#unsure about wanting to take part in the summer exchange cause whoever i get is gonna be left with not even a substandard gift bad

[love-fireflysong]

I'm just saying you guys, if you're a fanfic author and you're going through a rough period where you keep feeling like your writing is shit and awful and just absolute garbage, just reread your own work.

You don't even have to look at the comments if you're going through a particularly nasty patch where you're convinced everyone is just lying and was only saying nice things to spare your feelings. Just reread the fic itself. It'll change your mind so quick I promise.

There's seriously nothing quite like clicking on what is *your* most popular fic and going 'Oh. I get it now. I think I understand why other people actually like this one so much holy shit'.

[littlemisspascal]

Death and an Angel part 2

Helmetless + Death!Din and Female + Cupid!Reader.

Summary: You’re a Cupid whose primary reason for existing is to guide people in the direction of their soulmates. Din—known to the rest of the universe as Death with a capital D—has, as of three days ago, become your next client. You wonder, not for the first time, how is this your reality? 

Rating: G

Word Count: 1000

Warnings: Plot development, pining, overall nothing too serious

Author Note: Oh my gosh! Thank you so much for the incredible response to my little universe!!! I hope you like this segment just as much, fingers crossed. If you want to be added to tag list, let me know! 

Link to part one and part 3

Photo Inspiration:

You’re a Cupid whose primary reason for existing is to guide people in the direction of their soulmates. Din—known to the rest of the universe as Death with a capital D—has, as of three days ago, become your next client.

You wonder, not for the first time, how is this your reality? 

Memories of your mortal life are few and far between, slipping through your fingers like fireflies in the summer when you try to hold onto them too long. But you doubt anything you experienced could have prepared you for the sight of Death sitting across from you in your living room, legs crossed and entirely at ease in your apartment despite it being his first time visiting.

You have to remind yourself that right here, right now you’re a Cupid with a mission. Quite possibly the biggest mission of your entire career. You can’t screw this up, not even if it feels like an invisible fist is slowly clenching around your heart as you listen to Din describe his ideal soulmate.

“Whoever it is,” he says while unabashedly observing your furnishings, not willing to rule out a specific gender or race, not when they’re his supposed better half. “They can’t be a mortal.”

Your pencil stills mid-note taking, unsure you heard him right. Most people would assume Death has no sense of humor, but you’ve learned from your encounters with him that assumption is far from the truth. However, when you look up from your notebook to check if he’s trying to make some kind of joke, you fail to find any trace of jest in his expression, not even the faintest gleam of amusement in his brown eyes. 

You tap your writing utensil mindlessly against your leg, looking him over from head to toe and reconsidering your opinion of him in light of this new information. “I didn’t know you disliked mortals so much you’d purposefully exclude them.”

“You misunderstand, angel. It doesn’t matter if I like a mortal or not, either way my touch will kill them.” Din holds up one of his gloved hands in front of you for inspection, as if you’d never noticed them before. Asshole. “Why do you think I take such precautions when we’re in public spaces?”

Truthfully, a specific reason for him wearing multiple layers hadn’t ever really crossed your mind. You’d just accepted it from the start as a facet of his being. Still, your ears burn with embarrassment hot enough you’re half-convinced the room’s temperature has also risen several degrees. It’s not out of the realm of possibility for your house to turn against you in an effort to cause you humiliation in front of your unattainable crush.

On the receiving end of his arched eyebrow, the only defensive retort you can manage is, “Everyone’s got their quirks. I thought poor fashion choices just happened to be yours.”

“Says the angel who collects newspaper scraps as a hobby,” he fires back, peering around you at the stack of newspapers in the corner you’d yet to sort through for articles that snagged your interest.

More and more you’re starting to regret inviting him into your home. 

“We’re not here to talk about me,” you snap, but the rebuke is diminished by the audible note of laughter in your voice, the grin stubbornly pulling at the corners of your mouth.

A flicker of emotion flashes across his face as he stares back at you, as quick to vanish as it was to appear, resembling a glimpse of sunlight peeking through an overcast of clouds. If you didn’t know better, you’d almost think he had regarded you with...fondness.

“So,” you shake your head, derailing that pathetic train of thought, and reposition your pencil to continue writing, “your soulmate has to be someone who can survive your touch. Which means they obviously have to be immortal like us.”

Like us, that tiny lovesick voice in the back of your head coos. Maker, you’ve got it bad. If you could get away with slapping yourself in front of him, you’d be giving yourself a concussion right now.

“That should narrow your search down considerably, shouldn’t it?” Din asks, bracing his forearms on his knees as he leans closer into your personal space. If you were to look up, your noses would be within inches of touching. 

Stubbornly, you keep your head firmly looking down at your notes. Partly to hide your expression of embarrassment, partly because you don’t trust your own self-control to prevent you from doing something stupid. “In theory, yes. I have a few potential candidates in mind we can arrange dates with.” In response to his prolonged beat of silence, you find yourself offering, “You can wear your armor. If—If that would make you more comfortable, I mean.” 

You’re so focused on keeping your breathing steady you nearly miss him murmuring, “Are any of these dates Cupids?”

Your mind is slow to process the question, even slower to form an answer as it flips through the list of names that you’d started compiling from the start of your interrogation. 

“No,” you answer at last. Not a single one.

His lips purse, another flicker of emotion flashing across his face, before he pulls away and stands up from his seat. Your heart flips in your chest, because this time you don’t have any doubts about recognizing his expression. But...it doesn’t make any sense.

Din slips his arms through the sleeves of his coat, preparing to leave through your front door and step outside onto the snow-covered sidewalk. You barely pay him any attention, replaying the recent exchange in its entirety on loop within your brain like a vinyl record.

“I look forward to your next call, angel,” Din says, nodding his head in that dumb, stoic way he always does when he leaves you.

“Goodbye,” you say belatedly, seconds after the door had already clicked shut behind him.

In his absence, you finally allow the realization to sink in, rubbing a hand over your mouth in disbelief in spite of the certainty you feel about your assessment being correct. 

That look you saw on Din’s face when you’d told him no.

It had been disappointment.

Tag List: @leilei-draws, @theocatkov, @becauseican2, @vintagesaph, @stardust-and-starlight, @kay2304, @odelia-d32, @adrieunor

[ukulelecal]

Bloom - Part Two

The story of flowers.

Pairing: Poet!Luke Hemmings x Female!OC

Warnings: a bit more angst but def more fluff. implied smut. a couple swears probably. hella feelings. mentions of anxiety

Word Count: 6.8k

A/N: here is the second part!! less sad than the first!! lol anyways, i hope you guys love it, there will be one more part after this! reminder that feedback and reblogs are sosososo important to creators x 

series masterlist

my masterlist // posted on ao3

*One year later*

Devon’s new school wasn’t all that she had imagined it to be.

Her classes were great. She was learning so much and her professors were very encouraging and helpful. Everything else, however, wasn’t so ideal.

She wasn’t fond of her classmates. Perhaps she was just so used to her old school, but everyone rubbed her the wrong way. She had only found a few friends that she trusted, but she didn’t even see them much. They had attended undergrad at that school, and they already knew everyone. Devon couldn’t quite make her way into the friend group.

She wasn’t a fan of the city, either. It simply didn’t have the vibe or the excitement that home did.

Home. She tried not to use that word to describe where she once lived, but her mind continuously went back to it. She knew exactly why.

That’s where Luke was.

Devon hadn’t heard from him since she moved. She left with a very brief goodbye and good luck wish, but that was it. She held back her tears during the Uber ride to the airport and all through the plane ride.

Luke, now alone in the apartment, broke down as soon as she left. He should have been the one taking her to the airport, kissing her goodbye and promising that everything would be okay. But nothing was okay anymore.

It had been a year since Devon moved, and the now broken up couple was doing a lot better. Devon distracted herself with schoolwork and trying to find her place in her new environment. She took up kickboxing as well as a way to let out her emotions, although the muscles she was developing were a plus as well.

Luke still had the same coping mechanism he always had; writing poetry. He poured his heart and soul into countless poems. They were completely raw, completely honest. He held nothing back. Frankly, they were his best work.

Devon’s first year of grad school officially came to an end. It was as if a weight was lifted off her shoulders. She couldn’t say she was happy there, but she wasn’t there to make friends. She was there to get her master’s, and she wasn’t going to quit. For herself and for her family.

A very unexpected text quickly changed any plans that Devon might have had for the summer.

It was from Luke.

“Hey Devon. I know it’s been a while and I hope grad school is going well. But it's official. My first poetry book is getting published. You probably don’t want to hear from me, and I understand, but you were always the person that believed in me the most. Thank you for that. Truly. I wouldn’t be here without you. I’m having a release party in a few weeks. Nothing big, just close friends and family. It would mean a lot to me if you came.”

Her heart skipped a beat as soon as she saw his name flash across her screen. Not a single word had been exchanged between them in the past year. A part of Devon had been wishing that he would reach out, even if it was just to say hi and check in. She almost texted him a few times, but something always stopped her.

Hearing from him after so long brought an array of emotions, but the one that overwhelmed her the most was pride.

Devon knew how much this meant to him. He opened up to her about it on their very first date freshman year. She remembered sitting across from him at the coffee shop on campus, and the way his eyes lit up as he talked about releasing a book. She found his passion admirable, and she had every faith in him that he would succeed. She was his biggest supporter through the years; she was there to comfort him when he got rejected and help him through his bouts of writer’s block. He always told her that she was his biggest inspiration. Most of his poems ended up being about her in some capacity.

Despite everything that happened between, Devon couldn’t fathom missing this momentous time in his life.

With a deep breath, she typed out a reply.

“I would love to come. It means a lot that you thought of me.”

The weeks leading up to the party were utterly nerve wracking, for both Devon and Luke.

It took Luke a few days to work up the courage to invite Devon. He was scared she hated him and wouldn’t care to come, that she would be appalled at him thinking even for a second that she might want to see him again. It took a lot of convincing from Ashton, a college friend that he invited to move into the apartment once Luke realized he couldn’t afford the rent on his own and that he couldn’t stand being in the apartment by himself, but he did it. Luke wasn’t sure he breathed at all in the minutes it took her to respond.

Now that she was officially attending, it left the two to question what seeing each other would be like after a year apart. Would it be awkward? Would they end up having another argument and cause more pain? Would they be unrecognizable to each other?

The uncertainty was painstaking, but Devon reminded herself that she was there to support Luke, and Luke reminded himself that he would have given up a long time ago if it weren’t for Devon.

The time finally came for the release party. They both hardly slept the night before. Luke was alone in the bed that he used to share with the woman he hadn’t seen in a year, while she laid in a hotel bed just blocks away. Things felt different knowing that they weren’t hundreds of miles away anymore, and the next day they would see each other.

Devon pandered around her hotel room all day, doing her best to distract herself. She scrolled through every channel on the television, but nothing kept her attention. She did a workout, but every song on her workout playlist managed to remind her of Luke in some way.

They day dragged on until it was finally time for Devon to get ready. She played calming music in the shower to slow her heart rate and took her time doing her hair and makeup. It took some effort to steady her hands, but she got the job done.

Luke had been able to keep himself busy all day. A couple of his friends, Calum and Michael, shared a flat that was decently bigger than Luke’s apartment, and graciously offered to host the party there. Him and Ashton went over there early to make sure the place was clean and that all the food and drinks were ready.

Once guests started arriving, the nerves came back in full force.

He could only hope that he was really ready to see Devon.

For her, the Uber ride to the address Luke gave her hit every single red light. She bounced her leg in the back seat, unsure if she was thankful for the longer ride or if she hated it. On one hand, it gave her more time to prepare herself. However, every passing second made her nervousness increase.

Time stopped when the car parked in front of the flat.

She stared at it for a moment, the fact that Luke was just inside making her fingers tremble.

She didn’t realize she was still sitting there until the driver asked her if she was okay. She quickly thanked him and climbed out of the car.

Devon slowly made her way up the walkway, reminding herself with each step that this was a huge deal for Luke. His dreams were finally coming true. He had expressed to her that he credited her in part for his success. He must not have harbored any major negative feelings against her, otherwise she wouldn’t have been invited.

She almost felt a sense of calm as she reached the front door.

She slowly pushed it open, Luke having told her it would be unlocked and she could let herself in. Once inside, she didn’t see him right away. She recognized some friends from her undergraduate days, but nobody seemed to notice her right away.

A tall figure came out from the kitchen, and Devon had to do a double take.

Luke had certainly grown in their year apart.

His curls were shorter in the back and longer on top, and it looked like they had been dyed at some point. He opted for a pair of glasses instead of contacts, and he had a beard. She had never seen him with more than some stubble. He had on a forest green sweater that she always said was her favorite; she wondered if he had worn it on purpose. She couldn’t blame him if he did, considering she was wearing the long sleeved, yellow floral dress that Luke always said he loved on her.

He looked completely different, but at the same time, he was still her Luke.

All of her anxieties melted away the second he looked at her.

“Devon.”

It felt so natural. It was as if all of the pain that came from the last time they saw each other had gone away. They both knew in the back of their minds there wasn’t any bad blood between them, as much as their breakup hurt. Neither had exactly done anything wrong.

“You made it,” he continued through a deep breath.

“You know I wouldn’t miss this for the world, Lu.”

Devon looked the same. Her hair was a little longer than the last time he saw her, and he could tell that she had put on some muscle from the way she filled out her dress a little more. She looked good, healthy.

Luke silently thanked whoever was listening that she seemed alright, at least physically. He could acknowledge that he went into a bit of a downward spiral in terms of taking care of himself when she left. He hardly slept and completely shut himself out from everyone that reached out to him. Ashton moving in helped, but certain days made it bad again, like when their anniversary and Devon’s birthday passed. He didn’t want the same for her. He wanted her to do better than him.

Devon had her bad days too. She did better at the beginning when she had so much on her plate, but once things settled down, she was a wreck for a while, not much different than what Luke was like.

He hesitated only a moment before taking Devon into his arms. He prepared himself for her to pull away, but she did quite the opposite. She melted into him, cheek resting against the soft material of his sweater.

Devon remembered all the times she needed a hug. Whenever she had a bad day or was stressed out over school or simply just wanted to be held, Luke was always there. He would mumble a soft assurance under his breath as he took her into his arms, holding her tight as if she’d be gone forever if he let go. He would whisper whatever it was she needed to hear at the moment, although sometimes it was nothing at all.

She didn’t realize how badly she needed this one.

“I’m so glad you’re here, Dev,” Luke whispered into her hair. He could smell the same coconut shampoo she always used and the warm, sweet perfume she always wore. It brought a sense of comfort and familiarity.

“I’m glad to be here. I...I really missed you, Luke.”

The confession felt good. She tried to deny the fact that she missed him, but seeing him again, she realized how much she really had.

“I missed you too.”

Luke pulled away from the hug and kept his hands on Devon’s shoulders. The same blue eyes met the same brown ones. The ghosts of smiles tugged at their corners of their lips. Every worry they had about seeing each other had gone away.

“I want to say congratulations on your book,” Devon mumbled, fiddling with the small clutch she brought. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you,” he responded, a slight blush creeping up his cheeks. “I have to say, I-”

His sentence got caught off by a shout of his name from an arriving guest. He sighed and sent Devon an apologetic look. There was a lot that needed to be said, so much that needed to be talked about, but they knew that this wasn’t the time or place to do so.

“It’s fine, go on. We’ll catch up later, bub-” she cut herself off, the pet name she called him so often about to slip from her lips so naturally. “Okay?”

Luke sighed sadly but gave her a smile. He understood why she stopped herself, but God, he would have loved to hear her call him that again.

“Okay. See you in a bit, Dev.”

Luke slowly walked away to greet the new arrivals while Devon wandered off to find people she knew. She came across her good friends from undergrad - mutual between her and Luke - who thankfully seemed excited to see her. They made small talk and asked about grad school before easing into questions about Luke. She should have expected it, but she hadn’t talked much about the breakup since it first happened. It was easy to simply not mention it to her grad school group and they wouldn’t know the difference, but these were the girls that she called sobbing at random times during the day when she needed to talk. It was natural that they were curious.

“Did you two talk at all while you were gone?” One asked, and Devon shook her head.

“No,” she sighed. “I think that was best, though.”

Devon’s eyes trailed to the right. Luke was talking to some family members, laughing. A small grin tugged at the corners of her lips. His laugh was musical and contagious. She always felt proud of herself when she made him laugh. Not that it was a difficult task; he loved to laugh. For Devon, getting to hear the noise was like a gift.

“Dev!”

She snapped her gaze back to her friends. Their expressions were a mixture of smug and concerned. It was obvious that Devon hadn’t gotten over Luke in the past year. She still looked at him the same way she always did. They were still concerned that she would get her heart broken again.

“You still love him, don’t you?”

Devon glanced over at him one more time. She tried to convince herself that she didn’t. She almost threw away her shoebox of poems just to prove it to herself, but she couldn’t do it. It would always be him.

“Of course I do.”

…

The rest of the night, Luke and Devon didn’t speak. They weren’t avoiding each other, but the weight of the conversation they needed to have required the crowd to go away and the festivities to die down before it could happen. They exchanged glances and small smiles, saving the talking for later.

Devon purposely hung back as the crowd startled to trickle out the door. Luke had made a small speech thanking everyone for coming and celebrating with him. Everyone took it as the hint that the party was over. Deciding to help out while she waited, Devon busied herself cleaning up a bit in the kitchen.

Footsteps caught her attention, but they didn’t belong to who she figured they did. Instead of seeing Luke, she saw Ashton. He was Luke’s best friend, and while him and Devon never got super close, she still considered him a friend.

“Hey, Dev,” Ashton greeted with a grin, opening his arms for a hug that she gladly accepted.

“Hi, Ash. How have you been?”

“Good. Just working,” he chuckled as he pulled away from the hug. “You? How’s grad school?”

“It’s pretty good.” Good if he asked about her academics and not her social life, that is.

“That’s good.”

Ashton leaned against the counter across from her, shooting her a look. She raised her eyebrows in expectation.

“Luke’s been freaking out, you know,” Ashton mumbled, sticking his hands in his pockets. “About seeing you.”

Devon sighed and ran a hand through her hair. Somehow, knowing that he was nervous too was comforting.

“Glad it wasn’t just me.”

“He really missed you. I’m sure he’ll tell you all this himself, but in case you don’t believe him, take it from me. He missed you so, so much.”

Devon couldn’t help but smile a little. It was good to hear it from someone else.

“I missed him too. A lot.”

Before Ashton could reply, Luke stepped into the kitchen, eyes flickering back and forth between his best friend and his ex girlfriend. Words got caught in Devon and Luke’s throats, neither of them sure what to say.

“I guess that’s my cue to get out,” Ashton joked, breaking the awkward silence. “Let me know when you’re ready to go home, Luke.”

The man walked out of the kitchen to help Calum and Michael clean up in the living room while Devon turned to look at Luke with furrowed eyebrows.

“Home?” She questioned.

“Ashton moved into the apartment a little while after you left,” Luke admitted, scratching the back of his neck. He took Ashton’s spot against the counter. “I needed a roommate to help with the rent.”

He left out the fact that being alone in there only reminded him that she was gone and he needed someone to keep him company.

Devon nodded in understanding, but felt another twinge of guilt. She hadn’t considered that she was leaving the financial burden onto him. Thankfully Ashton was there.

“How was your night?” Devon asked genuinely. The party was to celebrate his success, and she genuinely hoped he enjoyed it.

“It was really great.” Luke sent her a thankful grin. “I know I said it before, but it really means a lot to me that you’re here. I was afraid you wouldn’t want to come.”

“This is everything you’ve ever wanted. After everything we’ve been through, I would never miss this moment in your life.”

Devon sent him a sad smile that he returned. There was still so much that needed to be said, so much to discuss. A tension hung between them, but not one of anxiety or dread. It was desperation and desire. A yearning for what they once had.

“We need to talk, Dev,” Luke whispered what they were both thinking. “Like, really talk.”

“I know we do.” She glanced at the clock on the wall beside his head. “But it’s getting late. My flight back isn’t until Monday. Maybe we can meet up tomorrow, if you’re free? Get lunch?”

Luke nodded in agreement. It would be best if they both got some sleep and recharged before talking seriously.

“That sounds good.” Luke turned to look at the clock as well and laughed. “I know it’s past your bedtime.”

Devon rolled her eyes playfully. She was the “go to bed early, wake up early” type, while Luke was the opposite.

“Exactly. I need my beauty sleep.”

“Boy, do I know it.”

The two laughed together, for the first time in a long time. It felt so right.

“I should head back then,” Devon announced, reaching behind to grab her clutch that she had set on the counter. “Let me just call an Uber and I’ll be out of here.”

“Don’t worry about that. Ash and I came together, he’ll drive you back. Where are you staying?”

Not one to turn down a free ride, Devon rattled off the name of her hotel. Luke led her to the living room to get Ashton and say goodbye to Calum and Michael. Luke thanked them again for letting him have the party at their place before they were out the door and piled in Ashton’s car. Luke took shotgun while Devon slipped into the back.

The ride to the hotel was quiet. Only Ashton’s soft indie music and the sound of other cars filled the car. Shortly, Ashton pulled to a stop in front of Devon’s hotel. Luke turned around in his seat to face her.

“Thanks again for coming, Dev,” he mumbled softly, a grin on his face.

“Thanks for inviting me. And thanks for the ride, Ashton.” He nodded in acknowledgement before she turned her gaze back to Luke. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Tomorrow. Who knows what tomorrow would bring?

“See you tomorrow.”

Devon climbed out of the car and headed towards the doors, sparing one last glance and a wave before heading inside. Luke watched as she walked in, a small sigh escaping his lips. He turned his head to see Ashton with a smirk on his face.

“What?” Luke questioned.

“You still love her, don’t you, mate?”

Luke sighed again, glancing back towards the doors. Devon was already out of sight, probably in the elevator already. He knew exactly what she was going to do when she got to her room. She would kick off her shoes and then take her makeup off. She’d go through her night time skin care routine, put her hair in a bun with a silk scrunchie, and finally change into her pajamas, which were usually just a big t-shirt and panties. She would probably spend some time reading or watching cooking videos on TikTok before going to bed.

“Of course I do.”

…

Devon swiped one last bit of lip gloss across her lips when Luke texted her that he was outside. Taking a deep breath, she grabbed her purse and phone before heading downstairs to meet him.

The anxiety was coming back. Seeing Luke was one thing, but having a full on conversation was another. It didn’t help that the conversation would surely lead to the topic of their relationship. Their breakup.

Luke was feeling similarly. He had paced around the apartment all morning until Ashton gave him a pep talk. He reminded him that if they didn’t talk, Devon would just leave again and nothing would change. Nothing would get fixed.

The sound of a creaky car door opening snapped Luke from his thoughts, looking up to see Devon climbing in. He sent her a smile.

“Hey, Dev.”

“Hey, Luke. Bertha’s still kicking, I see?” Devon joked as she buckled her seatbelt. She knew that Luke wasn’t going to get rid of his beloved Prius until absolutely necessary, but the fact that the car still functioned at all was shocking.

“I think it might be her time soon, but for now, she gets me where I need to go.”

Bertha survived the drive to the small diner that Devon and Luke agreed on, albeit the radio cut out a few times. It was a new place and Luke had been wanting to try it. A part of Devon wondered if he really wanted to try it or if he just didn’t want to take her to one of the places that they frequented when they were together. Frankly, she wouldn’t have wanted to go to one of their old spots either. It would have felt too odd.

Once inside and seated, a waitress came to take coffee orders before scurrying away.

“Tell me about grad school,” Luke began, saving the more serious topics of conversation for later. It was best to start off casual and simply catch up on everything that had happened in the past year.

“It’s alright,” Devon sighed. She would have fibbed, but she felt no need to lie to Luke. “My classes are great. I’ve learned so much and my professors are awesome. It’s just…”

She trailed off, unsure how to put her thoughts into words without sounding pathetic. She didn’t want Luke to judge her.

“What?” He pressed gently, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

“It’s the other students, I guess. Everyone at our school was so great, but the people there are just not so friendly. And most of the other grad students did undergrad there, so I couldn’t really fit my way into a friend group. And there’s just not as much to do in the city as there is here,” she explained, her hands occupying themselves with the napkin in her lap.

She locked eyes with Luke, waiting for his response. He could have used it against her. He could have guilt tripped her for leaving and then not being happy. But Luke would never do that and Devon knew it.

“Well that’s not good,” he mumbled sincerely. “I’m sorry, Dev.”

He truly did feel bad. Every day while Devon was gone, he thought about her. He hoped she was having a good day and that her education was going well. It pained him to think that she wasn’t having a great time.

“It’s okay. I mean, I’m there for my master’s, not to make friends.” The waitress came back with their drinks and took their lunch orders. “Anyways, tell me about your book! What happened with the publishers and everything?”

The fact that Devon’s grad school wasn’t everything that she had imagined was still bothering him but Luke went along, knowing she wouldn’t want to talk about it.

“I sent another draft to one of the ones that was interested before, a while after you left. He said he liked the majority of it but wanted a few different ones. It took me a while to figure out what he wanted, but eventually I got it,” he rambled. “I’m really happy with it.”

“I’m glad,” she replied, heart swelling with pride. “When does it come out?”

“Next week.”

Devon hummed in acknowledgement, already making a mental note to pick up a copy for herself.

“How about work?” She questioned after a sip of her cappuccino.

“You’ll never believe it,” Luke chuckled. “I got promoted to a manager position.”

“Really? It’s about time!”

Devon and Luke had a running joke about Luke’s job. He had been there the longest other than the owner, an old woman who still moved like a teenager. She always hung a promotion over his head, suggesting it but never following through. Luke knew she was planning on giving it to him eventually. It was just a matter of time until she actually did, and the two would always make jokes about it.

They made small talk until their food came, causing the duo to fall into silence. Meaningless conversation about the weather could only last so long until what really needed to be talked about came out.

Soup and sandwiches didn’t last long enough. Their plates were cleared and there was no point in stalling anymore.

“I think we fucked up.”

Luke’s statement was unsugarcoated. He couldn't say for sure how Devon felt, but every day throughout the past year, Luke felt like he was making a mistake. Everyone around them was shocked at the news of their breakup; if there were any college sweethearts that would actually last, it would be them. That certainly didn’t help Luke’s pain when everyone else knew it was a mistake too.

Devon felt tears burn the back of her eyes as she nodded softly. He was right. Perhaps it was best at the time, but they couldn’t do another year of being apart.

“I think we did.”

Her voice broke, taking a deep breath to calm herself down and not cry in the restaurant.

“Hey,” Luke cooed soothingly, noticing the tears and reaching across the table for her hand. As his hand encased hers, at that moment, everything felt like it was going to be okay. “Maybe we should go somewhere more private.”

Luke paid the check and made their way back to Bertha. The need for privacy left them with two options; Devon’s hotel room or the apartment.

“Maybe we could go to my hotel room,” Devon suggested. “That way we won’t bother Ashton.”

That was only part of the reason. Devon wasn’t sure how she would feel if she stepped into her old home in the current state of their relationship. All of the memories her and Luke had would come flooding back. The hotel room was a neutral place without connection to what once was.

Luke agreed and drove to the location he remembered from the night before. The elevator ride up to Devon’s room was heavily silent, hands brushing against each other but never interlocking. The sound of the door shutting behind them once in the room was thunderous, the sound signifying that there was absolutely nothing between them and the inevitable anymore.

They stood in the middle of the room for a moment, looking anywhere but each other. There was no good way to start the conversation. There was no easy way to talk about a painful breakup that led to a year apart, then being reunited.

Without the right words in mind, Devon threw herself at Luke. She wrapped her arms tight around his middle and buried her head into his chest. Luke returned the gesture, holding her as close as he could. The hug said more than what either of them could put into words.

It wasn’t until a few minutes that Devon finally found something to say.

“I can’t keep doing this, Lu,” she whispered shakily. “I can’t keep missing you like this.”

“This is all my fault, Dev. I was the one who didn’t think we could do it. Fuck, honey, I’m so sorry.”

Devon surely didn’t think it was his fault. He had every right to be upset that she was moving so far away, and he had every right to be scared of what the distance would do to their relationship. She felt the same way. They broke up to spare themselves the pain of long distance. It hadn’t taken long for them to realize that the pain of being broken up was much, much worse.

As much as she tried to push the thoughts away, Devon couldn’t help thinking about how if she hadn’t left, this wouldn’t have happened. She knew that she did nothing wrong and that her education was just as important, but she had never intended to pursue it in expense of her relationship.

“This isn’t your fault. It was both of us. We were just saving ourselves from the pain. Besides, I was the one that left-”

“No,” Luke cut her off, glancing down at her. “Don’t you dare blame yourself for this. You did absolutely nothing wrong.”

Devon lifted her head up to meet his gaze. His face was serious but his eyes were completely sincere. She had always feared that he would hold a grudge against her for leaving. One look into the gorgeous blue eyes that she fell in love with told her that he didn’t.

“I never want you to blame this on you going to grad school. I want you to know that I completely support your decision and all your aspirations, honey. I will never hold that against you.”

Tears brimmed Devon’s eyes again, but these weren’t tears of pain. They were of love and adoration. Luke was the most amazing man she had ever known. He had a heart of gold and was one hell of a poet. She had never felt so loved as she felt by him.

“Please tell me this isn’t over, Luke,” she whispered, hands moving to cup his bearded cheeks. A single tear slipped down the soft skin of Devon’s cheek. “I love you. I never stopped. Please tell me there can be an us again.”

Luke wasn’t sure when he started crying, but a sudden wetness on his cheek alerted him of the act. His hands tugged Devon’s waist to bring her closer, noses brushing touching and breath mingling. They could hardly remember the last time they had been that close, the last time they felt love so intensely.

“I’ve wanted us back since that day a year ago. I love you more than anything, Devon. Always have, always will.”

For the first time in over a year, Luke and Devon’s lips connected in a kiss. It was nothing short of passionate and heavy. The love they hadn’t been able to express for so long was rising to the surface, coming out in the form of mumbled words, bruising kisses and desperate touches.

Frantic fingers worked the buttons of Devon’s flannel, slowly pushing her backwards until the back of her knees hit the edge of the bed. The offending item was discarded to the floor and the newly reunited couple crawled onto the bed. Devon shivered under Luke, a reaction caused by a mixture of the cool sheets against her bare back and his lips on her neck, his beard providing a new sensation that she hadn’t felt before.

The past year was difficult. If they could go back in time and fix it, they would jump on the opportunity without a second thought. But just maybe, it made them stronger. Maybe they needed to begin to wilt in order for them to bloom.

…

“What do we do now?”

Devon curled closer to Luke as a crisp breeze cut through the darkening evening. He sighed and wrapped the blanket tighter around them.

“I’m not sure.”

The couple sat in the trunk of Luke’s car with the door popped open, parked at a lookout point that overlooked the city. It was something they used to do all the time in college. It was comforting to return to their old traditions, knowing that they had fixed what they broke.

It was Sunday evening, the day before Devon flew back to her grad school city. They may have gotten back together, but they were still faced with the same problem as when they broke up. Devon still had a whole year of grad school left, miles away.

“I’m not sure I want to go back,” Devon admitted, eyes fixed on the city lights. Luke snapped his head to look at her, eyebrows furrowed.

“What do you mean? Are you saying you don’t want to finish your degree?”

Luke would never forgive himself if she gave up her master’s degree because of him. He didn’t want the distance either, but he could never hold her back from her dreams.

“No, no, I want to finish. I just...I wasn’t happy in that city. This is my home. I’m happy here,” she explained. She tore her eyes away from the view in favor of looking at her boyfriend. “With you.”

Luke dipped his head down, pressing a kiss to her temple. Devon leaned into the affection that she had missed so much.

“It’s up to you, honey. I don’t want to hold you back. Just know that if you do stay there, I’m going to really try this time. I promise we’ll make it work, and I’ll be here for you no matter what.”

Devon grinned at his words. She didn’t realize how much she needed to hear that; that the past wouldn’t repeat itself. However, she didn’t want to put either of them through the suffering of a long distance relationship when she didn’t even want to be away.

“I appreciate that, bubs. But I just can’t do that to us after everything we’ve been through.” She thought for a moment, trying to decipher the best course of action. “Maybe I could finish online.”

Luke nodded in acknowledgement; it was a good compromise. Devon got to finish her degree at the school with the best program, and she didn’t have to be so far away. It benefitted Luke as well, not just her. However, he didn’t want to sway her either way.

“If that’s what you want, honey. This is your decision.”

He gave her shoulders a squeeze as she thought it over. The only sounds to be heard were the gentle hum of the city below them and the cold breeze that ruffled the trees. It was so familiar. They had spent countless nights like this, simply enjoying each other’s company and rewinding from hectic college life. Luke had to remind himself that they weren’t undergraduate students anymore; Devon was in grad school and he was a published poet.

It was baffling how everything felt like it had gone back to the way it was, yet things were actually so very different.

“That’s what I want,” Devon announced with confidence after a few moments of pondering. “I want to stay here.”

Matching lovesick grins spread across their faces as they locked eyes. She scooted closer to Luke, if that was even possible, nudging her nose against his.

“You’re sure?” He verified, eyes fluttering closed.

“So very sure.”

He chuckled lowly before closing the gap. The air between them was finally clear. Their relationship was fixed and they would still be together. No more pain and suffering.

Devon rested her head on Luke’s shoulder when the kiss broke, breathing out a content sigh. They enjoyed the silence for a moment before Devon piped up with a question.

“Can I move back into the apartment?”

“Of course you can,” Luke chuckled. “That’s our place. Why couldn’t you?”

“What about Ashton?”

“He understands our situation, babe. He saw this coming. He already asked Calum and Michael if he could take the extra bedroom at their flat if it came to this, and they agreed. As long as you’re fine with living with him for a little while until he moves out, then he’s fine with it too.”

Devon let out a breathy laugh, nodding in understanding.

“I mean, I’ll still have to go back to my apartment out there for a bit to get my stuff.” She looked up at Luke with a hopeful glint in her eye. “Do you think you could come with and help? It’s alright if you can’t.”

“I can come, honey. I’ll see if I can fly out with you tomorrow, but if not I can come a couple days later, so you don’t have to change yours.” A smirk spread across his face before continuing. “Or we could just wait to go together and stay here for another few days. You know, catch up a little more.”

Devon laughed and playfully rolled her eyes, nudging his shoulder.

“What a way with words you have, Hemmings. No wonder you’re a poet.”

“Speaking of poetry, I have something for you.”

Luke pressed a swift kiss to Devon’s cheek before hopping out of the trunk. He opened the door to the back seat and rifled around for a moment, then returning to face Devon. He removed his hand from behind his back, holding it out to her.

“For you.”

Devon took the item from his hand curiously. It only took a moment for her to realize what it was.

It was a book titled The Life of a Flower. The cover was a stunning photo of two orchids side by side, and Luke’s name was printed across the bottom.

His first poetry book.

“You’re the first person to get a copy,” he mumbled sheepishly, breaking Devon from her trance of staring at it. She couldn’t help the tears of pride that welled in her eyes. If seeing the actual, physical book in person was such an emotional moment for her, she couldn’t even imagine how Luke must have felt when he saw it for the first time.

“This is incredible, Luke,” she whispered, smiling despite her tears. “I’m so proud of you, bubs, so fucking proud.”

Devon dropped the blanket from her shoulders and hopped down from the trunk. Her arms found their way around his neck while his found her waist. Pride was an understatement. She had been there every step of the way, and seeing his dreams finally come to life was a wonderful sight to see.

“Thank you, Devon,” Luke whispered into her hair. “For being my biggest supporter. I wouldn’t be here without you.”

“It’s not me, Lu,” she mumbled in response, tilting her head up to look at him. “You have a gift. Your writing got you here, not me.”

“I would have given up on writing a long time ago if I didn’t have you. You give me an endless amount of inspiration that I never had before. A poet’s words are meaningless if his muse isn’t worth writing about.”

“Damn. William Shakespeare has nothing on you,” she joked although she was absolutely melting on the inside. Luke groaned playfully.

“You always ruin the moment. Anyway, look at the first pages.”

Devon removed her arms from his neck to flip through, skipping past the title page, copyright and table of contents until she found what he was talking about. She found a dedications page that only made her tear up again, reading:

“For Devon. You’ll always be my orchid.”

[nev3rfound]

waiting to unpause : s.r

brief summary: everyone has a soul mate. some just take a bit longer to find theirs than most. 

word count: 1.9k requested: nope, just another idea I had in work lmao warnings: mention of blood, some swearing.

* masterlistin’ 

* commissions 

Even before everything in his life changed, Steve knew of soulmates. He witnessed people he grew up with walking hand in hand with theirs whilst he trailed behind Bucky. He would watch Bucky go from one girl to the next, claiming each of them was potentially the one. Steve knew none of them ever were but went along with it for Bucky’s sake.

Part of him always wished he would find his. He knew the signs of a soul mate. You would feel their pain. You could see what had hurt them, a mark, a cut or a bruise would appear on your body. The slightest of injuries would occur to most, but never to Steve.

“It’s official, I’m broken, Buck.” Steve would sigh as Bucky walked him to his front door, hanging his arm around his best friends shoulders.

Bucky shook his head whenever Steve tried to deny his chance of happiness. “All you gotta do is find a girl who looks like she’s dying, can’t be too hard.” Bucky joked, trying to catch a smile on Steve’s face. Sometimes it would work, other times the weight of loneliness became too intense and he shrugged it off, shutting his door behind him.

When Steve went to the war and met Peggy, he thought that was it. Inside he wanted it to be her, the loving woman who was so powerful and seemingly fearless. Who wouldn’t want her?

But when he glanced down to see a cut on her wrist, he never felt that happen. He didn’t have a mark across his skin like hers. Steve flicked his skin multiple times and watched redness burn, but as he would glance to Peggy she remained still. There wasn’t anything on her.

Looking ahead as he crossed the ocean he sighed, realising his options. “I’ve got to, Peggy.” Steve spoke with a heavy heart through the radio, unaware of the tears forming in Peggy’s eyes as she sat alongside Howard. “There’s nothing left for me. No family, no friends, no soulmate.” He sighed lightly as he neared the ice. “Take care, Peg.”

Closing his eyes, he hit the ice and felt everything drain. All Steve felt was the cold bury underneath his skin as he drifted off, never to open his eyes again.

*

When you were born, you were freezing. It didn’t matter what the Doctors did or tried, you couldn’t warm up. Within the first few hours of you being born, you nearly died due to the lack of warmth in your body. Your Mother cried, not understanding why this was happening to you.

If only they knew why.

For the first ten years of your life, you were kept wrapped up. You were forever cold, never able to feel truly warm. The risk of hypothermia was always a constant in your life.

Even in the midst of summer, you remained in layers; a scarf around your neck whilst everyone else wore vest tops and sweated. You wished you weren’t different, you wished you could be normal.

At twenty, you woke up in a hot sweat. You looked around your bedroom in case it was on fire, but there wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. You rushed out of bed and went straight to your bathroom where you saw beads of sweat. Actual beads of sweat running from your hairline. You laughed and you cried as you didn’t shiver for the first time in your entire life.

You called for your parents, none of you understood, but you were relieved to feel warmth at long last. For once, you felt normal.

If only that sense of relief lasted longer than a year.

You would forever wake up with bruises and cuts lining your skin. Whoever your soulmate was, they sure as hell didn’t live an easy life.

Once the marks started, your parents explained to you what it meant. How everyone in the world has someone they can be with. You listened as they tended to the newest wound, a bullet scrape as they wiped away the pain as tears formed in your eyes.

“My soulmate is fucking suicidal aren’t they?” You cried, a laugh escaping your lips mid sob as your parents exchanged a worried glance, fearing to agree with you.

Over the next few years, you grew to hate your soulmate. They were never calm or without some form of injury. Twice you woke up with a black eye causing your friend to jump out of her skin when you walked into the kitchen.

“I’ve had enough.” She sighed loudly before typing something into her phone as you sat with a bag of frozen peas over your eye. “We’re getting tattoos.”

You simply blinked out of your good eye. “A tattoo?” You spoke quietly, watching as she nodded in response.

“Obviously your soul mate can feel the pain, and they’ll get the outline of the tattoo as well. Who knows, pick something unique you’ll find them.” She suggests and you sit, contemplating the idea as you finish breakfast feeling the peas defrosting over your bruised skin.

Leaving the tattoo parlour, you looked down at your upper arm. It was a stem of lavender and a snowflake settling alongside the side. You smiled at the design, pleased as you walked home.

You only managed to get halfway when you saw the news reports. Everyone began to run in all directions as fear ignited in the crowds. “What’s happening?!” You yelled to your friend who gripped your hand tightly as she pulled you inside of a coffee shop.

“It’s happening again, another invasion.” Her voice dripped in fear as her eyes widened at the sights outside. She held you close, feeling your clothes begin to dampen as blood-stained your top and jeans. “Y/n, you’re bleeding.” She stammered, looking down to see you unconscious in her arms.

After the battle of New York, you decided to find somewhere quieter to live. You couldn’t leave the city, it was your home.

You ended up in an old apartment block. It was heavily dated, but the rent was within budget, unlike the majority of places you found. You could get comfortable, despite the chipped paint that you would find flakes of on your floor every day or the neighbour you never met.

One of your neighbours, you met simply by chance. You were walking out, about to go for a drink with an old friend when she caught you off guard. She introduced herself.

“Sorry, I’m Sharon.” She held out her hand, a small scar across her index finger.

You began to notice the small marks more and more. Part of it was paranoia, the other was mere curiosity. “Y/n. And I’m sorry for staring.”

The two of you became close friends. With Sharon’s long disjointed hours, you would find time whenever you could. It became a routine of yours as she mentioned her neighbour, the one you’ve heard across the creaking floorboards but have yet to meet in person.

It was only when there was an intense heatwave in New York that Sharon asked about your soul mate. You couldn’t bear to be kept in layers, so you walked around in your bra and shorts.

You could feel Sharon’s eyes widening as she saw the scars covering your skin. “Gotta blame good ol’ soulmate.” You would joke, knowing humour is the only way to cover the pain of it all.

Sharon sat down with you on the small balcony, designed clearly for a single person alone. You sat and spoke for hours about the reality of having someone out there destined for you.

“I’m at a point where I think it’s bullshit.” You tell her as you sip your drink. “I was born with hypothermia, lived the first twenty years of my life as an icicle and now I’m forever being battered.” You shake your head, glancing over to see something change in Sharon’s expression. “You alright over there?” You ask with a smile.

Sharon snaps out of her realisation with a curt nod. “Yeah, yeah. Just thinking.” She tells you, listening as you carry on but in her head, all she’s thinking is how she can get you and him in the same place at the same time.

It took months for her to get you both to be in at the same time. Sharon learnt neither of you were easy people to pin down. She anticipated it with Steve, but there was still so much of you that remained a mystery. 

When her Aunt Peg died, she told her to make sure Steve found his soul mate. It sounded like a daunting task, but finding someone covered in scars from battles they’d never been in couldn't be too hard, right?

“Y/n, you in?” Sharon knocked on your door loudly, knowing Steve would be in, listening to his old music. “Y/n, I really need your help. I’ve been locked out again.” She sighs loudly, hoping to hear his door open.

Just like that, Steve walks out of his apartment. He stands tall, his eyes slightly bloodshot as he forces a small smile. “Hey Sharon, you alright?” He asks as he stands by his door, crossing his arms. 

Sharon nods. “Yeah, I got locked out.” She laughs uneasily, continuing to knock on your door. “Y/n has my spare, I hope she’s in.” 

Steve doesn’t reply, he stands unsure what do to. “I’ll leave you to it then,” Steve replies and turns around, only stopping when he feels a light pain spread across his right shin.

“-shit sorry!” Your voice sounds loudly through your door, and suddenly Steve isn’t so desperate to go back into his apartment. 

Opening your front door, you rub your right shin as you stand in front of Sharon, holding up her key. “What’d you do this time?” She laughs lightly, looking down. 

You roll your eyes. “I just tripped over my shoes. Hit my shin once again.” You tell her with a small smile before glancing over her shoulder, seeing a stranger stood to observe. “Hi, I don’t think we’ve met?” You call out, stepping forward toward the broad man. 

Hesitating, Steve watches your smile falter as you pass Sharon. 

Steve glances to Sharon who nods, giving him an encouraging smile as he steps closer toward you, shaking your hand. He focuses on your face, noticing a scar above your left temple. It’s just a coincidence, it must be. 

“I’m Steve.” He introduces himself, his hand still in yours as you nervously laugh before pulling away. 

“Y/n.” You reply, stuck in a moment as you stare into his eyes. 

Lifting your arm up, you run your fingers through your hair and Steve’s eyes wander to the pastel tattoo on your inner upper arm. He tries to encourage his heart to not plummet, but he’s caught staring by Sharon. 

“Anyway, I’ll drop the keys back to you, Y/n?” She calls out, knowing you can’t hear her as you smile to Steve, feeling a sense of comfort cross your body as you stand in front of him. 

Closing her front door, Sharon smiles to herself knowing she would’ve made her Aunt Peg proud. She finally helped Steve find his soul mate, and prove there is someone for everyone. 

[serendipitousrambles]

Imperio

chapter 4

Detention wasn’t so bad. They’d mostly all walked in silence, Hagrid pointing out facts that didn’t exactly make them feel better, talking about all the dangerous things that lived in the forest.

Eleven walked behind the boys, not quite feeling like she fit in. There was an awkward atmosphere in the air but Mike felt a strange longing to talk to her - about anything.

He stopped and pretended to tie his shoe so he would fall back to walk with Eleven. She glanced at him but didn’t say anything. Mike opened his mouth to say something and then decided not to. You’re such a dork Mike, he told himself. Say something, anything.

“I’m, I’m Mike.” He held out his hand and she looked at it before hesitantly shaking it.

“Eleven.” Her voice was quiet and unsure.

“It’s a strange name, if you don’t mind me saying.” Mike instantly regretted that, he probably made her feel weird.

“Yeah I guess it is.” She looked at him, he couldn’t recognise the expression on her face. “I’ve never been fond of it.”

“Do you have a nickname? What do your friends call you?” He shoved his hands in his pockets.

“No…” She shook her head. “No, I don’t… don’t have friends.” Eleven looked away, almost… ashamed.

“You could be our friend?” Mike smiled, trying to read her expression. “We could call you El, short for Eleven?”

“Friends?” She allowed herself a small smile.

“Yeah.”

Eleven met his eyes in the darkness of the forest and they stopped walking.

“I’d like that.” She whispered. “Very much.”

“What’re you two doin’ back ‘ere.” Hagrid shone the lantern in their faces and signalled them to catch up with the others.

It took a while for El to fully fit in with the group. She clashed with Lucas which was only natural, there was a rivalry between the two houses. But eventually he had accepted her as one of them and by Christmas they were acting like old friends. She would join them at breakfast and lunch when the table rules were less strict and they would all eat together. Eleven was actually kind of funny, she got used to the boys and would occasionally crack out a joke, Mike laughing harder than the others.

Mike soon realised he had a crush on Eleven, but they had become such good friends that he felt weird about it. Instead he decided that it was probably best to hide those feelings, he didn’t want to scare her away.

The Christmas holidays were the longest 2 weeks of his life. Mike was eager to get back to Hogwarts and see his friends - but mostly El again. Nancy had embarrassed him by asking Mike at the table Christmas day how his “girlfriend” was doing. She’d seen them walking around school and she could tell her brother was crushing hard on the girl. Mike however spat back about how Steve was, causing their family to look at Nancy. He’d been in trouble with her for that one.

When the boys reunited at school, it had been as if they’d never left. Each boy had an exciting tale about their holiday. Even Will, who Mike had learnt didn’t have much money, had had a cosy Christmas with his mother and brother. All that was except El. She’d stayed at Hogwarts over the holidays.

“It was nice actually. There were only a few of us so we had Christmas dinner around the table with Dumbledore and a few other teachers.” She poked her cereal with her spoon, her voice unconvincing.

“Maybe next year…you could join my family?”

El lifted her head, “You have no idea how much I’d like that.” Mike grinned. “But I can’t. My father would never…it wouldn’t be possible.”

Mike’s smile faded. “It’d be no trouble, honestly.”

She simply gave him a sad smile. “Sometimes there are things you can’t change Mike.”

He nodded in understanding, still wishing she didn’t have to spend Christmas alone. Maybe next year he would tell his parents he wanted to stay, he could keep her company.

March, 1983

Lucas and Will were locked in a game of Wizard chess, and Dustin was still trying to sort out the map. It had been almost 4 months since they’d found it and still nothing. The weather had begun to get warmer so the boys sat beneath a tree outside near the lake on Saturday. Mike was trying to catch up with some charms homework and tried to levitate an apple - to no success.

Eleven found them and collapsed on to her back next to Mike, looking up at the sky.

“Haven’t you figured that map out yet?” El asked Dustin as she stretched her arms out above her head making eye contact with Mike and they smiled at each other, a blush creeping on his face.

“It’s hard alright? I managed to get a little bit and the map seems to be prompting but it’s not easy. I’m a ravenclaw but I’m not Merlin.” Dustin threw his hands up in frustration.

Will and Lucas began laughing, momentarily forgetting their chess game as the entire group burst out laughing at Dustin’s comparison.

After a while, Eleven, Will and Lucas went to stretch their legs and walked around the edge of the lake.

Dustin noticed Mike looking at Eleven as they walked away. “Mate, you’re staring.”

Mike tore his eyes away, “What?”

“You fancy El. It’s so obvious.” Dustin was tapping the paper absentmindedly with his wand.

“Whatever.” Mike mumbled. “She’s cool. And funny, not to mention brave but she’s my friend. But swear you won’t tell Lucas or Will I said those things about her. They’ll never let me live it down.

“I solemnly swear I won’t tell anyone.” Dustin laughed, continuing to tap his wand against the map. Suddenly, a pattern began to emerge on the paper.

“Guys! Come here!” He shouted, jumping up as his friends came running over.

“That must be it, well, nearly it!” Dustin showed them the map. “When I tapped the map and said something along the lines of "I solemnly swear” it started to show parts.“

"So what’s your plan now Mr Merlin?” Lucas grinned. “Keep saying random words until it works?”

“Well yeah.” Dustin was completely serious. “Whoever created this was clearly a genius and from what I gather they were all about pranks and mischief. So I guess just saying some things along those lines.”

Will and El exchanged confused glances while Lucas rolled his eyes. Mike leaned in and watched Dustin tap the map with his wand.

He cleared his throat. “I solemnly swear to make mischief.” They all waited, something was appearing on the map.

“Mr Moony would like to congratulate Mr Henderson on getting his large nose stuck in other people’s businesses. Mr Prongs agrees with Mr Moony and would like to add that Mr Henderson is one nosy git.” Dustin read out. “Shit. I don’t really have a big nose do I?”

The boys and El burst out laughing.

“It’s obviously charmed to insult people trying to get in.” Lucas said between laughter.

“Wait there’s more: Mr Padfoot thinks Mr Henderson is up to no good and should quite while he’s ahead.” Dustin smiled. “Thats it!” He kissed the map and held up his wand.

“Dustin wha-” Will said but was cut off by Dustin’s confident declaration.

“I solemnly swear that I’m up to no good.”

They crowded round to watch the map spring to life:

Messrs

MOONY, WORMTAIL, PADFOOT & PRONGS

are proud to present:

The Marauder’s Map

“The Marauder’s Map?” Dustin grinned. “This is so cool.”

“Open it then.” Lucas nudged him, eager to see what was inside.

“Holy shit.” Dustin said in awe as he saw the little footprints moving about the page.

“Is that?” Will leaned over Lucas’ shoulder to get a better look.

“You can see where everyone at Hogwarts is.”

“Hey it’s us.” Mike pointed to the huddle of feet out by the lake with their names surrounding it.

“Why would someone make this?” El looked confused. “Why would you need to know where everyone is?”

Dustin shrugged but Lucas answered, “Clearly if you were planning on some mischief you could sneak out without getting caught because you’d know where everyone is. And look, secret passages? Think of what we could do!”

“I don’t know guys, it sounds a little shifty.” Will looked apprehensive.

“Relax, we’re not going to go take down the Ministry of Magic. It’s just a map of Hogwarts.” Lucas patted Will on the back jokingly.

“Come on we should go. They’re going to be serving dinner soon.” Mike pulled his watch out of his jean pocket.

They walked back up to the castle, Dustin shoving the map in the back of his jeans and pulling his jumper down over his pocket to hide it.

The final few months went by in a blur: Ravenclaw had won the house cup and Gryffindor won the Quidditch cup (Mike almost vomited when he saw Nancy kiss Steve to congratulate him for winning the game). The boys hadn’t used the map all that much, mostly just to sneak out and meet up at night. But there wasn’t much they could use it for, it mostly went forgotten, tucked amongst Dustin’s belongings.

The final train ride home after the end of year feast was one of dread. Sure they’d all been separated at Christmas but that was only two weeks. It wouldn’t be until September that they saw each other again. A lot could change over those 2 months. Mike was mostly worried about El. Would she come back and realise how uncool he was and leave to make new friends? He dreaded to think about how she would be spending the summer. From what he knew, her adoptive father wasn’t the kindest man in the world, the adoption itself being another publicity stunt to gain votes.

When the train finally pulled up back in London, the boys pulled El in for a group hug. Promises were made to send owls about their summers and to keep in touch. At long last they separated and rejoined their families. Nancy had already said goodbye to Steve, still embarrassed around her parents about him. She was busy taking about how her O.W.Ls went when Mike finally joined his family.

His mother smothered him with questions about his year even though she’d already heard about it at Christmas. With one last glance he saw El stood solemnly at the station being what looked like reprimanded by Brenner. She’d only just got back and yet he already seemed inconvenienced by her.

Mike felt something lurch in his heart watching the sight but before he knew it, she had been dragged away. He wouldn’t see or hear from her until September.

[fandomverseofanthony]

The Vampyre Of Time And Memory

Hey guys, it’s me. I. bet. you. thought. that. I. waaaaaaaas. DEAD!

Whaaaaaaat? TWO references to Queen’s of the Stone Age? (Hint: Druncle’s lyrics are not of my creation, but a song of QotSA)

Jumping back into the massive fandomverse of Fallout, I wrote a story featuring @ohmdo‘s Druncle and @vectober‘s V! (Also mention of @spacialkiwi‘s Trish and @commonwealth-hugs‘s Abby!) Enjoy!

              The gentle feeling of warmth. A familiar caress of the cheek. Hazy memories of a better time, long since passed...

Waking from a deep slumber, Anthony was disappointed to find that he was all alone, laying within a heap of scrap metal. A single ray of light pierced through the smog, beaming down on him. Raising a hand in front of his face, he tried his best to keep himself from being blinded.

              Anthony’s mind felt scrambled, unsure of how he got into his current position. He could only assume that the feeling was similar to a hangover. Letting out a long groan as he shifted uncomfortably in place, he combed through his memories, looking for anything that might provide some insight. His concentration, however, was broken by the arrival of a stranger, their head eclipsing the sun. Straining to focus, his vision corrected itself just in time to see that the person standing over him was pointing the barrel of their pistol directly at him.

              “Funny… I don’t remember scheduling a wake-up call.” Anthony quipped, subtly scanning the area for something to defend himself with, just in case.

              It wasn’t his first time being held at gunpoint, nor would it likely be the last. Anthony’s bad luck usually put him into unfortunate situations such as this, rarely able to talk his way out of them, but it never stopped him from trying. Experience taught him that not everyone in the wasteland was a crazed psychopath.

              The figure stood there, stoic, dressed from head to toe in black, including the mask that was keeping their identity a mystery. Their attire reminded him of the Crimson Dragoons, from the Anchorage Reclamation simulation, but far less gaudy. They were fairly tall, with the tactical clothing clinging to their toned, muscular build. He also noticed that his “Peacemaker” gauss rifle was slung over their shoulder. Whoever they were, it was clear that they were either the remnant of a well-trained group of operatives, or really good at looking the part.

               “Who are you? How do you get here?” the stranger questioned. Their voice was deep, yet smooth, not at all what Anthony was expecting.

               “Where exactly is ‘here’?” Anthony noted, single brow raised, hoping that the person would be friendly enough to provide an answer.

                Despite the stranger’s mask obscuring their expression, Anthony was certain that they were frowning beneath it. Pulling the hammer of the pistol back, they held it closer to Anthony, finger hovering over the trigger. “I’m not fond of repeating myself. Answer the question, or I’ll have to waste a perfectly good bullet. You’ll be stuck bleeding out slowly and painfully…” they insisted, a tinge of annoyance in their voice.

                Keeping his composure, Anthony complied with the individual’s request. “My name is Anthony, and I honestly have no idea how I got here.”

                The stranger hesitated, leaving Anthony feeling slightly uneasy. The silence was almost unbearable, waiting to see whether they would believe him, or if he was soon to be left in an unmarked grave. The person cautiously holstered their pistol, while Anthony let out a heavy sigh of relief in response. Pulling him out of the heap, he took a moment to observe his surroundings. Below the hill was a makeshift gathering of houses, barricades, and crude defenses. It was the lighthouse that stood behind him that gave the location. Kingsport.

                Anthony remembered visiting Kingsport in the past, but it was nothing like its current state. He wondered exactly how long he had been out for, and why he still couldn’t remember much before waking up in that heap. His last memory was in Goodneighbor, assisting Trish with some routine repairs. Anything after that was fractured, at best.

                Taking a moment to brush himself off, his attention returned to the stranger. Reaching out, he attempted to shake their hand, having a few questions of his own. “Now that we’re all nice and civil, how long has Kingsport been like this? Last time I was here, there was nothing but abandoned buildings, left over from before the war. Now this place seems to be flourishing, I can only assume thanks to you…” he paused, trying to get a name out of them.

                The person firmly shook Anthony’s hand. “Druncle.”

                “…Druncle?” Anthony’s brow raised once again, as a slight smirk formed, wondering if it was a nickname of some kind.

                They nodded. “M-hm.” The two laughed.

                Druncle held out Anthony’s rifle, “I believe this belongs to you.”

                As the weapon exchanged hands, Anthony paused. Giving a warm smile, it was as if he was reunited with an old friend. “Yeah, this has gotten me out of a lot of trouble. Saved a lot of lives too.”

                Druncle placed a hand on Anthony’s shoulder. “Let me give you the tour.”

                Anthony remained in Kingsport, helping wherever his talents could best be put to use. Druncle and Anthony didn’t speak much with one another at first, but something about Druncle made Anthony feel that they were kindred spirits. Every now and then they would share a drink, learning a little more about one another, sharing exploits of action, adventure, horror, drama, and the truly bizarre. Druncle typically favored a small glass of Scotch, while Anthony stuck with his usual bottle of Nuka Cola.

               Despite the sense of accomplishment Anthony felt from helping out, and the joy from making new friends, something didn’t feel right. He felt hollow, incomplete, as if a major part of him was missing, yet he had no clue what was causing it. Night after night, he found it harder to sleep. It was slowly taking its toll.

               One particular night, Anthony wandered towards the lighthouse, drawn by a haunting melody drifting through the night, telling a story of love and loss. Rounding the building, Anthony was surprised to see Druncle sitting at the top of the lighthouse, on the ledge, solemnly strumming a worn wooden guitar, while overlooking the sea.

               “Where O where have you been my love? Where O where can you be? It’s been so long, since the moon has gone. O what a wreck you’ve made me. Are you there over the ocean? Are you there, up in the sky? Until the return of my love, this lullaby…” Druncle gently placed the guitar to his side, sensing Anthony’s presence.

               Sitting down next to Druncle, Anthony queried, “Can’t sleep either, huh?”

               It wasn’t the real question that he wanted to ask. His curiosity clawing at the back of his mind, insisting that he know more about the song, but Anthony knew better than to pry into someone else’s business.

                Druncle lowered his head, finding it difficult to hide his heavy heart.

                Anthony shifted his focus away from Druncle, choosing to peer beyond the horizon as he continued. “Don’t worry, I get it. You don’t have to answer. We’ve both seen a lot, been through a lot, and it’s a hefty burden to bear…” Leaning back, he looked up at what used to be the sky, now nothing more than lingering fallout. “…sometimes I just ask myself why I always seem to survive, while those around me tend to die. Is it because my continued existence is some sort of punishment? Am I paying for something I’ve done or should have done?”

                Anthony didn’t expect a response from Druncle. Who truly knew the answer to his question? Even just being able to get such feelings off of his chest, sharing his thoughts with someone who knows what it feels like, brought him some semblance of peace.

                Druncle placed a comforting hand on Anthony’s shoulder. Rising to their feet, guitar in hand, they offered, “You ever think that... you’re here because there’s some great purpose out there for you? Waiting and all that?” They couldn’t help but let out a drained chuckle, as Anthony waved them off. “Yeah, me neither.”

                Patting Anthony’s shoulder, Druncle slowly stepped away, turning back just long enough to finish, “You can’t save everyone… guilt doesn’t change that fact. You’ll get lost in the dark feeling it. Trust me…”

                As Druncle disappeared into the lighthouse, Anthony felt a chill run down his spine, putting him on edge. Jumping up, he nervously looked all around him, unable to shake the feeling that he was being watched. Quickly making his way down the lighthouse stairs, he almost slammed into a well-dressed women, on his way out of the door.

                “Ah, so this is where you’ve been hiding…” the woman scoffed.

The woman’s hair was as sleek and black as a raven, peaking out of what looked like a summer hat, both it and her dress matching in shade, with only a hint of purple throughout. Her skin was a pale bronze, with dark eyes that felt as if they were piercing his very soul.

                Before Anthony could even open his mouth to speak, she interjected, “I’ve no time for games, and any questions you may have for me will all be answered with this…” she held out an ornate rose, made out of various kinds of metal.

                Anthony was hesitant at first, this encounter definitely falling under the ‘truly bizarre’ category, but something about the woman seemed oddly familiar. Against his better judgement, he felt as if he could trust her. The moment his fingers made contact with the rose, it felt as if the last puzzle piece finally clicked into place.

               The flood of memories, of events that once were, but now were nothing more than a bad dream, rushed through his mind. Anthony nearly lost his balance, as the onslaught sent him reeling backwards. Horrific visions of Goodneighbor in ruins, those closest to him either dead or experiencing great pain and suffering. Anthony’s eyes welled up with tears as he was forced to relive every agonizing moment. Among all of the darkness, one beacon of light managed to shine through. Alaelys.

              Anthony carefully peeled back the petals of the rose, finding a wedding ring inside. The ring he made for the love of his life, the one person he was willing to go to any lengths to be with and keep safe. He made the ring, and the rose that it was encased in, in hopes of asking for her hand in marriage. It was on that day that he planned on proposing to Alaelys. It was that day that Elder Maxson loyalists ambushed Goodneighbor, laying waste to the town, getting revenge for the death of their leader.

               In the aftermath, a sharp dressed man appeared before Anthony, black vest, slacks, and dress shoes to match his slicked-back hair, a stark contrast to his warm skin and crimson red dress shirt. A devilish individual that Anthony had run into time and time again, offering to fix everything. All it would cost him was that which he holds most dear, Alaelys.

               The gentleman referred to himself as Guile, insisting that all he would do was rewrite reality, ensuring that Anthony and Alaelys would never have met, while also ensuring that several painful events and deaths never come to pass. To make things easier, he would even make sure that Anthony would not remember the deal, and what was lost.

               Anthony asked for a moment to decide. For once Guile was willing to wait, sure that this time he would get his way. Vanishing into thin air, Guile’s laughter still echoed in his absence. Anthony called out a letter, no, a name. V.

               A woman stepped out from the shadows of Goodneighbor, the same woman that handed Anthony the rose. Anthony knew her, through his friend Abby. He knew that she hated Guile, or more accurately what Guile is, what she is. They were beings not of this world, of great and terrible power, and that’s exactly what he needed at that time.

              Anthony pleaded for V to help him make things right, outsmarting Guile in the process. So many lives would be saved, and V gets to revel in the fact that Guile was tricked by a mere mortal. The very thought of it caused her lips to curl into an inhuman smile. She agreed to help Anthony out, taking the flower as part of the plan, but only because he was a close friend of Abby’s and for the humiliation that would be inflicted upon her nemesis.

              Snapping back to the present, Anthony wiped the tears from his eyes. V was taken by surprise by Anthony’s sudden embrace, squeezing her tight. “Th-Thank you…” he stammered, almost at a loss for words.

              V wasn’t sure how to respond. The only other person to ever have hugged her, and lived, was Abby, and she knew Abby would not be pleased if she killed Anthony. Instead, she stroked his hair, as if he was a pet, before lightly forcing them apart. V nodded, blinking out of existence as she stepped back. Looking back down at the rose, Anthony knew there was only one more thing left to do…

              The following morning, Druncle was going through the usual routine of patrolling Kingsport, but felt as if something was missing. They were surprised to find that Anthony was nowhere to be found. Arriving at the lighthouse, there was a bottle of Scotch with a note pinned to it.

Hey Druncle, I’m sorry that I left without saying goodbye, but every second counts. I guess you were right about having a greater purpose. Maybe we all have one, and it just takes being at the right place at the right time to realize that. I appreciate your hospitality, your wisdom, and most of all, your friendship. Oh, and not shooting me in the face, the first time we met… Yeah… This won’t be the last time we see each other, as once I reach this journey’s end, I’ll have one hell of a story to share with you, over a drink. So, as a token of my gratitude, I left this bottle of Scotch, that I purchased off of a caravan not too far from town. It cost a pretty cap, but hey, you’re worth it. Enjoy, my friend.

                                                        Until we meet again,                                                                      Anthony

[numeneramalcoharly]

Part 5: A Hiero's Spirit

For Malco, sleep was becoming a thing of the past, work on the towers was taking longer than expected. He was used to getting up before the sun, but now he was also going to bed long after it sank. He couldn’t remember a night in the past 2 weeks during which he slept for longer than 3-4 hours. They weren’t the best hours, but he was keeping the city safe. Just a few months ago, Malco would have thought this whole Margr scare was a hoax. Back then, the only people who talked of Margr were hacks and nutjobs. Now those same hacks and nutjobs rule the town, and who could blame them, they were right. 

Malco walked down the shadowy stairway, tightening the the loop on his utility belt that held his hammers and nails. He unfurled the sack that contained the metal balls his master had given him, it was a good time to practice his multitasking. He still couldn’t see the balls, but he could feel them. He could feel other metals too, nails in the floor, the brass of the candle holder, and the metal of the door handle, worked as beacons guiding him through the inky blackness that enveloped the household. He got started to adjust the grieves and gauntlets he left near the door way. He called them to him and pulled on the tumbler inside the door to open it.  “How’s that for control.” He thought, the image of his master being able to sort through a bin of metal dust and organize it into sorted piles still fresh in his head.  He called to his plate, he forgot it inside, quickly it popped off from the spot he left it in the hallway and landed on his back. He decided to walk. He didn’t trust his mind to not fly him straight into a wall this early in the morning, and his physical body could really use the exorcise. He looked up, the sky had been covered partially by clouds. Though occasionally you could see the countless stars that shown behind them. Malco always thought they were like the eyes of countless spirits, watching the Gallen while the farms slept warning them of predators. He hoped the spirits were also watching over the town now, protecting them from the Margr threat. The path to the tower would have been hard if it wasn’t for the device he received from his master, a small object that produced light in a beam before him. He shown it on the stones in front of him to gain his barrings.  “Useful.” He thought, as he silently tiptoed past four adventurers who had been sleeping in the streets.  “Why are they even here?” he muttered.  The queston held some merit. NO ONE visited Ellomyr, not even the Aeon priests. Why had so many wayward souls ended up washing ashore in this small pastoral town.  Malco recalled one of them passing out shortly after receiving the news of the incoming Margr attack, her pristine purple hair had come undone and shot out like the fur of a gallen left out in the summer mists. Yet, once she woke up, she got right back to work and kept going. “How were they so strong?”  What had they faced, far beyond the rolling hills that surrounded the plains. Beyond the borders of Malco’s world. Malco’s joints creaked, and his mind ached, it was almost as if he aged 30 years in the past month alone. He spent 3 hrs a day asleep, the rest was dedicated to his practice. He was always either walking the rounds, gatherin metal, working on towers, or practicing his magnetic abilities. Usually doing multiple at the same time. To many of the people in Ellomyr, the abhumans were forgotten. Malco couldn't even remember the last time he feared the Margr threat. In hindsight it hadn’t been that long, a few years at most. The Margr were never that far away either, only a few weeks at most, and that’s if they casually walked to Ellomyr and stopped to take in the view along the way. If anything, the Margr were late. Nobody said anything, but it was true, they barely finished the wall in time for the attack, where were they? Malco stopped, and checked the metal balls his mater gave him. Stopped... That wasn’t good. It meant he was focusing to much on the world around him, he was panicking. He began to whisper to himself. “Breath in...” .... ”Breath out...”  HAAAaaaaaaa..... He repeated the exorcise 5 times before he started walking again. As he walked down through the shopping district, he swore he could see the hunched over shapes of bakers preparing for the morning bread from behind their dew covered window.  “Some fresh bread would really hit the spot right now...” He had left without eating this morning. He didn’t have time for breakfast. Hammond was already out on patrol and would have some left over jerky that Malco could probably snag while they exchanged shifts.  In the darkness, illuminated by the small device he carried, Malco walked the final couple blocks to his destination. The tower, not Brucha’s tower, but the one for the fire woman. A tower that shot sparks of energy at it’s foes. Malco wasn’t good at fusing parts together. Aethir hadn’t taught him that yet, and hadn’t expressed any interest in doing so either. The only thing Malco could do right now was build the foundation, after that, the rest is a Nano’s job. Malco couldn’t move wood, not with his mind anyway, but he could move his gauntlets. He made them fly off his hands and towards the pile of wood at the base of the tower, he tested their strength. The pull was firm, and the wood budged but not by much. He sent his plate under the log and used it as a base with the gauntlets as a guide, that worked....  Enough.  Malco had to hug the wood as he lifted it so it wouldn’t fall and shatter on the stones below. Who knows how many more trees Dora’s team would be able to cut down before the Margr made their move. The task almost forced him to stop moving the metal balls near his head, something Master Aethir would have probably smacked him for admitting.... 

Malco’s mind started to drift towards the good old days. He spent twenty years swimming in the frigid waters of the angry, herding his families long haired gallen from one field to the next, and not caring about what existed beyond the rolling hills around him. Heck, he even spent a few summers relocating scavenger crabs when necessary.

Malco always was prone to reminiscing while working on the towers. As his mind had to focus less and less on the boots supporting, he would begin to daydream as he worked. By the time he became re-aware of his surroundings, the sun had already begun to creep over the horizon, it’s golden fingers bringing warmth to the chilled ground below him. When seen from above, Ellomyr was quite small, the part not obscured by the Trilling shard anyway. Without Malco even noticing, the world had already begun to wake up beneath him. The sounds of villagers and wanderers hammering away at the walls reminded him of the times he ran past Dora’s house while she was working on her newest creation. Ann would be chasing around Dora’s kids with a stick yelling at them to “Get some guts!” Karrus was usually the first one to respond, and usually got defeated swiftly there after. The cold breeze that blew across the town reminded him of the times he spent swimming in the Angry. The high level of  metal made him calm, it was as if the river hugged him with every dive. He always wondered how a water that was so calming to him could be so “Angry” to his ancestors.  “I guess the same could be said for the town” He muttered to himself, not that it mattered so high off the ground.  Though the town had changed, it was once so peaceful. Now it was on the brink of chaos.Where fields of grass occupied with herds of grazing gallen stood, a wall had been built in between. The forest he once played in around the town had been pushed back considerably, now around the town was only fields of stumps. Wind blew in from over the hills. The cold air washed over him, and the morning rays of sunlight coated the top of the tower where he was working on. The smell of bread wafted up from the bakery down the road. The hushed murmurs of Ellomyr’s early risers faded as they began to prowl the street going about their business. Maybe the town was still peaceful after all.

BOOOOOOOOooooooom! A bright light shot up from the ground almost obscured by the Trilling shard. The glow was so powerful it seemed like a second sunrise.

What was that! The sun rose from…. the…. ground? Actually isn’t that the field by the dairyman’s house? He should still be gone for a few more days at least. And according to that fear monger Darrion, the dairyman sold that house when he left! Who would buy a house in a city that’s about to be raided by Margr? Someone with an affinity for explosives apparently. Malco rushed his way over to the field, being careful to rest the log he was about to lift back on top of the pile. The flight took about about 5 minutes. It would have been shorter, but as sure as the sun would rise, the Trilling shard began to sing. It’s siren like song reverberating through the streets below. Malco still didn’t like getting too close to it while it was singing, both Aethir and Gurner worried about it, though both tried to hide it. Maybe it was what was attracting the Margr? Maybe is attracted the travelers as well? Like some sort of massive beacon. Questions on who it could be jumped through his mind. Who bought the hose? Did someone break into it and detonate a cypher? Besides the Dairymen, who else had left the town? He paused. The fact that Malco didn’t know the answer scared him. He ALWAYS knew. There wasn’t many people in Ellomyr, and he was part of the guard! It was basically his job to know!

As he rushed over, he saw about 20-30 people sitting or standing in a circle around a man plated in armor from head to toe. Many of people still wore what they went to bed in last night. They obviously came to investigate the cause of the massive light and noise from earlier. The armored man continued to speak.

“Now despite what I just showed you a few minutes ago, the 5th rule of being a fantastic hero is~” He lifted up a finger, as if he was looking for answers.

“Heroes don’t burn down the city!” A small girl with an equally small tail and koi-like white and orange skin sat amongst the much older participants in the circle. 

“Very good Ro! The rest of you have allot to learn before you can even hope to reach her level of heroic knowledge!” He quickly spun upon his foot with calculated grace as he made sure to address the circle equally, stepping over a small pile of spears near the center.

The little mutant girl looked pleased with her praise and giggled as she shifted around in her seat. Her white and orange skin glistening in the early sun.

“Now! Who could tell me what the next rule to being a fantastic hero is?” The armored man paced along the inside of the circle taking great care to watch every single person involved.

The mutant girl raised her hand again.

“Ahh yes! Ro! Do you have an answer?” The man pointed again at the little girl, she shot up immediately unable to hold in her excitement.

“Heroes arn’t formed by tragic backstories!” The girl sat back down waging her tail like a seskii waiting for a treat.

“Ehhh not quite. Though that is important! One should not pursue the noble quest of a hero with a heart tainted by anger and vengeance!” The little girl, eh... Ro, looked sad for a second but perked back up as the knight continued to speak.

“The 6th rule to being a fantastic hero is to pursue excellence in every task! One must never complain when wanting to pursue the path of a hero and must always be prepared to stand for what’s right!” He accented the last part by grabbing one of the many spears near him and planting it tip first into the ground, striking an overly heroic pose. “Now let’s begin with basic combat practice!” Ro shot up and began to clap, jumping into the air, unable to hold her excitement. A few of the other participants began to clap aswell, while a few exchanged nervous glances. Malco recognized a two of them immediately as people he grew up with, Belara and Arturo. The mass seemed to be made of whoever was nearby, not some organized riot.

Malco descended from the sky. Still quite unsure of what he was witnessing.

“How did you like that display, frail sky man!” The knight turned and pointed towards Malco as he landed.

“Come to join my training session and start walking the path of a true hero!” It was then Malco realized why some of the people were exchanging glances.

The knight was a robot! He thought.

From above the knight’s armor appeared to glow with the heat of the sun. Malco thought it was just very reflective. No, the light came from a core of plasma that pulsed within the breathing knight’s metal chest. As Malco reached his mind into the strange being, he found it was made of so many different layers of metal it almost overloaded his senses so much he had to pull away. 

Malco didn’t want to stay much longer, he saw Arturo from over the knight’s shoulder. He was already holding a training spear. The villagers here were reasonable right? This, thing, was one of the robots they heard about growing up in Gurner’s stories. A crazed being that could turn on them and kill them at any moment.  They wouldn’t follow that mad ramblings of a psychotic droid right? Wait, did the knight cause the explosion? Was he the one Darrion said bought the house? Malco wasn’t sure. None of this made sense! Not to the lowly villager who knew almost nothing of the outside world. His headache got worse, his peaceful morning becoming nothing more then a faint memory. Malco desperately wanted to salvage what was left of the peace he felt earlier and tried to back off.

“Actually I have to get back to my post... I have to swap with Hammond for patrol duty in about 2hrs or so, and I should really-”

The knight jumped and changed poses adopting one with a more combative tone. Malco thought it made his already intimidating 6ft posture seem even more imposing.

“So you are a member of the guard? Perfect! I was looking for a sparing partner to help show these hopeful heroes in training how to really fight! It will be good for them to see how two beings trained with the blade engage each other before they start!”

Training!? Did this robot want to kill him!? Malco never learned how to fight! Well he did, but not extensively! He was being trained by Nieten for awhile, but that ended once everything got busy. He learned some magnetic combat from Aeither but that was only for self defense! Not enough to spar with such an imposing machine!

“Ahhh, listen I would love to, but I don’t think I’d be all that helpful for a demonstra-”

“What bableing is this!? You are a member of the guard! This town’s protection! And YOU are not confident of your skill? I know that when going up against someone like me who was built to be the perfect hero from the minute they were conceived might seem daunting, but you must at least try! For a hero-”

“Must seek excellence in every task!” The little mutant girl shouted once again.

“Good answer Ro! Now tell me frail hero! What do YOU believe would bring you closer to excellence? Letting these poor villagers die at the hands of the Margr? Or teaching them how to protect their loved ones with they’re own two hands!”

The knights eyes narrowed. Malco could feel the droid studying his facial movements. Malco’s mind went dizzy. Up until the moment he heard Ro scream, he completely forgot he had an audience, and it had only grown since they started.

“What would Nieten do?” He thought Surely she would have fought the knight. She tried to help in every way she could. Even though she was working on the wall, and scouting the perimeter, she still lugged boulders like the rest of the villagers. She even still harassed Malco when he didn’t do his exorcises. How she knew was still beyond him.

Dora was also helping the town as much as possible. Although she probably wouldn’t have tried to fight him. Though Malco found the idea of Dora swinging her saw at the looming metallic knight to be particularly hilarious. Even so, she would still be out here urging the other villagers to learn how to fight and might even take the class herself. Malco scanned the audience, no sign of her, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t on her way. She probably already knew about the beam of light and was running through the streets as they spoke.

Master Aeither kept studying the trilling shard, hoping to mine it for the answer to this disaster. he had spent many sleepless nights comparing notes with other nano’s that were doing their best to “unlock” the Trillingshard. Malco himself had to climb it a few times with him. The adventurers rise each morning to protect a village they don’t even have any attachment too! They pour blood, sweat, and even tears into the construction of Ellomyr’s defenses. Regardless on if they are even getting paid or not. 

Heck, even Darrion continued to speak his opinions. He may think the odds are against us but even HE hasn’t left yet! Even Dora says he shut’s up and rolls the stones like the rest of us. Spending every second of his break time shouting his prophesies, even if no one really cares to hear them.

It was at that moment a spark of courage erupted from within Malco. Yes he was scared of the robot in front of him. But that crazed mountain of machine had a point. If Malco claimed to be a guard, that meant he had to be prepared to save the town when it needed him most. If he wasn’t sure of his combat ability, then he was obligated to remove those thoughts through hard work! As Malco called his pole two his hand and his plate out in front of him, he stroke the pose Nieten had taught him nearly a month ago. Well... good enough at least. He called to a spear near the robot’s foot and had it float next to him but on the opposite side of his pole. If he couldn't affect the robot with his magnetism then he might as well abuse the terrain. The Knight seemed pleased by his answer. For it’s core began to burn brightly. The energy radiating off of the robot’s body was hot and fierce, like that of a star. The fiery power burned away the last of Malco’s concerns and filled him with heroic fury. As the rushed towards each other.

The match... didn’t last long. Malco lost. He lost hard. As it turns out, courage can’t out weigh a lack of training and sleep deprivation while on the battle field. The tall knight walked over to where he knocked Malco out of the sky with a single blow with a spear. Each one of his heavy foot steps clicked and hissed as parts moved within his body before crunching on the dried drit below.  “The 7th rule to being a fantastic hero. Is to always make sure you are in you peak fighting condition. You humans, have weak bodies, do not die simply because you didn’t sleep enough” The Knight extended a hand to help lift Malco off the barren drit. 

Malco spent the rest of the hour getting taught spear techniques from the large mechanical knight with the rest of the group. A few more villagers joined the circle in the field as they went. Malco had to leave early, he still had to get ready for his patrol. He could really use a piece of that jerky now, and planned to stop by the bakery after he was finished. He left not knowing how many people truly showed up to the robot’s training session before it stopped, but in just that short hour, they managed to gather more people then they had spears. When he was on his way out, he realized he never got to robot’s name, if it even had one. He spun around and flashed a grin through his still drit stained face.

“I’m Malco by the way. What may I call you Sir Knight”

“You may call me Hiero Sol! Champion of Starlight, Defender of Humanity, and Soon to be Savior of Ellomyr! My data shows it would be the easiest way for your human bodies to pronounce such a glorious name.” Ro nodded in agreement.

Yep, he was a weird one, but Malco decided he would return again. Once he got some sleep.