at last i feel my burden lifting

Queen of Peace: ONE

No Light//story page (banner by eriza)

one: always does her best to please

No good news came at four in the morning. Florence knew that. Harry knew that. The entire world accepted it as truth. Why Florence hoped for the best upon being woken by Diana at precisely 4:03 am, no one knew.

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Accidentally Married Prefs // Clones x Reader

Background: You and your clone beau were ‘’married’’ for an undercover mission. Now the mission’s over and there’s a bit of a shock. #surprise motha-fucker


“What do you mean divorce isn’t legal?” The captain in civilian disguise growled at the protocol droid behind the plastic window of the rundown courthouse on some backwater planet.

“We’re not even citizens of this planet, we just got married and put in a request for a certificate.” You chimed in, the lies rolling off your tongue. The droids eyes flickered over to you. What was meant by “flickering” was that the lights behind the droids ‘eyes’ were starting to go out and flickering on and off. Another example of how this planet was wasting dust rock.

“Irrelevant. Your ceremony was on our land and was officiated through our officials.” The droid answered. The engineer in you wanted to strip it for spare parts, but judging by the look of the rust bucket, there wouldn’t be much.

Rex looked over his shoulder and then back to the droid, “And if I was to slide you a pouch of very shiny credits?”

“Then I would call the authorities.” The droid quipped. Your eyes widened and you pulled Rex away by the bicep.

“Thank you for all your help.” You smiled over exaggeratedly as you drug Rex away. Once out of the shoddy court house, you looked up to the 501st captain. “Well, nothing left to do but call for extraction and sort this out on Coruscant.”

A few hours later in a cantina on the outskirts of town, you watched Rex dejectedly clean his blaster. (The cantina wasn’t exactly a high dollar establishment so it wasn’t like this behavior was out of place.) You frowned, watching him half heartedly scrubbed at the ash around the muzzle of the DC 17 pistol. Laying a hand on top of his, you gave him a joking look.

“C’mon, Captain, try not to look so disappointed. Being married to me won’t be THAT bad. I can cook, clean, I’m moved out of my parents apartment, I’m fairly good looking if I do say so myself. I’m a catch.” You listed out with a joking tone. He offered a laugh (that was more like a loud breath through his nose than an actual laugh) as he lifted his eyes up to yours.

“Oh, believe me, I know, and it’s not that we’re married-believe me, that’s not why I’m distraught.”

“Well, get traught.” You quipped back before continuing, “I’m kidding, I’m kidding, why are you distraught?”

Upon hearing your question, his cheeks lit up red along with the top of his ears, once again he averted his eyes to his blaster. “Well, I’ve been getting things together for a long while, and I finally got it all done, all I needed was a quiet day somewhere away from everything, and then this mission happened and ruined my chances at what I was planning.”

You were a little disheartened, what was your boyfriend of a year and a half planning that you had gotten in the way of? Regardless you tried not to let it show. “What were you planning?”

He smiled fondly, “Well, I called in a few favors. Paid a visit to Vanqor, and then made a pit stop to Saleucami to see Cut, managed to scrape up a script…” he paused and reached into a pouch on his belt and pulled out a small velvet… ring box(?), “I had this, had the paperwork (somehow the general helped me with that one), had all my words chosen, all I needed was you and a good chance to ask you…. but now all that’s gone to waste.”

Half way through his explanation, a realization dawned on you. Nervous excited energy bubbled in your belly, your palms started to sweat, and it was becoming increasingly harder to breath. “Ask away. I’m not stopping you. No time like the present. Right?” You rushed out, eager to see what he had in store.

With a smile, he opened the little velvet box; it revealed a ring. It was simple but still absolutely amazing. A shiny crystal(probably from Vancor) secured into a copper ring, held in place by little copper wires. “It’s not much, and definitely not what you deserve, but it’s the best I could come up with. And I had this elaborate speech. But I don’t need all that now, because we’re already married. I didn’t even have to ask.”

As he explained, he slipped the ring on your left index finger, holding your hand once it was in place. All you could was stare at it, the beautiful stone on your finger. Finally you snapped out of it and launched yourself across the table and into his arms, pecking kisses all over his face. Finally, breaking away from him you clarified, “I would have said yes, no matter when, where, or what ring you did or didn’t have.”



Four months. It had been four months since you and Kix had arrived back from the undercover mission. Four months since the general put in a divorce request for you two. Four months in which Kix was becoming increasingly impatient. Like Rex he was waiting for the opportune moment to ask you to marry him (for realsies this time). But it was hard to ask someone to marry you when you’re already married-especially when you’re already legally married to the person you’re asking!

Finally and the four and a half month mark, the request was processed and answered. When Kix got a hold of the envelope, he felt a burden lift off his shoulders and he got a giddy feeling in his stomach. He immediately commed you to tell you he got it.

When you arrived, you both oohed and ahhed over the rather plain envelope addressed to Mr. and Mrs. (y/l/n). (Using your last name seemed less conspicuous than Fett.) Finally after five minutes of staring at the envelope, you spoke.

“Well open it. I want to be a free woman with my half of the infirmary.” You joked, nudging his shoulder. He laughed and went to open it, gingerly ripping it open and taking out the stacks of paper.
He unfolded the papers and began to read.

A few moments later, his jaw dropped and his hands tightened around the paper. “What? What is it?”

He didn’t answer, but the paper was starting to tear under the pressure of his hands. With no response, you pried the paper out of his hands.

“Dear Mr. and Mrs. (y/l/n), I regret to inform you that your divorce request has been denied. Well wishes, the board of marital status.” You mumbled aloud.

“For fucks sake! I can’t wait any longer!” Kix groaned and you snapped your head to him.

“I didn’t realize I was that bad of a wife.” You growled, crumpling the papers into the wastebasket

“No, No, No. that’s not what I meant! It’s just that, well, I guess this is as good of time as ever.” He sighed. He got out of his chair and dropped to a knee and fished out a box from a pouch on his armor’s belt. He opened the box to reveal the ring. A simple band with a small diamond embedded in the silver metal. “I know it’s small and simple, but it can fit under medical gloves and it’s not big enough to be stolen-also all I could afford, but if you’ll take it, maybe you’ll take me as more than just your legal husband.”

“Kix, you’re always enough. Of course!” You cooed letting him slip the little thing on your finger before launching yourself around him.

“Good. Because even if you wanted to, you can’t get away. The Marital status board wouldn’t let you!” He laughed, you just shut him up with a kiss.


“I thought you put in a fake certificate.” You said breathlessly and nervously, looking up at the civvie disguised arc trooper. Searching his eyes, you already knew the answer. He gave you a nervous laugh as he scratched the back of his neck.

“I thought you told me to file a real one.” He confessed. Your jaw drooped.

“Why would I tell you to do that!!” You whisper yelled. “I told you to make sure you DIDN’T do that!”

“Heh.” He fake chuckled, offering a broad smile that was exceedingly difficult to stay mad at.

“Stop that. I’m trying to be mad at you.” You huffed, turning away from him, he could still see you crack a smile. He thought for a moment before cracking

“Meet me at 79’s tomorrow at 8.” With that he left suddenly with you confused.

The next night, you showed up at the clone bar in {insert nice/ going-out outfit here} still confused. It took awhile to find Fives- seeing as he blended in rather well whereas you stuck out like a sore thumb. None of the troopers bothered you though, they all knew you were Fives’ girl.

Finally finding him in a quiet, more private corner, he smiled at the sight of you. “You look gorgeous, babe.”

He didn’t look to shabby himself. Though short, you could tell he combed through his hair and polished up his armor-maybe it was the lighting but he might of touched up the paint on his armor. “You don’t look to bad yourself, soldier.”

After a while, the two of you had been through a round of drinks he took your hand. “At first, I wasn’t all that sure why the marriage certificate was that big of a deal, but then I realized somethings.

“One, you might not even want to marry me.

“Two, every girl deserves to have this special moment.” With that, he slid out of the booth and propped up on one knee. He fished out an inboxed ring and held it out. It was a gold band with five tiny crystals embedded it it.

“As much as I love being married, will you divorce me so I can do it right this time?” He asked as you laughed through happy tears.

“The only time I’ll be happy to breakup with you.”


“So we’re actually married?” The hand-printed arc trooper asked for clarification, staring at the piece of paper in your hand.

“Seems that way.” You shrugged, also gaping at the certificate.

“Well, damn, I don’t even have a ring.” He laughed. “Give me a sec. I can fix this.”

Three seconds later, he reappeared back with a straw wrapper and had detached the hand cover of his armor.

“This is rushed, but since I’m being deployed again tomorrow this is the best I got.” He started as he tied the straw wrapper around you finger. “There’s a ring, but since paper is very short lived, I’m leaving you a piece of my armor. Some of my older brothers in the 212th told me how leaving a piece of armor with your like leaving your life with them. But don’t think of it like that, think of it as a promise that I’ll come back for it assuming you’ll have me.”

With that, he put the plastoid piece in your hand and gently pressed a kiss against your forehead.

“Echo, ring or no ring, I’m yours. And you better come back regardless. I’ll come find you myself if I have too.” You answered, letting him cut you off with a passionate kiss. He only broke away at the sound of his comm chirping.

“I know, sweetheart. I have to go, we’re leaving for the citadel first thing in the morning. I love you.” Though disheartening, he always came back and that was the reality of dating within ranks.

“Be careful. We’ll talk honeymoons when you get back.” With a last kiss and a smirk, Echo left for the citadel. You never did get that honeymoon.

Sorry I’ve been away so long. I’m trying to come back, I promise. I’m in spring break now so that should help!

Up next: (Kix, Fives, and Rex) x Reader with a pregnancy scare.
That’s Us: Chapter One

Chapter One: You Rarely Seek What You Find

Word count: 4,151

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four |Epilogue

Summary: Canon Divergence. Eighth year without the Veil. The battle between the Old Families arrives before the Humdrum has been defeated. Months after the battle has been fought, Simon comes back to Watford and faces Baz after all that has happened. They’ve always been doomed to lose everything, but maybe some things can be won.

Inspired by this Dutch song. If anyone is ever interested in a rough translation of the lyrics, please tell me and I will post it when the whole story is posted on AO3. 

Read on AO3:

Trigger warnings: It’s pretty damn angsty with scenes that are similar to the forest fire scene in the book (suicidal thoughts/attempts), but maybe a bit more elaborate and thus more triggering. I’m not triggered very easily, so I don’t really know if this might be too heavy, so please be careful and stop if it gets too much.



I don’t smell him. A few months ago, I would’ve known he was there even before I’d reached the bottom of the stairs up to our room. The prickly scent of fire would have made my stomach twist with nausea and my heart flip with excitement.

This time there’s none of that. No fire. No static in the air caused by the constant threat of Simon’s magic overflowing. There’s just nothing.

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Nico and Allison go downstairs. She’s surprised to see all of Nico’s siblings gathered in the living area. They greet her politely. They’d always been in awe of Nico’s beautiful wife but they never felt entirely at ease around her. Nico placed her on too high of a pedestal.

 Allison had never quite bonded with any of them either, except for Remy. Nico had kept her apart from them, and she’d never bothered to try and build a relationship. Nico was all the family she needed. 

But it was time for that to change. Nico would need his family more than ever.

Mercedes shy: Allison, why haven’t you decorated for the holidays? I can help you if you’d like. All of us can. This penthouse is fabulous.

Allison smiles: That would be great, Merchy! I usually hire a decorator but I think it would be fun if we all decorated together. As a family. Let’s go shopping when I come back from seeing my sist- from running some errands. 

Allison stops herself in time. The last thing she needed was Remy finding out where Lala was and showing up there.

Nico looks at his wife in surprise. As a family, she’d said. He feels another burden lift ever so gently from his heart. He liked the idea of his wife and his siblings together, as a family.


The Skyline was a Witness

by Pia Francisco (@piahautea​)


Evenings are never wallowed in with sunlight. Everything’s always dark. Only a slice of the whole is bathed with the warm light coming from the sky. Everything else is dazed. But that night, I found you. A beautiful boy who tried stitching together my broken parts. It’s impossible, I know. Because how can you let yourself fall in love with your heart still fresh from the wreckage? I can’t tell love from right, or right from love. But that night, the horizon was in favor of us. And if it wasn’t love, it must have been something close to it. Only the night could tell because it was, after all, watching us figure it out ourselves. (Caution: ‘Short’ story ahead)

Here. This is where I found you.

The rooftop of my apartment building. Saturday night. 11:05 PM.

You sat on one of those metal benches. You were wrapped around in black from head to toe. Your face was looking skyward. You slipped your empty hand off your jaw and you rested it on top of your knee. Your jawline. It looked like it could scar my hands if I tried to touch it. I meant that in a good way, of course. It was well-chiseled.  Like you were made for museums. The other hand held a cigarette and I could tell just how much you’ve been meaning to throw it off to the ground. Not to the rooftop grounds, though. The twenty-floors-below sidewalk ground. But of course, you wouldn’t.

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Elevator Hug - part 2

Hey guys- this is the second part of ‘Elevator Hug’.

Part 1 can be found here:

Again, thank you to the amazing @jia911 for helping me to proofread!! <3

Disclaimer:  This is written before 13x22 airs ;)

The following day turned out to be challenging for Amelia. She and Alex were working on a 10 year old boy who had a brain tumor and needed surgery to remove the tumor. The problem was the boy’s father who didn’t believe in surgery. He strongly refused the surgery to be performed on his son, and ended up having a heated argument with Alex. The boy’s parents refused to sign the consent for the surgery- much to Alex and Amelia’s dismay.

But there was nothing they could do about it, as it was against the rules to operate on a patient against the parent or guardian’s wishes.

As Amelia stood at the nurses’ counter outside the boy’s room, watching the weak looking boy and his parents from a distance, she shook her head sadly. She knew at the rate the tumor was growing- the boy wouldn’t have long to live. The parents might regret their decision when the boy dies. There was no grief like of a parent who had lost their child. She knew that. She had experienced it before, and it was like a part of her heart was ripped apart from her, leaving a permanent hole that could never be filled.

She stood staring at the family- wondering whether there was anything else she could do to help the boy. Maybe she could device a plan with Alex to push the boy into surgery without the parents’ consent. And risk getting fired. Was that worth it?

As she was lost in her thoughts, she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned around to come face to face with Alex Karev.

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Soldier (part I)

Tamlin looked at me, tears threatening to spill from his eyes. My gut twisted painfully as he knelt down in the grass in front of me. The dress he’d provided for me to wear felt too tight, the air too hot as I took a sharp intake of breath.

“Marry me, Feyre. For real this time.” He said. In his hand he held a golden ring with a large red ruby in the middle of it. My stomach twisted even more, and I breathed in deep to keep myself from vomiting on him right there. A question. A question, or a demand? I couldn’t tell. I forced a smile to my face. Letting a particular face float into my mind, I nodded, tears now falling from my eyes. Tamlin smiled, and I let him believe they were tears of joy. “Yes,” I replied happily. “Yes Tamlin, of course!”. He slid the ring onto my finger, the weight of it feeling like a far heavier burden than it should. Each day the mask had to be put on, sometimes even at night. It was a small sacrifice for those I held dear. Tamlin rose and embraced me, lifting me up and spinning. “You’re home, and everything will be right now.” He whispered into my ear. I eased down and out of his grip casually. I stepped back and held my hand out, examining the ring. “You could have gotten me a larger stone, at least. This is smaller than the last.” I said playfully. The red ruby sparkled in the bright sunlight of the meadow. Lucien appeared from the woods then on his horse, concern covering his face. “Tamlin, I’m sorry to interrupt, but two members of the summer court are here unannounced, you must attend to them now, I’ll keep watch over Feyre.” He said my name with a bite that Tamlin didn’t seem to notice. Tamlin looked at me then, “Timing, Feyre, is unkind to us.” He kissed my forehead, letting his hand linger on my waist a moment, then turned back towards the mansion. Without turning back he said to Lucien. “Keep her out here far from the mansion until I’ve dealt with this.” Lucien looked at me then, and it wasn’t anger I saw, but pity. I balled my hands into fists. “You are not my keeper, Tamlin. I will do as I please.” I said, a challenge in my voice. He stopped cold at the edge of the forest, turning slowly to look at me. “I didn’t mean it like that Feyre. They can’t know you’re here–not yet.” He said, then left without a word. The hurt was plain on his face but I could not bring myself to care. His protection was not protection, but isolation, imprisonment.

Lucien cleared his throat. “Well that went well.” He said. I looked at him then. He stared back, unwilling to give in. “ Piss off, prick.” I said and began walking into the forest, away from the mansion. Away from it all.

Lunar Newt Year

Title: Lunar Newt Year (hehe puns)

Pairing: Newt Scamander x Reader

Word Count: 698

Warnings: some cussing, burning, fluff

Summary: You are tirelessly preparing for the Lunar New Year but Newt feels excluded and arguments arise.

A/N: Finals are finally over! I’m going to try to update more, though I do have a lot of reality type burdens I need to take care of in order for my life to not plummet. Anyway, Happy Lunar New Year! It’s one of my favorite holidays I celebrate and so whipped up a little fic last night. Hope you enjoy! :)


“Newt, you know how important my family is! This is tradition!”

“I thought I was your family, too! You’ve been neglecting me since the beginning of the month!”

You huffed a breath, lifting the massive steaming cauldron of soup off the stove. It was Lunar New Year tomorrow and you were doing your best to prepare half a feast to help your mother. You were pulling your weight in between the preparations and work, so much that you hadn’t been spending as much time with Newt. But, boy did you have a short temper.

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A Pocketful of Jelly Beans, Ch.4

Title: A Pocketful of Jelly Beans, Chapter 4

Genre: Thriller/Angst

Rating: T

Author’s Notes: This is basically Haven’s brand of smutless smut. I’m a big mess of boohooey emotions right now.  You’ve been warned.  

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3


Who was I?

Who was he?

Who was this man, this man whose trembling hands were frantically stroking my hair, whose voice was murmuring against my cold skin, whose hot tears were a terrible welcomed contrast as they dampened my breasts?

I didn’t know what he was saying.  

All I could hear playing over and over in my ears was the sound of the gunshot.

Who was this man, this man whose steady hands had calmly pulled the trigger, whose voice had issued a single warning, whose –

Suddenly his hands were framing my face and his blue eyes were inches from mine.

“I am your husband.”

Desperate, hoarse.

“And I love you.”

A heartbeat.

Another heartbeat.

I knew what he wanted and I knew why I couldn’t say it.

I couldn’t say it not because it would be a lie, but because it was true.  I couldn’t say it because it was true and it wouldn’t comfort him.

My eyes closed.

“Tell me, jelly bean.”

But I couldn’t refuse That voice.  I had let my heart be guided to answer it always, to let trust rise above whatever fear would keep my tongue silent.

My eyes opened.

“I love you.”

I was correct.

It didn’t comfort him.

It didn’t comfort him, because it was spoken in a voice that was broken, that was shaking, spoken with lips that were trembling, spoken with a mouth that had last night been forcibly silenced for hours while I sat in captive terror.

It didn’t comfort him because it sounded like “I hate you.”

Something flashed in his eyes and he simply rested his head against my chest again, this time with such weariness, as if a great burden had been placed on his shoulders and he could no longer support it on his own.

I didn’t realize that my arms had been hanging almost limp at my sides until he, without lifting his head, silently reached for them and placed them around his body.  He spoke so gently, although I could almost feel him shaking with the ferocity of whatever he was feeling.  I didn’t know if it was fear at the idea of losing me or an issue of pride at the idea of losing me, but his next words felt like stones being thrown at me.

“I’m not going to let go of you.  Please don’t let go of me.  You promised, my love, you promised.  Remember?”

I gasped and stiffened, a hot surge of anger shooting through my limbs.

How dare he.  How dare he cast my wedding vows in front of me. Now.  At a time such as this.  How dare he, when he was the one who was the deceiver, whose deception could have cost me my life.  

I was so stunned, I couldn’t speak.  The only thing I could do was jerk away from him, trying to push him off of me, not wanting to feel any part of him against myself.  My skin suddenly felt like it was on fire.

His arms caught me as I tried to turn away from him and get out of the bed.  My back was to his chest and he pulled me against himself, one arm settling diagonally between my breasts and the other clamped around my waist. I was still struggling and he lifted a strong runner’s leg and draped it over mine, trapping me.

“No,” whispered almost sorrowfully into my ear.  “Oh, no, little jelly bean, that isn’t what I meant.”

He pressed the side of his face to mine and began to rub his cheek along the softness of my skin, knowing how much I loved the playful roughness of his scruff.

“I was only trying to help you think of that perfect day.  I was remembering those lovely vows you gave me, remembering how stunning you were. You looked like something from a fairy book, with those flowers in your shining hair and the soft evening light illuminating your face.”

His voice faltered a bit and his lips brushed along my jaw while I tried to push with my shoulders and leverage myself away from him, the memory of our wedding night too painful for me to contemplate.

“No,” this time whispered with conviction and authority.

A heavy sob shook my body and my hands gripped the arm that was draped across me possessively, my fingers and nails digging into the skin.

He grunted at the pain, but drew me even closer, curving himself to me in the spooning position in which we usually fell asleep.  

“Didn’t you hear me, darling?  I’m not going to let go of you, no matter how much you try to fight me, no matter how justifiably betrayed and wounded you feel, unless you can look me straight in the eye and honestly tell me that you don’t love me and you don’t need me.”

The words seemed to give him an idea and he quickly shifted me in his arms, turning me to face him.  He sweetly pressed a soft kiss on each of my closed eyes, his knuckles brushing under my chin and down to my throat.

“Ah, I think that is my answer.  My little jelly bean, let me help you.  I know I can. Let me.  Let me.”

The tears flooded my eyes again, but I was afraid to open them.  

“You…you don’t want me to see.”

Now the voice was fraught with regret and self-loathing. He tucked my head under his chin and moved his hands up and down my back.  

“I’m sorry.  I’m sorry.  I’m so sorry.”

He said it over and over as I wept, until we both fell into an exhausted slumber.


I could sense immediately that he was already awake when I slowly opened my eyes a couple of hours later, feeling the firm muscles of his abdomen pressed to my back.  

My husband.

A liar.

Would I ever be able to wake up and not feel that terrible ball of uneasiness in my stomach, not feel like the world’s biggest fool?  

The sudden change in my breathing from the slow steadiness of sleep to the quick shallow movement wasn’t lost on him and I felt him tense.

“It’s alright, I’m here, you’re s-“

I blurted out the words in interruption.

“Did you marry me as part of the…the…”

Part of the what?  I didn’t know what word to use.  The job?  The assignment?

Not needing to wait for me to finish, he answered by placing his chin over my shoulder.

“No, of course not.  I swear.  I asked you to marry me because I love and adore you. I know I should have waited, I should have waited until this was over and I wouldn’t have to keep any secrets from you. It was so utterly selfish, I know.”

One of his big warm hands was gently kneading the curve of my belly like a cat.  I hated that he knew how to touch me, how to soothe me, how to make me go limp against him; but I didn’t have the energy to fight him when he adjusted our lower bodies so that I could slip a foot behind his leg and run my toes up and down the cool firmness of his calf.  

“I’m sorry, darling,” he breathed, planting a string of kisses along the slope of my shoulder.

“I was so scared that someone would come along and snatch you away from me.  You know that Colin made up ridiculous excuses to see you, feigning mislabeled packages and things of that nature.”

I couldn’t help but smile at the tinge of jealousy that colored his tone and gasped a little when he nipped at my shoulder.

“I would walk into your department and see him leaning on that counter in your office while you smiled up at him and I wanted to –“

He caught himself and sighed heavily, the hand that was kneading me splayed out fully and drifting down a few inches in a manner that I told myself I should have hated at this moment, but that only served to make me even more docile.

“Do you believe me?  I swear, it’s the truth.”

He was pressing his palm in a slow steady rhythm into my belly.  

When I didn’t answer, he made a low throaty sound of disapproval that set my heart racing and I found myself quickly turned from my side to my back, his knees pressed into the mattress on either side of my hips while his elbows followed suit against my upper arms and his hands tenderly framed my face.

Tom had never treated me with anything less than complete respect and sweet devotion, never touched me in anger or manipulated me with anger.  I’d never felt anything less than safe and secure with him, never touched him out of fear of violence upon my body.  

I still wasn’t afraid of him and I instinctively knew that he would never hurt me, but now there was something flickering in his eyes, a restrained energy that was teetering on the verge of escaping its bonds.

Those beautiful blue orbs were searching my face, his thumbs stroking my cheekbones.

“I asked you a question, jelly bean.”

A rush of pity poured over me at the desperation in his voice, at the strange mix of sadness and regret in his expression that was making his usually open features appear dark.

They softened when my hands came up to rest on his neck.

“I do…”

He blinked.

“There’s a but in that sentence, isn’t there?”

I had to close my eyes.

“Please,” I whispered, irritated to feel tears welling up yet again, “Please don’t make me…”

He was silent for a few seconds and then I felt his lips by my ear.

“Listen to me, darling. This is only going to work if we are honest with each other.”

There it was again, that surge of anger that was becoming all too familiar.  I knew he sensed it, because he rushed ahead before I could speak.

“I know, I know you think I am asking something of you that I haven’t given and you are correct.  But I promise you, I will be as honest as I can possibly be and I need you to do the same.  Please.  Please.”

My hands were still on his cheeks and I pulled his face to mine and kissed him.  

He finally pulled away, nearly breathless, and I was trembling.  

“Your kisses are so sweet, my love, always so sweet,” pressing his lips to the corner of my mouth, “and I am always hungry for them.”  

His lips moved to my brush along my nose.

“But please, open your eyes. Open your eyes and answer me.”

I listened.

I didn’t know how not to.

“I do believe you. But I wish I didn’t.”

He bowed his head, my words appearing to fall on him like a physical blow even though I hadn’t spoken them in anger.  

“Why?” whispered against my skin.

“Because if I didn’t, this would be easier.  I could…I could let go without guilt.”

His head snapped up and his eyes were wide with alarm.

“What do you mean? What do you mean when you say ‘This would be easier?’  Do you mean that you…”

He swallowed and the color was draining from his cheeks.

“Do you mean that you think this is over, that you intend on walking away?”

I couldn’t think anymore. I couldn’t bear to hear his voice saying those words.  I couldn’t imagine my life without him and I couldn’t imagine my life with him.  

Not just my life.  Two lives.  

“I told you, I’m not letting go.  I’m not.”

For as strongly as I had felt like I wanted to get away from him only minutes earlier, I now felt like I couldn’t get close enough to him.  It wasn’t enough.  My hands moved to his neck, my fingers reaching up to tug at his curls.  

“I don’t want to think, I don’t want to think!” I was sobbing against him, just as I had before, moving fitfully under the weight of his body.  I’d never felt more confused, more desperate for an anchor.

“Look at me,” he commanded in a strained low voice.

When he saw the confusion in my eyes, something passed over his face and he took a long deep breath. I knew he hadn’t only seen confusion. He saw consent.  No, he saw more than consent.  He saw a pleading invitation.  He saw overwhelming need.

And to give him the assurance of all of that, I said it one more time, because I knew he was waiting for it.

“I don’t want to think.”

“Then don’t, little jelly bean,” the voice now perfectly calm.

He gently took my arms and placed them above my head, pausing to kiss the bruises around my wrists.


Don’t Worry, I’ll Be Fine (Luke)

Requested by anon -  Can you do a Luke one were y/n’s parents think she has something wrong with her brain because she keeps having panic attacks, shaking and twitching and Luke is on tour and y/n tells him but also tells him not to come to England (y/n is English) but to stay on tour because she doesn’t want to worry him but he surprises her at the hospital for the appointment and turns out it’s nothing big and she gets better with his help. Luke is y/n boyfriend. Sorry got kinda carried away. Love ur writing.

I sat in the corner of my room waiting for the pain to go away but my head just keeps throbbing. My chest is tight and I can feel my body start to shake when I hear the door open. I don’t look up but I know it’s my mum when she slides down the wall next to me and wraps and arm around me. She pulls me into her and runs her fingers through my hair.

“You can’t refuse anymore. I think it’s time to get this looked at again.”

“You think there is something wrong with me? That my head is messed up?”

“Come on Sweetie” she says as she tries to help me stand.

“I-I-I can’t. I do-don’t have the are-strength” I get out between gasps of air. I feel my father pick me up bridal style and he takes me out to the car. I hear them talk between themselves but I can’t focus enough to know what they’re saying. My mum put something in my mouth after she buckled me in and I assume that it was one of the pills that the last doctor, who my mother swears was wrong, had given me. At the time, my mum had thought I was making everything up for the attention. Since then it had started to get worse and the shaking started. She had been trying to convince me to get more tests because she just knew it was something in my brain that could be fixed easily but she couldn’t hide her embarrassment. She never talked about it with her friends and she would change the subject of it came up in public, she wanted it to be a secret that she gave birth to a defective child. I feel the panic set in again but my body was too worn out from the last attach so I vaguely recall someone lifting me into a wheelchair and bringing me inside a cold building. It smelt clean but overly so where the scent of bleach cleaner assaulted my nose.

“Hun” my mum says in a voice that suggests she is forcing herself to seem compassionate. “Luke is calling for the 3rd time.”

“No, I don’t want to burden him” I mumble and she sighs as she places my phone next to me and it continues to buzz.

“The doctor has a few more tests” a woman says as she starts to unlock the wheels of my bed to move it. I don’t reply because I feel ashamed of what is happening. The panic had left for now and I don’t know how effective this test will be. She pushes me into a room and I switch to a different bed which has a built in bed on it. She explains the test and I lay back as she moves the bed into the large machine.
“Hi Luke” I hear my mum say. “Please stop calling her phone.” I shuffle a bit. “She is resting right now and there are still some tests that they have to do so I don’t think it’s a good idea to keep calling.” I want to tell her to give me the phone but I’m so tired.
The next time I wake is when the nurse puts more medicine in my I.V.

“Do I really need it?” I ask her.

“For now” she says with an apologetic smile. I see that my mum left the room with my phone by me and I pick it up. I dial Luke’s number but a man I don’t know answers. He tells me that Luke is on stage but told him to tell him as soon as I called.

“Baby, are you okay?” He is out of breath and I know he was jumping around. I feel guilty for stopping the show.

“I didn’t know you were on stage already.”

“Do you want me to you? We are just outside London now, I can be there in a jiffy.”

“Don’t be ridiculous Luke” I say back to him as I sag into the bed on my side. “You are in the middle of tour and I’m like 4 hours from London. Besides, they just keep doing tests so there is not much for you to do here.”

“What are they doing tests for? What happened?”

“I don’t know. Mum says that there has to be something wrong with my brain.”

“You don’t sound like you agree” he states.

“There is something wrong I guess because I have these attacks but I don’t think it’s something that can be fixed with a surgery. I think she is hopeful that it will be fixed and gone forever.”

“Are you positive that yo-”

“Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.”


“No, just focus on the tour.” I hear him grumble and sigh.

“I love you babe.”

“I love you too Lukey.” Once we hang up I turn to my other side and the nurse comes in. “This medicine makes me so tired” I tell her. I feel my eyelids grow heavier and sink into my pillow. She pulls the blanket up to my shoulders and I’m asleep before she even leaves the room.
Like each time I have woken up there is a rustling in my room. I must have had a nightmare because my heart is beating fast again and my breathing is quickened.

“Mum” I try. “Something is not right” I tell her panicked.

“It’s me baby, I’m here” Luke says. “Shhhh baby” he says as he runs his hand up and down my arm. He must have pushed the emergency button because my nurse came in to assess the situation. “Relax” Luke says softly as I feel the cold medicine enter my veins again.

“Why are you here Luke? You can’t ignore your fans and punish them just because my head is fucked” I say quickly.

“Stop. Stop worrying about that. It’s a rest week and I didn’t ignore anybody. Now come on babe, when you come back to normal, I have a surprise for you.” I close my eyes and focus on breathing. After a few minutes, I open my eyes and luke hands me a small black pouch. I open it and find a silver necklace with a guitar and a red pick hanging as pendants.

“Luke, is this your lucky pick? I can’t take that from you.”

“My brothers girlfriend gets panic attacks sometimes and she told me that she has a necklace that she plays with that helps calm her down. I figured that you could use that and maybe it could bring you some luck.” The way I am lying and the way he is sitting only allows for me to give a kiss to his hand in thanks. “I should get the doctor. She said she wanted to talk to you when you woke up.” He leaves the room but returns shortly followed by the doctor.

“Every test we have done proves what we suspected which is that there is nothing physically wrong. Now, you will have to take medicine each day to keep the attacks to a minimum but your body will eventually be able to fight the drowsiness.”

“So I’m still going to get them?” I ask.

“Unfortunately there is no real way to fully prevent them so it is what we have to do” she explains. “I have already spoken to your mum about this and she is having a hard time but she understands.”

“Where is my mum?” I ask Luke.

“She went to work but she will be here later when you get discharged. She is going to bring us to your house” he says. 

“I get to go home!?” I ask excitedly. 

“You get to go home if you can manage these last 4 hours without an attack” the doctor clarifies. Luke climbs in the bed next to me and I curl into him. 

“I’m sure having Luke here will help” I tell her. “I’m sorry I ruined your rest week” I mumble. 

“There is nowhere I would rather be then with my arms wrapped around you” he kisses the top of my head. “I love you.”

“I love you too” I mumble into his chest and he laughs. I fall asleep to the wonderful sound and have a completely restful sleep for the first time in 6 weeks. Must be because of Luke…and the lucky pick. 


Alhamdullilah. About 5 or so minutes ago, I said the Shahadah for the first time with all my heart. I had the help of @reverthelp, of course. As a new revert, there is much I have to learn and I know this. I can only trust that Allah will put me in a position where I can learn as much as I can. I feel like my heart is light and Allah has lifted all of my burdens. I don’t remember the last time I felt like this. I have some fear but I am ready to surrender myself to Allah’s will as he guides me through this life and away from Shaitan.
Ya Allah. I am in Your hands now and forever. Ameen.

In The Meadow (An Everlark one-shot)

The clouds are low and the sky is an overcast gray when I walk down the front stairs of my home in Victor’s Village. The bite of the air is beginning to lessen. It’s still crisp but I can smell the warmth of it coming back; I can feel it in my bones as well. My shoulders feel strange without the burden from the weight of my bow, but I roll them back and set my neck straight even as I stare down at my shoes scuffing the gravel. I’m not out to hunt today.

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