was actually more worried about him because he has been in declining health for some years, and was looking pretty frail when I last spent significant time with him in August.  During my visit home in September to help my dad recuperate, I spent many days with Marley, who was instrumental in helping my mother get my dad to the ER when he initially showed signs of illness, and helped connect my dad with the cardiologist and the vascular surgeon who would eventually see him through his LAD stunting and bypass procedures.  Marley was there to support my mom through it all emotionally, and to provide a listening ear and his own professional connections when needed, as well as important doses of humor and good spirits whenever they were warranted.  So it was a huge punch in the gut to hear that after all the kind and generous help he’d given us in a time of need, that he was now suffering with shortness of breath and needed to go to the hospital.  

Marley was admitted to the ICU immediately and put on a CPAP machine to help him try and breathe more effectively, but unfortunately it wasn’t enough to help him, and it soon became clear that he’d need to be intubated and put on a ventilator.  He, his wife and daughters, as well as my mom were all present throughout these medical decisions and conversations, and it was a heartbreakingly emotional experience because it was fairly clear that if he were to go on the ventilator, there was a real possibility he’d never come off of it.  Marley has suffered for many years from interstitial lung disease, and was now being diagnosed with some sort of pneumonia or infection that was making his scarred and damaged lungs even more ineffective at breathing.  

About 24 hours after his admission, Marley was sedated and tubed, and placed on the vent.  Thankfully, his wife and younger daughter (both physicians and residents of New Orleans) were at his side throughout, and his elder daughter (a psychologist) was able to fly down from Washington DC to see and speak with her father before he was tubed.  Everyone was beside themselves, but they knew the only chance he had for recovery was to be intubated and put on mechanical ventilation, so that his body could conserve energy to try and fight the infection and recover.

Days went by, and sadly, Marley did not show enough signs of improvement to be taken off the vent.  About a week later, another blow came - Marley suffered a stroke on the right side of his brain, which while not disastrous since he is right-handed/left-brained, was still a significant blow.  His left leg and arm were knocked out, unable to move, and it was clear that he would only have a chance of recovery of his leg if he were to heal completely from the lung issues and then engage in a rigorous course of rehab.  But that wasn’t happening.  The average length of time that a patient can be intubated and ventilated is about 10-14 days, and the window was soon approaching where decisions would be made.  The family considered placement of a tracheostomy which would entail a more permanent tube inserted directly to his windpipe from his neck, which would allow for the removal of the tube in his mouth.  He would remain on the ventilator machine this way.  But in doing this, he would also have to get a PEG to allow him to receive nutrition; he would not be able to consume food by mouth.  The risks and effects on quality of life of these different procedures and medical accoutrement are considerable.  Just when all of these options were being considered, Marley found a way to communicate, even while intubated and ventilated.  He made it clear to the family that he did not want to live any longer under these conditions. 

Hearing him express this sentiment was like a knife through the heart - but we all understood his feelings as well.  Marley is himself an experienced physician, a world-renowned expert on Parkinson’s disease with over 50 years of time caring for patients, and he knew exactly what he was talking about.  The way he lived his life, the joy and spirit that he always exuded, and the humor and cheer that he spread around him came with a very incisive, often irreverent honesty about his opinions on things.  On MANY, many occasions, he had shared with me and everyone close to him that he would never want to live under such circumstances.  So we all knew that he wasn’t making this decision in the spur of the moment or under duress; this was truly the way he felt. 

The entire family literally flew to his side the day after he made his wishes clear. Every single one of us, his nieces and nephews, traveled from around the country to visit Marley in the ICU and say our goodbyes to him.  It was pretty much the most gut-wrenching thing I’ve ever endured - but there was no way we could NOT go.  He saw each and every one of us, communicated with us with his eyes and mouthing words, held our hands, and we lavished him with hugs and kisses, hand squeezes, and lots of loving words.  For my part, I took a 6 am flight on Saturday, October 11 and Lyfted it with my sister directly to the hospital, spent a few hours with him, then Lyfted it back in time for a 9:45 pm flight home to Florida.  It was quite a day.

Marley was extubated at 10 am on Sunday, October 13, 2019.  He died around 7 pm, surrounded by his wife and daughters, and made comfortable by a wonderful team of palliative care physicians and professionals.  

Around that same time, in Miami, Dr. Spouse and the kids encouraged me to take a walk outside, where we were greeted with this sight.

Marley was cremated on Friday, October 18, and a number of rituals and ceremonies were performed by his wife, daughters, and my uncle R, in accordance with Hindu tradition.  I was not able to be present for these events, but later that evening, Dr. Spouse, the kids and I all flew into New Orleans for the weekend.  

The memorial service was held on Saturday, October 19, and I don't know exactly how many people were in attendance, but if I had to guess, I’d say it was a few hundred.  He was so loved, and by so many - members of the family, the Indian community of New Orleans and other parts of the country, his community of colleagues and friends locally, and dozens of patients from his Parkinson’s support groups all came to pay their respects and offer their condolences to us all.  It was a bittersweet experience, to see how many folks shared our grief.

My aunt and cousins asked me to be the MC of the memorial service, and I don’t think I will ever be so deeply honored in my life as I was, to perform this duty in my uncle’s memory.

We arranged for the kids to be watched at my parents’ house in New Orleans during the memorial - my two kids along with my sister Rithers’ kids H2O and NiNi,, and my cousin Neets’ daughters S and M.  Later that evening, Marley’s wife, my aunt Shreeks, hosted the entire family at a gathering at her house, where an Indian community member and friend who owns several restaurants in the city had generously donated dinner for us all.  Shreeks and her daughters had requested that each of us come to the dinner prepared with a few funny and lighthearted videos of our kids, so we could have a short and hilarious film festival after dinner to help lighten our spirits and take our minds off of our grief for a few minutes.  It was a poignant gathering - the last time we’d all been together was back in August, only a few short weeks earlier, for Marley and Shreeks’ 50th anniversary party.  It was hard to believe that we were now sitting there without him.  But we did our best to enjoy each others’ company and carry on with our family traditions of joking and laughing together - I think we all can agree that its what he would have wanted.  

In Hindu ritual tradition, the thirteenth day after a person’s death is highly significant, and a number of important rituals take place on this day to honor the person’s journey from a member of the living family, to the installation of that person in the panoply of ancestors that watches over the family as guardians and protectors.  I wasn’t able to be present in New Orleans for this day, Friday, the 25th of October, but it was at the forefront of my mind when I went to bed the night before, and it was the first thing I thought of when I woke up. As soon as my eyes opened on this morning, I was aware of the fact that the sun had already risen, yet it was raining heavily.  I jumped out of bed and ran to the double doors in my bedroom that open up to my backyard, with its pool deck overlooking the lake behind our house.  And I was greeted with this sight:

All these rainbows.  I’ve never seen so many, in such vibrant color, in such a short time.  But here they are.  Each time I see one, I think three things:

1)  Oh, how beautiful.

2)  I’m going to miss Marley.

3)  Man - there he goes again, championing the liberal agenda.  You do you, Marley!  Love ya!  :)  (Marley was a bleeding heart liberal, a registered Democrat, and a kindred political spirit and role model to me)

Of course, the fourth and most poignant thought I have, and one that I hope is true - I imagine that Marley is being greeted in the Heavens by his parents, my grandfather and grandmother, and his sister JM, who tragically died in 1973 at the age of 24 during childbirth.  My grandmother and JM were both avid producers of kolams and rangolis - the South Indian artistic tradition of decorating the home’s threshold with colorful rice flour patterns, as a means of welcoming people into the house.  I imagine them both in the heavens, making spectacular kolams to welcome Marley home.  

My aunt had asked me to help find a meaningful passage or excerpt from the Buddhist to be read at the memorial service.  Although ultimately, the decision was made to read another excerpt, this one had really spoken to me about Marley.

selected excerpts from the Buddhist “Dhammapada”, book 26: The True Master

Wanting nothing With all your heart Stop the stream. When the world dissolves Everything becomes clear. Go beyond This way or that way, To the farther shore Where the world dissolves And everything becomes clear. Beyond this shore And the farthest shore, Beyond the beyond, Where there is no beginning, No end. Without fear, go. Meditate. Live purely. Be quiet. Do your work, with mastery.

...

Like water on the leaf of a lotus flower Or a mustard seed on the point of a needle, He does not cling. For he has reached the end of sorrow And has laid down his burden.

...

He wants nothing from this world And nothing from the next. He is free. Desiring nothing, doubting nothing, Beyond judgment and sorrow And the pleasures of the senses, He has moved beyond time. He is pure and free. ... Desire has left him, Never to return. Sorrow has left him, Never to return. He is calm. In him the seed of renewing life Has been consumed. He has conquered all the inner worlds. ... In him there is no yesterday, No tomorrow, No today. Possessing nothing, Wanting nothing. He is full of power. Fearless, wise, exalted. He has vanquished all things. He sees by virtue of his purity. ... He has come to the end of the way. All that he had to do, he has done. And now he is one.

I am writing a longer and more personal essay about what Marley has meant to me throughout my life.  It is filled with memories and episodes involving him from throughout my childhood, adolescence and adulthood, and really speaks to his wit, sensitivity, humor, intelligence, and trust that he had in me, and all his nieces and nephews, at a time when men of his generation and from his background were not necessarily known for their ability to engage with kids in an emotionally intelligent capacity like this.  I will definitely post the essay here, but I am going to try and get it published online somewhere else that might have more reach to speak to those who have been touched by Marley’s life.  I will update about this.

But for now, here are a smattering of pictures of Marley from the last few years - walking me down the aisle at my wedding along with his brother, my other uncle R.  Holding 3-month-old Vev.  Engaging both my kids with funny monkey videos on his iPhone just last summer.   Together with his siblings - my mom Ajima/VJ, my uncle R and my aunt VT.  Goofing around with my grandma, his mom J, before my cousin’s wedding a few years ago.  I imagine the two of them sitting on a sofa together somewhere up in Heaven, joking around and laughing, the Saints game probably on in the background.  At least, I hope so.

Marley - I am going to miss you so very much.  I am not sure how we are going to go on without you.  You were my uncle, and like another father to me - but you were also my mentor, cheerleader, comedic guru, and friend.  I will love you forever.

[slayxwolf]

Isaac Lahey Imagine- If I Die Young

Masterlist

Request: Can you do an imagine where the reader is dating Isaac and when they’re fighting the Nogitsune she dies instead of Aiden. Sorry if this isn't a lot to go on I’m just in the mood for heartbreak. 

Word Count: 2,377

The last day of your life, at seventeen. Death is unavoidable, but it came too soon for Y/F/N. Of course you knew your time was limited, like everyone else’s on earth but yet still it’s a shock when it happens to the people we hold close to our hearts. You never know what day could be your last and sometimes that never quite sinks in.

“I'm here to save my best friend” Allison said firmly, you’d always admire her for her strength. “Remember what we agreed?” Isaac asked sternly. “I'm not waiting in the car, I'm not sitting around doing nothing while two of my best friends are in there dying!” you exclaimed, forever feeling like a liability. “I promised to keep you safe, get in the car now!” he shouted. “You know what, fuck you Isaac!” you didn't know where that anger came from, but you knew deep down he was doing the best he could to protect you. Regardless, you stormed back into the car and slammed the door shut, Isaac locking it behind you. He blew a kiss at you through the window, you rolled your eyes but pretended to catch it anyway with an involuntary smile on your face. They all then split off, some to find Lydia and Stiles, some to help fight off the Oni. You were sitting in the car for what seemed like hours, hearing the sound of growls and swords. That's when you saw Ethan, Aiden and Derek walking towards Void Stiles, who was guarded by more Oni soldiers. “Silver kills them!” you heard Allison shout, but you noticed the other three didn't hear as they began to fight. Without hesitation you began to pull on the door handle but you were completely locked in. You noticed one of the windows at the back was slightly open and so easier to break, you climbed over and began to kick it with all your force until it eventually smashed. You then proceeded to climb out, ignoring the cuts you got from the shattered glass. You pried open the trunk of the car and took out one of Argent’s guns and ensured you picked up the silver bullets, you loaded it before following the three of them. 

“Y/n! Get out of here!” Derek shouted, as a sword sliced his back. You ignored him and ran down the stairs before shooting the Oni in the chest and watched as it immersed into green smoke. The four of you shared a small moment of optimism and hope, until the worst thing imaginable happened. “Y/n move” Aiden shouted, but it was too late. They watched as a sword was being pulled from your stomach, before Void Stiles and the remaining Oni disappeared. Derek managed to catch you as you fell to the ground. It didn't hurt and that's what scared you. Allison and Kira ran down to you all, both of them beyond devastated by what they were seeing. “Oh my god” Allison gasped, covering her mouth with the sleeve of her jacket as she stood there crying at your motionless body. Lydia’s shill scream echoed through the heads of the werewolves, before her, Scott and Isaac ran out of the building. “No” Isaac said with a weak whisper upon seeing everyone crying around someone. “NO!” He shouted as he ran down the stairs to you. He dropped onto his knees as his heart sank, he cradled you in his arms as Derek stood up. Scott and Lydia walked over hand in hand, joining the others during such a sombre moment in all of your lives. Your shaky hand reached out and cupped Isaac’s cheek, as his tears dripped down his face. You smiled softly, but this time it was different, your face smiled but your eyes did not. “Please don't leave me” he cried. “I love you, Isaac Lahey” you managed to say. “I love you” he said softly as you took your last breath. He began screaming your name as your eyes fluttered closed, he clung onto your body until he had to be pried off hours later by the paramedics, but it was already too late. You were gone. 

Isaac slowly approached the front of the church, a crumpled piece of paper in his hand. He unravelled it and swallowed thickly before beginning the speech he never thought he’d have to give for the girl he loved. “The hardest part of losing someone isn't having to say goodbye but having to live without them. Spending the rest of your own life, trying to fill the void and emptiness that's left in your heart as theirs stops beating. Before I met Y/n my life was grey and I was lost in an abyss of nothingness, but she brought colour to my life and feelings I thought I'd never experience and now I watch as that colour slowly fades back to grey- because I'm nothing without her. Death no longer scares me, but a life without her does. Believe me when I say, not a second goes by where I don't think about that day. The day I lost the one person that has loved me as much as I loved them. Y/n gave me so many memories, some of my happiest and saddest but I wouldn't change a single moment of them. I wish I would have told her this while, while- she was still alive. Death leaves a heartache that no one can heal but love leaves a memory no one can ever steal. I love you Y/F/N, I always have and I always will and I hope you find peace and a way to forgive me” Isaac began to get chocked up, until he couldn't say anything more. He wiped his eyes and left the stand, hanging his head with the emotions he felt.

When Isaac arrived back in his seat, he zoned out and remembered the exact moment he realised he loved you. His dad had just beat the crap out of him and you heard from next door. You opened your bedroom window and climbed onto the part of the roof that connected both of your houses together. He was already sitting there, his head in his hands. You didn't need to say anything, you just needed to be the shoulder he would cry on. “Shhh” you soothed as you heard a sob escape his mouth. “I hate him, so fucking much” he whispered harshly. “Come on” you said, lifting his head up. “What?” he asked, looking at you quizzically. “We’re going out” you told. “It’s 1am?” he said confused. “So?” you said with a smirk, taking his hand and helping him up. He shook his head and smiled, before going down the drainpipe. You followed shortly behind and he caught you as you got close to the floor. “Where are we going exactly?” he questioned. “Anywhere” you claimed. 

After half an hour of aimlessly wondering around the streets of Beacon Hills you came across an empty park, you’d been there a few times when you were younger. You guided him over to the swing set and sat down, gently rocking. “Y/n” he suddenly said, you could tell by the tone of his voice that something was bothering him. “Yeah?” you asked, looking at him. “You’re the only person that's been there for me, through all the shit that's happened in my life and I don't think I’ve ever thanked you for it” he rambled. “You don't have to thank me, because I know how much it means to you” you smiled sympathetically. Sometimes his eyes reflected the sorrow he felt and it was truly upsetting to see. “I'm always going to be here. Forever and always” you continued, a promise you made when his mom passed away. In that moment, he realised something that had literally been staring him in the face. “I love you, as more than a best friend” he randomly blurted out. You couldn't ignore the goosebumps that rose on your skin or the missed beat by your heart as you stared back at him. “I do too, but-” you began. “But as a friend” he finished for you, as his head dropped. “As more than a friend actually, but we’ll never be anything more” you claimed, sadness in your voice. “Why are you afraid to love me? Because everyone else I've loved dies, moves away or ends up hating me?” his biggest fear was always rejection. “I’m not afraid to love you Isaac. I'm only afraid to lose you” you said softly. “You won’t lose me, we’ve been best friends for years and you’ve still got me” he cupped your cheeks gently. ”I just don't want things to change” your voice cracked as you looked up at his eyes. “Change can be a good thing” he barely finished his sentence before you pressed your lips to his and wrapped your arms around his neck, like you were never going to let go. It was worth the wait, but who knew he would be your first and last love?

With the last of Lydia’s strength through all of her hurt, she stood up and approached the front with Allison. You had been friends forever and it was a horrible feeling having to let go of someone you thought would be with you forever, with the supernatural involved or not this was never how it was supposed to end. They began their speech together, taking it in turns to say something about your loss. “Your life still matters, even when you're gone. Y/n still matters, she always has and she always will.The good die young because God needs them. He needs her but so do we, I need her. Goodbyes hurt the most when people leave without saying them, and we all have to learn to accept that we’ll never hear one or have the chance to say goodbye for the last time. She was too pure for this hell we call life, but she was also too young to be taken so soon in such a tragic way. Today is one of those days where I wish I was a little girl, who could just crawl into my mother’s lap and cry until the hurt goes away. But I cant and even then I don't believe the pain will ever go away. Y/n was a beautiful girl and I know she wouldn't want to see us mourn forever. She was a firm believer in moving forward and as hard as it is, we have to try and do the same, if not for us then for her. Her memory will forever live on and a piece of her extraordinary soul will be embedded in each of us. Thank you” Allison and Lydia were unable to fight back the tears as they walked back to their seats. They took their places beside Scott and Stiles and every pack member was met with their memories of you playing over in their minds, for the rest of your funeral.

Four Months Later

Lydia finished arranging a bunch of your favourite flowers on your grave, before standing up and meeting Allison’s tight embrace. There everyone stood: Scott, Stiles, Kira, Lydia, Allison, Ethan, Aiden, Derek- and Isaac. They visited you every chance they got, sometimes they’d visit on their own and talk to your gravestone for hours or they’d bring a fresh bunch of flowers. “I miss her” Stiles announced. He smiled for a second, remembering the time you would make him dress up as a princess when you were little, despite his protests. “We all do” Scott continued, remembering all the times you’d let him vent his anger to you, just before a full moon, to stop him from doing anything crazy. “Are you guys ready?” Kira asked softly, she hadn't known you long but you had a huge impact on her life. They all said goodbye to you, before heading back to their cars. “You coming?” Derek asked, noticing Isaac was still kneeling on the floor. “I’ll meet up with you guys later” he said. He waited until the others left to place a necklace down. Before you died, he had one engraved to celebrate your anniversary but he never had the chance to give it to you. For months it was sitting on his desk, but his grief was eating away at him. He stayed there for hours after. Some people thought Isaac never got over your death, others say he never will. But for now he clung to the image of being reunited with you one day, where you will be together. Forever.

I don't know if I like this, thoughts? Requests are closed for now x