#this week on 'build a bear'— (joke stolen from partner)

[mossy-rainfrog]

Build a Cowboy Round 2

Alright gamers, we've got our short king ready to go, now we need to pick a build for him :3

[ID: Four traditional sketches of shirtless men, all with various fat body types and nondescript faces. Man A is more oval shaped, with large sloping shoulders and a large, round belly. Man B is more rectangular shaped, with a larger chest and a soft rectangular shaped belly. Man C is more pear shaped, with smaller shoulders and a round belly. Man D is more trapezoid shaped with broad, beefy shoulders, and a muscular, square shaped belly. End ID.]

#mossy art #polls #described #build a cowboy #collaborative character design #this week on 'build a bear'— (joke stolen from partner) #gonna try REALLY hard not to do voter fraud on this one but im soooo fond of one of these guys #shirtless #artistic nudity

[anneshirleycuffbert]

YOU ASK AND I DELIVER !!

AWAE Alternate Universe: not-officially-dating shirbert at Queen’s College (stand-alone fic)

Summary: Everyone knows that Anne Shirley-Cuthbert and Gilbert Blythe are practically an item, despite the lack of official announcement that the two are courting. Well, everyone except Royal Gardner. Will the two finally own up to their feelings for each other?

Gilbert Blythe stared at an aggravated Anne Shirley-Cuthbert, who was presently glaring at the trigonometry problems in her textbook.

He felt his heart flutter as Anne bit her lip, trying to focus on solving the fourth equation. The two had made it a habit to study together within their first two weeks of attending Queen’s College, and Gilbert didn’t know how much longer he could bear having Anne at such close proximity yet far from him in matters of the heart.

The study group started out with all the Avonlea students, but the number dwindled by early-October when other pressing matters, like courting and social engagements, presented itself. Anne and Gilbert, unsurprisingly, were the only two who had stuck it out thus far throughout the year. Diana Barry would never tell Anne this, but she felt it right for her to bow out and join a secret study group that Jane and Prissy Andrews were in, not wanting to be a third wheel to an unofficial couple.

It was now mid-November, and the two students were sitting at their usual table on the second floor of the library.

Anne groaned and looked up at her study partner and friend. Gilbert flitted his eyes down to his notebook before she could notice he’d been staring.

“This is impossible. I’m not getting this at all, Gil!”

Gilbert coloured. He loved the new nickname with which Anne called him. He definitely preferred it over Slateface, a name she would tease him with when occasion called for it. “Gil” spoke of friendliness and familiarity. Fondness.

The curly-haired boy cleared his throat. “What’s confusing to you?”

Instead of explaining what she didn’t understand, Anne began her classic rant on the perils of trigonometry and why it should not be mandatory to learn. She then glared at Gilbert, which startled him.

“What?” Gilbert said, feeling defensive.

“Why are you smiling?”

“I’m not?” Gilbert immediately felt the corners of his mouth drop. 

“But you were!” 

Gilbert’s half-masked smile turned into a full blown grin. He threw up his hands. “Okay, okay! I’m sorry, you’re just so...” he trailed off, trying to find the right word to describe Anne Shirley-Cuthbert.

“So what?” Anne’s brows furrowed in confusion, her lips slightly pouting.

Beautiful, Gilbert wanted to say, focusing all his energy on not glancing down at Anne’s lips which he suddenly wanted to kiss, then and there.

“I don’t know,” Gilbert shrugged, defeated.

Anne frowned at him and opened her mouth to speak, when a familiar voice called her name.

Anne and Gilbert turned to find Royal Gardner approaching their table. Gilbert’s hand reflexively clenched tighter around his pencil.

“Hello Anne,” Roy greeted cheerfully. He glanced at Gilbert briefly. “Gilbert.”

Gilbert only offered him a tight smile and curt nod.

Anne smiled politely. “Hello Roy. How are you this afternoon?”

“Swell. I actually came over to congratulate you.”

Anne blinked, confused. “On what?”

“You don’t know?”

“Clearly not, since she’s asking what you’re talking about,” Gilbert muttered quietly. Anne kicked him under the table.

“Why, you won the Avery scholarship!”

“What?”

“I was looking at the announcement board outside the registrar’s office this morning to find they had posted the recipients of the various scholarships. You’re one of them, Anne. Congratulations!”

“Are you serious?” Anne pinched herself, and when she flinched, her eyes widened.

“Come, see for yourself,” Roy motioned for Anne to come with him and she bounded out of her chair.

She glanced back at Gilbert. “I’ll be right back!”

The sound of a pencil snapping in half made Gilbert jump in his seat. He frowned when he realized that he had broken his pencil.

It wasn’t that he was angry about Anne getting the Avery scholarship, no. Gilbert was always proud of Anne’s achievements and believed in her when no one else would. Gilbert Blythe was aggravated. But with whom?

Anne’s frantic voice rang through the library floor and Gilbert looked up from his broken pencil.

Behind her trailed a grinning Roy Gardner, and Gilbert knew just with whom he was aggravated.

“Gilbert! Gil!” Anne flew past the desks that students were sat focused in until the redhead began making a commotion.

Gilbert stood up. The moment his eyes landed on a joyful Anne Shirley-Cuthbert, a genuine smile made its way onto his lips. He stumbled a bit when Anne propelled herself to him and wrapped her arms around his neck, laughing.

“Oof!”

“Gil, you got the Gold Medal! Congratulations! You got the gold medal!”

“And you?” His voice was muffled in her hair.

Anne pulled away to look him in his soft hazel brown eyes. Her grin was radiant. “I got the Avery!”

Gilbert laughed and in a surge of celebration and joy for the both of them, embraced Anne and spun her around.

“Congratulations, Carrots,” he grinned at the redhead who was very flushed.

“Congratulations, Slateface,” said Anne, out of breath.

Gilbert noticed Roy standing a few feet away, watching them. Gilbert’s face grew serious and he motioned to Roy with a shrug. “Gardner is waiting for you.”

Anne, looking confused, turned. “Oh, he’s waiting for the paper I edited for him. I’ll go give it to him now.”

Gilbert sat down in his seat and watched as Anne grabbed a folder from her bag and walked over to Roy.

“I made some notes on the side,” Anne began explaining her edits to a very invested Roy. Her back was now facing Gilbert.

“Oh, this is fantastic! Thank you, Anne. This is exactly why I asked you to edit my essay. You’re absolutely brilliant,” he smiled.

Anne nodded and said something Gilbert couldn’t quite make out.

“You give yourself too little credit. Thanks again, Anne,” Roy said. “I’ll see you in Writing Club?”

As Gilbert sensed the conversation coming to a close, he propped up one of the books he was supposed to be reading instead of eavesdropping on Anne. He was going to pretend he didn’t hear anything but when Anne sat down across from him with a wide grin on her face, he couldn’t help it.

“How’s your boyfriend?” Gilbert muttered, grumpy after having just watched Roy Gardner flirt with Anne.

Anne, without missing a beat and without looking up from her book, replied with, “I don’t know, Gilbert. How are you?”

The two friends froze as they realized the implication of more that had escaped from Anne’s mouth without permission.

“I’m fine,” Gilbert choked out, sounding on the verge of tears.

Anne kept her gaze on her book, feeling her face flush a deep red at her response and Gilbert’s reply. Quiet occupied the space between them for a few agonizing seconds before Gilbert allowed hope to settle in his heart.

Gilbert cleared his throat. “Anne?” Worry trickled into his voice at the sound of her stunned silence. “Carrots?”

Slowly, her eyes traveled up from her book to Gilbert’s red face. When her eyes landed on his familiar kind ones, she felt her tense muscles relax a little.

Anne sighed. This was Gilbert, her best friend. She had been content to let things stay the way they were because she loved their friendship. But more than their friendship, Anne loved Gilbert, and she could tell by the stolen glances and laughter from past study sessions and inside jokes and the way his eyes bore into her, like they did now, that he felt the same way.

Anne broke eye contact from the intensity of it all. How could she risk their friendship? What if Gilbert didn’t even feel the same way and she just tricked herself into thinking his kindness and friendship and the way he looked at her was more than it actually was?

Gilbert’s eyes furrowed in confusion and frustration. After the whole situation with Winifred, he knew Anne was the girl he truly loved, the girl he was in love with. But he had made the mistake of letting go of the momentum it took years to build in the progression of their relationship. Gilbert had left a letter declaring his love to Anne, which Anne, for reasons unbeknownst to him, did not receive. Hazel mentioned a letter Anne left for him but had mysteriously vanished.

Neither refused to disclose the contents of their letters and so here they were, back to pining and feelings of unrequited love that they knew deep down were anything but.

Anne had just about made her mind to continue this act of just friends, remembering the feelings of a broken heart she‘d experienced when Gilbert was courting Winifred. The voice of reason in her mind brought up the fact that Gilbert had broken things off with Winnie. Anne bit her lip to keep the tears threatening to spill from her eyes at bay.

Gilbert felt desperation surge through him. “Anne.”

Anne looked at him with shiny eyes. “Gil, I... I don’t know what to say.”

“I do,” said Gilbert, determined now. “I don’t know exactly how to say this so I’m just going to say it.”

After a few seconds of silence, Anne felt the corners of her mouth tipping up. “Gil?”

“Sorry,” Gilbert breathed out. “Just gathering my courage.”

The sound of Anne’s laughter gave him all he needed.

“Anne, I know some time ago we had sent each other letters,” he began. “That neither of us ever received. I thought I could go on without you knowing how I feel about you. I can’t anymore. I can’t sit by while others ask to court you–“

“No one’s asked to court me,” Anne rolled her eyes. “And I doubt anyone will.”

“But they will. Roy Gardner has had his eye on you from the beginning. Anthony Partridge and William Smith have been competing for your attention. But that’s not the point,” Gilbert exhaled. “The point is... I like you, Anne. No. I love you. I’m in love with you, Anne Shirley-Cuthbert. I can’t let us go on at Queen’s without you knowing how I feel, because I’ve allowed myself to hope that you might feel the same for me.”

“I–“

“And it doesn’t matter if you don’t have feelings for me. I mean, of course it does, I’ll respect whatever your response.”

“I–“

“I just want you to know that you shouldn’t feel obligated to say or do anything because of how I feel for you. If you don’t feel the same, I’m content to remain friends because I love you, Anne.”

“Will you let me say something now?” Anne looked at the boy with a pointed stare.

Gilbert blushed, sheepish. “Yes.”

“Gilbert Blythe, I love you too.”

Gilbert blinked. “Yes, I know you love me as a friend Anne–“

“No,” laughed the redhead. “‘I love you’ as in I’m in love with you, you idiot.”

“Oh.”

The two smiled at each other with burning cheeks and joyful hearts. After a long time of waiting and pining, they were finally on the same page.

A familiar voice broke the trance Anne and Gilbert were in. Cole Mackenzie stood a few feet away looking at them knowingly.

“Hi Cole,” Anne greeted, elated to see their friend.

“Hey,” nodded Gilbert, smiling.

“Finally figured it out for yourselves, have you?” Cole smirked, glancing between the two.

“Shut up,” said the two in unison, garnering triumphant laughter from the art student.

Gilbert turned his gaze toward Anne, not bothering now to hide how captivated he was by her. He watched as Anne scolded Cole for skipping his class, even if it was to visit them, even if it was to escort his friend Genevieve to visit her sister at Queen’s, and does Aunt Jo know of your shenanigans because if not, you shall certainly be found out!

Anne felt the warm heat of a familiar pair of hazel eyes, and her cheeks flushed without even looking at Gilbert. She said goodbye to Cole, who didn’t even bother saying his standard dramatic “au revoir!” to the raven-haired boy because he knew Gilbert’s one-track mind was thinking of only Anne now. Anne felt Gilbert’s left hand take hold of hers across the table and she interlocked her fingers with his. 

Silently, with the soft hum of kindred and requited love beating through their locked hands, Anne Shirley-Cuthbert and Gilbert Blythe went back to studying. 

That is, until Anne could finally focus again on her trigonometry problem and be faced with the same infuriating dilemma, to which Gilbert would laugh and face the wrath of a redhead scorned by mathematics.

-

to read more of my awae literary universe: click here or click #awae:dlu !!

#awae:dlu #anne with an e #anneshirleycuffbert #awae #shirbert #renew anne with an e #renew awae #renewannewithane #annewithane #gilbert blythe #anne shirley cuthbert #cole mackenzie #diana barry #awae fic #awae fluff

[rogerslovesstark]

Don’t Love You Anymore

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!reader

Warning: Angst, Fluff

Words: 3k

“What are you trying to say, Steve?”

“I’m sorry, I just don’t love you anymore,”

Your mind was reeling, was this really happening? Was he really leaving you when you needed him most? You had found out you were pregnant only a couple of hours ago. You wanted to surprise Steve with a little joke you had found online. It wouldn’t even matter now, he doesn’t love you anymore.

Your hands were shaking while tears built up in your eyes, the sobs in your throat ready to flow out. You wanted to know what had happened? What changed from last week as he had told you that he would never leave you, and it would always be you two.

“What changed?” You whispered, if you tried to speak any louder, you would be crying loudly.

Steve sucked in a harsh breath, “I don’t know Y/n, I just don’t anymore,”

You nodded your head, and went into your bedroom and packed your bag. While throwing in clothes into your bag, you started to cry quietly. It hurt to leave, you had just passed your third anniversary. You had moved in with Steve a year ago, on your second anniversary. Guess it didn’t matter anymore, he didn’t love you anymore.

You swiftly got your bag ready, you walked out of your bedroom, over to the door, leaving your keys on the catch-all tray. You couldn’t bear to stay in the apartment any longer. Steve’s head shot up when he heard your keys hit the tray.

“Where are you going?” He asked without thinking, it was a habit for him to ask where you were going, constantly worrying for you and where you were going. You didn’t look over at him, he didn’t need to know anymore. You shrugged and left without a single word.

Steve sat back on the couch, head in his hands, feeling hollow and a shell of a person. The apartment had already felt colder without you in it, you were normally humming a tune softly, but it was silent, only the hum of electricity to be heard.

8 months later

Steve had landed from a mission, it was only supposed to a few week recon mission, turned into a full-blown undercover stakeout. He went back to his apartment, opening the door to a cold apartment. A shiver ran up his spine, subconsciously looking at the gleam of your keys on the tray. Steve felt his chest caved in at the reminder of what had happened before he left.

Where were you know? What were you doing? Were you doing alright? Steve went over to his desktop, searching your name up in the search engine.

There were no results about you, not even a social media link. You had loved social media, were always on it. The cute pictures of you were constantly posted between the two of you. He pulled out his phone to open his Instagram, looking up your name, to not find anything.

Did you delete your Instagram? He had looked through his own feed, the last picture of you sitting at a fancy restaurant table, smiling brightly at his phone. You looked so lovely that night, a pretty white dress and you looked like an angel. Steve was sure that he swooned every time you had smiled at him.

Steve put everything down and walked towards the bathroom which was connected to the bedroom. It hit Steve like a truck when he walked in and didn’t see your socks on the floor. You always left your socks on the floor because your feet were always cold and you wouldn’t take your socks off until you were about to go to sleep.

Tears filled his eyes as he looked around the bedroom and he couldn’t even smell your scent on the sheets anymore. A choked sob left his throat, you were really gone. You had left and didn’t come back. What else was he to expect, he told you to leave, he told you that he didn’t love you anymore.

Steve did love you, he truly did, breaking your heart like that was one of his biggest regrets, the basis of the mission was for a man who had threatened you and Steve, and he wanted to investigate. It would do more harm if you were together than if you were separated, so Steve broke up with you, what a mistake that was.

Steve walked to the bathroom, tears streaming down his face, and noticed the garbage was overflowing. He forgot to take out the trash before he left. Trying to get all the trash out, he noticed a pregnancy test, his heart dropped to his ass. No, you couldn’t have been pregnant. You would have told him.

It was positive. You were pregnant when he told you he didn’t love you. Steve needed to find you, where were you? Steve forgot about the shower, he grabbed his keys and got onto his bike, rushing to the tower to get FRIDAY to locate you and make sure you were okay.

++++

Steve stared at the computer screen in the lab. There was no trace of you at all, it was like you never existed. FRIDAY had said that there was no record of a Y/n L/n in their database, which was ridiculous because Steve had granted you security access to the building. Steve felt a cold sweat break out across the back of his neck. Tears pooled into his eyes, you couldn’t have disappeared like this without help.

Steve ran to Tony’s lab, hoping he would have an idea of where you were. Without even knocking, he barged into Tony’s lab, seeing his friend on the phone with someone.

++++

“Tony, the baby and I are fine, thank you for calling again for the third time today, but I promise if I need anything, I’ll call you,” You told Tony through the phone.

“Actually got to go, we’ll talk later,” Tony snappishly said before he disconnected the call, you rolled your eyes at his tone, smiling knowing he was annoyed that you denied his help yet again.

After you left Steve, you called Tony sobbing and he took you in. Tony was your closest friend besides Steve. He had picked you up and brought you to a small home close to Lake Erie. It wasn’t much, just a two-bedroom home 15 minutes from the lake.

You had given birth to Tobias Joseph Rogers last month, and it was like he was a photocopy of Steve. He had come out screaming and wailing at 7 lbs, 13oz and 21 inches, on July 4, 20XX. Just like his father. You cried for the majority of your pregnancy and the only reason you took care of yourself was for the safety of the baby.

Postpartum depression was also a concern for you because you were depressed during your pregnancy and you feared that you would still be depressed while raising your sweet little boy. He never cried, only fussed when he was hungry or soiled his diaper. Toby was sleeping right now, and he wouldn’t wake up for another 40 minutes so you began to clean up around the small house.

++++

“Who you on the phone with?” Steve asked, hoping he would say you. Tony looked at him shocked.

“When did you get back Cap?” Tony asked monotonously, secretly fuming inside, Steve had broken your heart and left you for dead, and here he was without a scratch on him.

“Couple of hours ago, was that Y/n? Do you know where she is?” Steve asked, a hopeful look in his eyes, Tony wanted to crush that hope out, Steve didn’t deserve you, you were too perfect for him.

“No, a business partner,” Tony knew you didn’t want to see the Captain, you specifically asked for all information about you to be erased from the system and the internet. You knew that Steve didn’t want to be in your lives anymore so it would be better to just disappear.

All hope Steve had was completely put out, you had disappeared. His heart was breaking so quickly, he was surprised that he didn’t collapse to the floor due to all the heartbreak. Tears began streaming down his face, his breath shaking at the thought of losing you, and your child.

Tony watched Steve shake and cry in the middle of his lab, awkwardly he went over and put his hand on the super-soldiers shoulder. He sympathizes with Steve, he really did, he knew what it was like to lose the woman you love.

“Please Tony, do you know where she is, I miss her so much, I had to go on a mission, they threatened her. They wanted to kill her because of me, please you gotta believe me!” Steve sobbed, wanting nothing more than to just hold you and beg for your forgiveness.

“Who threatened her?”Tony asked, his hands clenching at the thought of someone hurting you and that cute baby of yours. That little boy had stolen Tony's heart the moment he was born.

“Hydra, where the hell do you think I’ve been these past 8 months?” Steve shouted.

“Why the fucked didn’t you anything before you dumb fuck, that poor woman spent so long crying over you, thinking that you didn’t love her anymore.” Tony shoved Steve, and Steve took a step back, knowing Tony was protective of you.

“They would have killed her if anyone knew, it was for the best if we weren’t together while I looked for the person who threatened her,” Steve said exasperated, tired from fighting and not having you home to comfort him.

“Follow me, you stupid shit”

++++

You heard the jet before you saw anything, the noise had startled and he woke up whining, annoyed to be woken up from his afternoon nap. You quickly scooped the baby into your arms hoping to settle him and get him back to sleep, because if he didn’t finish his nap, he would be cranky until bedtime.

After numerous attempts of trying to put him down, he wouldn’t stop whining, only when you took him into your arms and held him.

“You such a mamas boy Toby,” You said softly to the infant, his eyes open and staring at you in wonder. You heard knocking on your door, you just knew it was Tony, he had called earlier and he always came by when he called.

“Let’s go see Uncle Tony baby,”

As you walked down the stairs, you heard two voices arguing softly behind the door, this worried you because you knew Tony always came alone, it might be the neighbors, they would stop by once in a while to check on you and see if you needed any help.

When you open the door, you felt your heart stop momentarily. There he was, in all his American glory, Captain America, Steve Rogers at your door, Tony standing next to him, a sheepish smile on his face. You glared at Tony, how could he do this to you.

Steve stared at the small bundle in your arms, that was your baby, the baby that you had grown without Steve there to help you. Steve looked up at you, you looked as beautiful as ever, skin glowing and your hair looked better than ever. It was like Steve was in a trance while staring at you.

Tony was the first one to break the awkward silence, “Sweetheart, you got to let him explain,”

“Like hell, I will, what the hell do you two want?” You said hostilely, holding Toby tighter to your body.

“Doll, let me explain, please,” Steve begged, wanting nothing more than to wrap his arms around you and hug and kiss you till dawn. To hold his baby and kiss, hold, cuddle him.

You looked reluctantly at Tony and then at Steve, you handed the baby over to Tony where he quickly gathered him and bolted to the nursery room.

“Come in,” You quietly said, leading Steve to your cozy living room. It was minimally decorated, not much inside besides a sectional and a coffee table, a small flat screen tv mounted on the wall. It wasn’t much but it was enough for you and the baby, to keep you from your thoughts when the baby was down and you didn’t want to go to sleep yet.

Steve walked in the house, it had the same aura as the apartment when you both lived there. It was small and it felt like home. Steve started tearing up, he felt out of place, exiled from your heart. But he was the one who told you that he wasn’t in yours anymore. Watching you walk through the corridor, made him feel so left out.

You both sat on the couch, you never made eye contact with Steve, you feared if you did you would end up forgiving him.

“Would you like something to drink? Coffee, tea, water?” You ask softly, nervous to even be talking, what if he came to take away Toby? Your hands cliché at that idea, nobody was taking your baby away from you.

Steve noticed your hands and just stared at you, “Doll, let's just talk, please,” He said desperately, he picked up on the fact that you flinched when he had called you doll, his heart cracking. All Steve wanted to do was to reach out and hold you, just have you in his lap and breathe in your scent.

“Okay, what happened? I thought you didn’t love me anymore?” You whispered, bring up those words practically tore your heart.

“Y/n, I lied okay? I loved you and I still do. So much. Hydra threatened to kill you, the both of us, that's why I told you that, I thought it would be safer for the both of us if we weren’t together, they most likely had our apartment bugged, so I had to make it believable, please you have to believe me.” Steve pleaded.

You looked at the blond in shock, they had bugged the apartment, how, when? Did they know where she was right now? You stiffened up, worried that they knew where you were and they would come hurt Toby.

“Do they know where we are?” You whispered

“No, I took them all out.”

“By yourself?”

“I did what I had to do to protect the ones I love,” Steve said while taking your hand in his.

“Why didn’t you tell me then?”

“Doll they bugged the apartment if I told you they would have for sure killed us, I needed to make sure that we would both be safe and then take them down,” Steve explained, you seemed to be understanding the idea now. “When did you have him?” Steve asked you, dying to meet the baby.

“Last month, he was born on July 4th, like his father,” You told him, watching as his eyes filled with tears and his heart broke even more.

“are you alright?” Steve asked you, concerned that the pregnancy had caused any damage to your body. You had to go through that all alone, the hormones, the cravings, he missed watching you grow with his child.

“I’m fine, it was quick labor and delivery, only took 2 hours, eager like his father,” You said while smiling, thinking about your cute baby boy. “so what happens now?” You asked.

“Can I meet our baby?” Steve asked quietly, desperate to hold his son. You nod your head and lead him up the stairs, to the nursery where Tony and the baby were. Opening the door to see Tony laying on the floor with the baby on his chest. Toby was gurgling and making a face that you recognized, you quickly grabbed the baby and a towel, throwing it over your shoulder and burping him.

“Did he throw up on me?” Tony asked Steve, Steve couldn’t even pay attention to anything that Tony had said, too entranced by his son trying to burp. Hearing the small noise of him passing gas, Steve smiled and walked over to you two. Tony quickly stood up and left the room silently, not wanting to have to face the upcoming drama.

You feel Steve standing behind you, you turn towards him, his eyes silently asking you to hold the baby. You help Steve maneuver the baby into his arms. Steve starts to break down at the feeling of his son in his arms.

“What's his name?” Steve asked you.

“Tobias Joseph Rogers, Toby for short”

“You named him after my dad?” Steve asked, teary-eyed. You nodded, Steve was touched you named the baby with intention, even if you didn’t know if Steve was coming back.

“Doll, I know that I hurt you, but please, let me back in, I swear on my life that I’ll protect you two,” Steve begged you, wanting nothing more than to hold you and the baby and to call you a family.

“I don’t know Steve, you broke my heart, I can’t do it again,” You whispered, wrapping your arms around yourself as if to protect yourself from him. You wanted to try again, but you were scared, what if he left again?

“You won't have to, I will never leave you, please just let me try,” He begged you, hoping that you missed him as he misses you.

“Okay, one more chance, but your doing diapers for the next 6 months,” You said sternly.

Steve felt his heart swell, he grabbed the back of your head and pulled you towards him with a searing kiss, he had missed your kisses and your touch.

“I promise, I will never leave you again, baby, never again,” Steve whispered against your lips.

You pecked his lips and took the baby from his arms, putting him down in his crib, seeing he was already falling asleep in his father's arms. Once the baby was down, Steve grabbed you and threw you over his shoulder, pacing to the bedroom.

“Steve!” You squealed, he slapped your ass and growled out, “Let’s work on getting another baby inside you,”

++++

Tony heard the bed frame smacking the wall and rolled his eyes and let out a quiet “Nasty fucking idiots”

#Steve Rogers #angst #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers angst #captain america #captain america fanfiction #captain america x reader #captain america angst #captain america fluff #steve rogers fluff #captain rogers angst #captain rogers fluff #tony stark #ironman

[goldensimisage]

There had definitely been a lot of chaos around over the past few weeks, but where some pokemon took advantage of it, others chose to stick to the shadows and lay plans more carefully. One such group took an old, isolated storehouse as their gathering spot to lay low in while more and more of them arrived. But while their numbers were growing, there still weren’t all that many...

In the run-down building’s biggest room sat a handful of pokemon who had been there longer than the general riff raff. Leaning against the wall was a tall, lanky Krookodile, generally avoiding eye contact with anyone while she munched on some canned food, in the corner napped a fluffy, wide-shouldered Delcatty, and on a worn out couch sat a tall, beefy, battle scarred Pangoro with an eye patch, his head tilted back as he guzzled down something from a flask. After several days, the room had filled with less uneasiness and more plain old boredom while they waited to finally be given something to do. They wouldn’t have to wait much longer!

The shudders on the window closest to the door suddenly slam open, and in hops a tiny purple cat with a shiny coin stuck to her forehead and a tightly sealed box in her arms. The sudden crash of wood against sheet metal got the attention of everyone in the room, with the Krookodile jumping and almost dropping her meal in surprise while the Delcatty stirred from her sleep and lifted her head, and both she and the Pangoro glared daggers at the feline who’d interrupted their quiet.

“Hope you’re all ready to roll, because I got a job from the big man!” The cat yells out as if she was completely unaware of the looks she was getting. She hops up onto the table in the center of the room, drops the box she’d been carrying, and unlatches it to let it swing open while everyone else has to get up to gather around her and see what their assignment was. And so, when the box is opened up, the Meowth had plenty of bigger pokemon looking over her shoulder as she slowly pulled items from the box.

“Lesse, two scarves, two stolen silver rank badges, an expensive looking bag... Why? This looks like explorer stuff...” Beneath all of that laid a letter sealed with an image of a bird pokemon’s foot, with four talons planted into the wax and a raven colored feather stamped onto the front. She reaches down into the box for it... And it’s immediately snatched up in the claws of the Krookodile behind her.

“Heyyyy! Do you not trust me to read it right or something?” She asks in an exaggerated whine, swiping at the letter to try and get it back.

“No. I don’t. You’ll no doubt joke around instead of telling us what we need to hear.” With such a massive size difference, it didn’t take a lot of effort for the ground type to hold off the angrily swiping cat while she tore open the seal and began to read the letter aloud for everyone present.

If you’re expecting a formal greeting here, you won’t get it. You’ve all worked for me long enough to know I don’t care about any of that, so let’s cut straight to the point. I’m sure you can tell our numbers are running thin since a certain thief woman started forcing out our businesses, so I need two of you to do some recruiting work! One of our old associates looks to have gotten back into the streets recently, and has been getting himself involved with company I would rather not have him near. I want to know where he is, where he works, where he sleeps, and who he cares about.

Under no circumstances are you to fight or draw attention to this, so I’m only sending those of you I trust to snoop around: Nia and Dutchess, take these badges to keep the heat off your back while you ask around. 

“Really? I gotta tag along with the loud mouth?” The Delcatty was fully awake now, but she did not look happy with those orders. But would she complain? Not with a Krokorok staring her down for cutting her off, she wouldn’t. A sigh from the older cat, another moment of quiet, and the taller pokemon continues.

Remember, GATHER INFORMATION, DO NOT FIGHT. If you come across any actual explorers, keep out of their path. The last thing we need with our lack of resources is suspicion. I expect success.

-Carlo

“Sounds like my usual thing!” As frustrated as her partner for the assignment seemed, Nia wasn’t all that bothered. In fact, she looked excited to be doing something with a purpose for once! She starts to say something again, but a bit of color in the bottom of the box caught her eye... A photo! And one with somebody they all knew tagging along with a bunch of guild pokemon.

“Say, big guy,” Those words came with a nudge on the much larger panda’s arm while she held up the picture for all of them to see. “This monkey look familiar to you?” Her question and poking brought the panda’s eye back to the table, but what he saw in her paws clearly did not sit well with him.

“Oy, really!?” The bear shot up to his full seven foot height, his fists clenching at the sight of that green simian. Nia was right, he was familiar. Painfully so. “What’s the crazy old Honchkrow plannin’ that he’s bringing THAT sunnuvabitch back for?!”

“Guess we know why you’re not getting sent out!” At this point Nia was just trying to get a rise out of him while she slipped one of those blue scarves around her neck and pinned the shiny badge to it, before standing on the table with her chest puffed out and her paws on her hips. “Think I’ll blend in with the fuzz?”

“Long as we put a muzzle on you, you might.” By now the other feline pokemon was pacing around the table, waiting for Nia to stop showing off already and get a move on! “Now help me out with mine so we can go. We don’t want to keep the don waiting too long.”

#drabble #long post

[mu11berry]

another otp meme for rhen and dameon

I always steal memes from @the-moon-dust-writings because I can’t help myself, I’m sorry

Who offers their jacket when the other is cold? Dameon even though he is then freezing since he gets cold more easily but he really loves Rhen. And when Rhen notices him shivering she insists on sharing and they are a warm bundle of cuddly floof, thank you. Also there’s like an “imagine your otp” post or something I’ve seen about person A having a soft fluffy oversized jacket with their name on the back that they’ve kept carefully since high school in hopes that one day they’re significant other would wear it and when they meet person B it becomes their life mission to see B in the jacket and A would be Rhen and B would be Dameon and Rhen would be so frustrated because he would always remember to bring a coat and she just wants to be cute, dang it!  I really need both of these fics 

Who giggles uncontrollably when the other playfully picks them up? Dameon, and he has this adorable fairy-giggle except deeper and Rhen loves it. (When Dameon picks Rhen up she smiles and nuzzles into his neck and he still ends up being the one giggling, thank you)

Who compliments the other in front of everyone? Dameon, this is just pure canon. He’s always building her up and will tell everyone how great she is<3 Rhen keeps her compliments mostly private because she knows Dameon would get embarrassed and she respects him. Also pure canon. I am blessed.

Who is more likely to tell the other a pun and what is the other’s reaction to the pun? Dameon discovers to his horror that he has a sense of humor when he starts telling jokes to make Rhen laugh, and even more to his horror, most of the jokes are puns. Rhen does laugh though, not necessarily because she thinks the jokes are always funny but because Dameon makes her happy<3

When one of them has a bad day, what does the other do to help cheer them up? When Rhen has a bad day, Dameon makes her favorite dinner and takes her out for dessert, and he brushes her hair and listens while she talks it out and always knows the right things to say and the right times to be silent and he lets her cuddle into his chest and strokes her back and is so gentle and kind and being with him makes everything Okay. When Dameon has a bad day, Rhen brings food home and finds the biggest softest blanket to wrap them both in (+ the cat) and there are lots of cuddles and she doesn’t always know what to say but she cares enough to listen and try to say something and that means so much to Dameon and her courage and strength inspire and comfort him and they just love each other so much, I love them

If they got to pick what one another wears for a day, what would one another wear? Rhen would pick something soft and flowy and simple and light for Dameon and spend all day sitting in his lap because it’s so soft. And Dameon would pick something comfortable and pretty for Rhen, that she could easily move in but would also feel angelic in and also he would enchant it with a shield spell just in case. 

Who introduces their partner to their family first? How does it go? Well in canon Rhen meets Dameon’s family before she meets Dameon, and the introductions go messily. Being introduced as the other’s significant other is a whole different story. Rhen’s parents would have met Dameon before, the first time they passed through Clearwater (and ps I totally need that fic), and they would be thrilled because Dameon is so respectful and so obviously gentle and kind and so clearly adores Rhen, plus Ma is absolutely tickled by Dameon’s sense of humor, and he reminds Tailor of himself.  Devin is also thrilled because he knows a child of Talia’s will be good to his daughter. And Talia is obviously on the moon because she shipped them before they even met each other; remember when she introduced them? And had apparently been going on and on about Rhen to Dameon before that? They are her OTP, it’s canon. (Rhen has three parents and Dameon has one, I am crying help me </3)

In a coffee shop AU, who would be the coffee shop employee and who would be the customer? Okay you caught me, I haven’t actually read that many coffee shop AUs. But I think I can see Dameon as the employee more easily. Rhen is not a coffee person, she already has so much energy to burn, but she has a huuggee sweet-tooth and she likes to come in for hot cocoa sometimes, and when she meets the cute barista who says her name with that adorable half-twist and has beautiful dark eyes richer than the chocolate in her drink then she starts coming in for hot cocoa all the time. And Dameon used to dread work and having to put on a smile for hordes of grumpy people who haven’t had their morning coffee yet, until one day when he looked up to take an order there was an infectious smile and a chipper voice asked for hot cocoa with whipped cream and sprinkles and when he took her name he knew he’d never forget it and then they fall in love obviously. And now I need this fic too

When they sit side by side, do they touch one another? For example, does one person have their arm around the other, do they sit holding hands, or linked arms, ETC. Not at first because Dameon is not used to being touched and Rhen respects him, but when Dameon opens up and starts to feel comfortable he is a real life teddy bear and loves all the little touches like his arm around her waist or her head on his chest and half the time Rhen probably just plops down in his lap probably

What is a small thing that one another does to make their partner happy? Dameon does all the small things, cooking meals and helping Rhen with her hair and getting her flowers and everything he can think of to make her life easier and happier. Rhen likes to surprise him with kisses and cuddles and she uses the flowers to make flower crowns for him sometimes<3

What would they do to celebrate their one year anniversary? They both try to spoil each other and it becomes a playful contest but at the end of the day Rhen lets Dameon take care of dinner and he lets her get the doors because they know it’s nice for the other to feel useful and like they’re improving the other’s life and also they have a ball with all their friends and family and they and dance all night, thank you now I also need this fic

When did they know that loved each other, and when did they first tell each other that they loved one another? It happened very gradually for both of them. Rhen was stolen from her world and thrown into chaos, getting to know Dameon and experiencing his friendship and compassion felt like coming home and she didn’t realize how much she had come to adore him until she started to have chances to experience parts of her old world again and found she preferred everything, old and new, with his company. Dameon hasn’t felt at home in a long time, despite living in the same place his whole life; there hasn’t been love there since he was very small. When Rhen walks in the first time with her Big Personality and easy conviviality he immediately feels the difference, but he doesn’t know what’s happening and when he does start to realize how important she has become to him he’s terrified of letting her in and risking losing everything again but slowly, gradually her courage and strength inspire him and he does his best to open up and tell her how he feels even though he’s not sure he understands it, and when he does she kisses him and that’s answer enough for both of them and THIS TIME, I already wrote the fic so yay. I am still accepting submissions though. Also I like to headcanon the confession happens in or near Thais for symbolic reasons

Who likes to give the other hugs from behind followed by a kiss? Rhen does this! Very Gently because Dameon is precious to her<3 Also he has to bend down for the kiss because she is short XD

Who would make a playlist for the other person? What would be featured on the playlist? I think Dameon would be this sap, and he’d pick songs like the ones on my rhenxdameon playlists on spotify and youtube (I’m unstoppable guys). Recent additions are “You Are The Only Exception” by Paramore and “You Bring Me Home” by Imaginary Future. There would also be a lot of Sleeping At Last.

Who would bring their partner on a romantic date under the stars? Dameon-- he’s been dreaming of it for weeks, he prepares a little picnic with homemade desserts, all of Rhen’s favorites, and he brings the softest warmest blankets and casts some kind of shield spell to keep the bugs off, and he brushes up on all the constellations, and then Rhen is there and he forgets everything except how to laugh at all the silly stories she comes up with for the shapes she finds in the sky and how to wrap the blankets around them both when it gets cold. And Rhen loves it, her stories get sillier and sillier to keep Dameon laughing, and she appreciates the blankets but she mostly cuddles up against him, and it’s just them and the stars and they are in love and everything is beautiful<3

also am tagging @queen-of-ice101 and @ghedahrianvampress

#aveyond #rhenxdameon #rhen pendragon #dameon maurva #fluffyaveyond #meme #they make me so happy and melted

[stuckonswan]

The Inn of Senrof, Act I

It’s still the 31st in Californiaaaaa After many many MANY months of working on this, I have finally completed my work for the sanders sides big bang run by the lovely blog @ts-storytime An apology for being so late to post, the entire month has been nothing but struggles and things kept popping up to delay me. A major thanks to @bloodropsblog who did everything I could possibly ask of them. 

Click Here for Act II

Click Here for art done by @zennyo

Click Here for art done by @lady-literature

Another thanks goes to my lovely artists, @zennyo and @lady-literature who have been patient and supportive, I hope you enjoy the final product. 

Trigger Warnings: violence, cursing, fire, arguments, blood, injury

Virgil

Pulvis et umbra sumus

His cloak was a worn black, faded with time and covered in rushed patch jobs, the velvet purple lining the inside peeking out in many places. To most, it would have been retired and packed away, or repaired until very little of its original fabric remained.

However, for Virgil, it was his beginning. The cloak with its deep hood and stitched pockets was where he began his endeavors. Each mark on the garment was a memory, an arrow too close or a sword slash too slow. It reminded him he was alive. That he could fight and that he would win.

So it stayed, secured around his throat, barely keeping him warm with all the holes and tears. The wind billowed around it as he rode on his horse, towards the small town of Senrof.

Senrof was a small city, hidden in the valley between two mountains and where Virgil rode to meet his boisterous and excitable partner, Roman.

The pair had been getting more attention as adventurers and, as a result, have been encountering less than ideal situations where a extra teammate would have made the situation far less dangerous as it had been originally. Coincidentally, a pair of adventurers who’d also been searching for a partner, attempting to make a team more suitable for dangerous missions. Roman had encountered them during a visit in the City of Shrines and they had agreed to meet in Senrof to discuss a possible alliance.

Virgil was a half day's ride away, and running late, as if the gods themselves were against his appearance in the forgotten town. As he rode on, he remembered the last conversation he had had with Roman, nearly a fortnight ago.

“I don’t like this.” Virgil grumbled, taking a large swig of his wine. The pair were staying in an inn, just west of the city of shrines. After a grueling quest, they escaped the city to resupply and rest for two weeks.

It seemed Roman had other ideas, however, as he instead wanted to use their downtime to discuss joining up with another pair of adventurers.

“That’s because change is a foreign concept to you, stormcloud.” Roman jokes, dodging the punch to his arm before taking a sip of his drink and continuing, “We need them if we are to take on higher paying jobs.” Roman clapped Virgil on the shoulder. “One’s a healer, the other’s a talented magician. They’d be of good use.”

“I’m not saying they wouldn’t be. But how do we know we can trust them, Ro?” He was paranoid and Roman knew it. It wasn’t that strange a trait to have when you realized he grew up in an assassins guild. It was expected to be stabbed in the back when you let your guard down. Virgil never really shook that particular habit, and had no want to anyhow.

“The healer is a paladin, Shadow. They’re good, trustworthy men. I promise.”

Virgil had just rounded the bend, lost in thought as he trekked the mountain slope when the thieves attacked, throwing him off his horse and into the snow below. He sucked in a fruitless gasp as the wind rushed out of his body. The three masked thieves rifled through his saddlebags, ignoring Virgil’s prone form on the ground.

A dangerous mistake when robbing someone, Virgil thought angrily, scowling into the snow.  The least they could do if they were going to rob him is rob him well. Their daggers were still sheathed, the familiar mark of the assassins guild carved into the hilts. Virgil nearly snorted at the sight. Just his luck to be attacked by his peers.

I’m better, the voice in the back of his mind spoke up. They’re amateurs at best, he noticed, and certainly not taught by her.

“Today’s not your lucky day, boy,” a man snarled from under his mask, probably the leader and certainly the oldest. They moved slowly and clumsy, their feet kicking up snow as they went.

��Boy?’ The word stuck under his skin, the jab at his apparent naivete leaving a sour taste on his tongue.

Slowly, Virgil stood, his knees shaking with nerves he never could seem to get rid of. His cheek was stung from having been scratched in the fall and his arms were covered in gooseflesh, his cloak having fallen from his shoulders. He knew he looked small and pitiful and it only served to make him angrier.

He stood to his full height, bringing himself up above the thieves. He may be thin but he towered over most. “I believe it’s you who should be worried,” he snapped in irritation.

Before they could react, he smirked, falling into a step sequence he knew by heart. His feet moved along the pattern burned into his muscle memory. The steps flowing through his body as he spun and danced and twisted himself around. In the blink of an eye he was gone.

The darkness having swallowed him whole, welcoming him into the inky black of the rich swath of shadows beneath the mountain.

The thieves, ill trained as they were, spun in circles to try and find his cloaked form. They moved with frustrated caution, unsheathing their daggers and calling out to him as if that will make him reappear.

Virgil rolled his eyes. And they thought him naive.

Fast as lightning, Virgil flew through the shadows, incapacitating the men with practiced ease. They were unconscious before they hit the ground.

Virgil did a sweep of the area, making sure no one else was hidden in the treeline. Just because these men were sloppy didn’t mean he needed to be. When he decided it was safe, he stepped from the shadows, the sunlight once again touching his face.

Completely on autopilot, he removed all the thieves possessions from their persons. Coins, knives, and any valuable items they may have stolen. He left them with little more than the clothes on their back. Then he grabbed a length of rope, tying them securely to a tree he knew was near a soldier’s patrol route.

When he was finished and realized he was safe again, the weight of the moment fell onto his chest making it hard to breathe. He took deep breaths to hold back his oncoming panic attack, but he could never really calm down without Roman chattering in his ear.

It took him seven minutes to start breathing normally again, and another three to calm Sombra down.

The damn thieves in the mountain ranges were getting out of hand. Virgil knew Roman blamed the guild, though he wouldn’t dare say those words aloud for fear of hurting his feelings.

He had trained there and he’d always be a part of the guild. It was his roots and no matter how hard he tries to distance himself, he knows you can’t run away from something that’s apart of you. No matter how hard you try or fast you run.

The shadows licked at his feet as he moved, loyal as they were for the few that they chose the help. They blurred the edges of his form, trying to pull him back into their dark realm. Trying to keep him safe. He smiled and cast them away with a quick flick of his wrist, placating them for the time being before throwing a leg up and climbing onto Sombra’s back.

It wasn’t until sundown that he reached the town, he and Sombra exhausted and ready for a rest. And it wasn’t until moonrise that he reached the inn.

Virgil had paid for a stall in the stables on the outside of the town and decided to walk the rest of the way to the inn, giving his nerves time to settle. He passed several small houses and shops, all closed several hours ago. Only the blacksmith was still open, the owner bringing a hammer down on a screaming lump of metal, still blazing with fire. The moon was at its apex and the shadows swirled around him, beckoning him into the darkness between the many buildings.

Soon, the Inn was standing before him. A lame building, clearly on its last legs. Crumbling bricks looking like a hard wind would send the building crashing to the ground at Virgil's feet. He continued forward, his eyes on the inn at the town’s center and the man clinging to the eaves.

“Has my shadow finally returned to me?” a man standing beside the doorway of the inn called out, his face hidden in shadows. Virgil rolled his eyes at him as he stepped out into the light. Roman had been calling him his shadow since their first quest together, when Virgil had quite literally become Roman’s shadow to maintain the element of surprise over their enemies.

“I thought I told you that if you called me that again I’d throw your stuff in the nearest stream, shall I make good on my promise?” The threat was half-hearted at best and Virgil was smiling as he said it, enjoying their inside joke of three years. As he stepped into the soft glow of torchlight surrounding the inn he realised the friendly expression did nothing for Roman in the darkness he was just standing in. His fear evaporated as Roman stepped out of the shadows, bearing a smile as well.

“It’s good to see you, Ro.” The pair clasped hands in greeting. Virgil looked his friend over for signs of battle, checking to make sure he was alright. When the thief found none he stepped back, waiting for Roman to finish his more obvious examination.

“Well you’re late, so I can call you whatever I please,” Roman snarked, stepping back to lean against the wall of the inn. He was wearing his flashy white tunic with the gold accents. The golden buttons he bought on the last job, securing the blood red cape to his shoulders.

He was dressed up like a presenting peacock, the obvious outcast in a sea of dull peasant browns and greens. But after the many years of partnership with him, Virgil had given up trying to talk him out of it. “We’re supposed to meet the others inside at sundown. It’s almost a new day, Shadowling.”

Virgil’s hands shook and he smoothed down the cloak, feeling the worn black velvet on his fingers. “I got held up. Some bandits on the mountain ambushed me.” At Roman’s worried look, Virgil added, “They’ve been handled. It’s fine. I’m fine.”

Roman frowned, irritation and worry in his eyes. Despite his best efforts to keep his partner calm, Virgil knew that Roman was constantly worried about him during their brief periods of separation. “I’m glad you made it here unscathed, Virgil.” Roman let out a deep breath before brightening. “Come on. As I said before, we’re very late.” He flicked his cape around him with a flourish before pushing open the door.

The bar was empty save for a few patrons scattered here and there. Most were slumped over cups of ale, snoring worse than Roman on a cold night. Despite the few patrons, it was loud and dirty inside. Virgil eyed the room with distaste.

“I see you still have poor taste in taverns,” He remarked, scrunching his nose as he maneuvered around the tables.

While Virgil had yet to meet his future companions face to face, he trusted Roman’s judgment and just looking around the room, he knew immediately who they were. There were only two men in the bar that Virgil deemed fit for travel, and Roman knew how shallow and picky Virgil could be when he wanted. He would only pick what he thought was best. Besides, he was allowed to be picky, he was one of seven Shadowdancers in the world. It’s not like you could hire one at the market. And if you could, you’d be poor from the effort.

The two men worthy of more than a half second glance were huddled in the far corner. Their table looked to be barely holding itself together but the position was the most defendable should someone attack the inn. The pair looked to be in deep in conversation, their heads bent towards each other as they spoke in hushed tones. The man on the left had cropped, brown hair and a tall stature from what he could see. He wore long, billowing robes of deep navy and light gray silks. Dusted over his cloak were words of power, scripted in what seemed to be golden thread. He held himself with confidence and power, his back straight and shoulders squared. He looked hesitant to touch anything besides his chair and the table.

Virgil rolled his eyes, A spoiled nobleman’s child out studying magic. Roman better know what he’s doing.

To the right of the magic user was a man in lightly glowing armor. His hair was a light brown, almost blonde that curled just past his ears. He seemed to cast a light over the dim bar both literally and figuratively, walking closer Virgil felt magic flow through him and was calmer if only for a moment. His sword glowed brighter than the light he already cast and Virgil decided it was some sort of godly light. Now that Virgil was closer he could see that the armor he wore was well kept yet lightly tarnished, as if it had seen recent battle.

He gestured wildly at his partner, his face animated despite his whispered tones. As they grew closer, Virgil heard this man frequently cut off the other in favor of his own voice.  They approached quickly, moving through the maze of tables and the occasional bar maid or patron. By the time they got to the table, Virgil’s heart beat like a metronome to a ghost song. A deep pit was forming in his stomach and he wished he had talked to Roman more before walking in here.

Logan

There is no great genius without some touch of madness

-Aristotle

“How good can they be if they can’t even handle being punctual, Patton?” Logan whispered hotly, eyes scanning the bar on the first floor of the inn. The disgruntled bartender was washing the counters as he spoke to the patrons sitting up there with him. He all but ignored the pair of adventurers tucked away in the back corner, seated at a table riddled with scars and scrapes.

It was a sad inn. There were few customers and the furniture had clearly seen better days. The walls were littered with holes and deep gashes. And Logan firmly believed that the tables had to be imbued with some form of magic because they should have long since crumpled to nothing.

As a whole, Logan thought of Senrof as a pitiful town to stow away in, waiting for two people with no concept of time as it would seem. He was growing impatient, but Patton was hellbent on teaming up with whoever these people were.

“Well you never did like to give newcomers a chance Logan, but we really do need them. It’s getting more and more dangerous out there. The seem like good people, Logan. His partner’s even a dancer, Lo!”

“I hardly see the point of a dance-” Logan was cut off by Patton waving his arms to silence him.

“A Shadowdancer. Taught under she who walked through the shadow plane. The shadow plane, Logan!” Patton took a deep breath, his excitement practically vibrating through him, before he continued, smiling at Logan earnestly. “He’s a good kid and Roman’s a talented Bard. Handy with a longsword as well.” Logan sighed frustratedly. While an excellent partner with a moral compass so good it was almost uncanny, Patton was far too trusting.

These people could be good as Patton believes . Or they could be waiting to kill them and rob them blind for good measure. The latter seemed more likely to Logan than the former and he prefered himself alive, thank you very much.

After all, you can’t cast if you’re dead.

Logan forced himself to admit that they sounded good. However, he and Patton were better he was almost positive. More than good. He and Patton meshed in a way that was near indescribable. Logan had never felt this comfortable around someone else, and he certainly didn’t want two strangers coming in and ruining everything. They made an excellent team as they were.

“I’m just not sure, Patton. If it isn’t broken-”

“Break it.”

In front of them stood two men, the left-most having finished his statement, albeit incorrectly. They appeared to be adventurers, although one was dressed in a crisp white uniform, a golden circlet resting atop his golden hair while the other looked like he had been dragged by a horse down a hill, his cloak taking the brunt of the damage. It was fairly easy to deduce which man was the Shadowdancer and which the Bard. Logan was sure even Patton could tell, he could read people like the best clairvoyants and yet when it came to determining a person’s prefered fighting style, Patton always failed.

Patton stood, grinning from ear to ear as he walked around the table to shake both their hands. “Roman! And you must be, Virgil? Was it?” Patton hesitated on the other man’s name and could see him physically wince. Despite this, Roman nodded and Patton moved away from their table and shook both their hands, grabbing Roman by the forearm in a warriors grasp and then shaking Virgil’s hand as if he were made of glass.

Patton was always pulling things like this on Logan, inviting other adventurers to their table to share stories and regale each other with fantastic tales. Patton normally kept his group of the night up well after moonrise. It was perplexing the amount of energy he would have after a battle or an entire day of traveling. While Logan prefered to sit with a book and a tall glass of ale, Patton preferred company and wouldn’t hesitate to find it once Logan started ignoring him. This time however, Patton had agreed to travel with these new adventurers and while he loathed to be apart of a bigger group, he couldn’t deny that the shadowdancing assassin was intriguing.

“Let’s not hound them Patton, they must have come a long way. At least give them time to sit and grab drinks,” Logan kept his tone neutral, as if he didn’t care whether they joined or not. In all honesty, it wasn’t difficult to act as though he didn’t want them and he wasn’t so sure he was acting after a moment of thought.

“Thank you for offering, my friend.” Roman sat down at the table with a hearty thunk, making himself comfortable as he waved over the bartender. After a moment of hesitation, so did his partner. Unlike Roman who stood out like a sore thumb, Logan would have had trouble noticing Virgil if he wasn’t staring right at him.

Almost immediately Roman waved over the bartender and soon a pitcher and two glasses were sitting next to the ones Patton had ordered earlier.

“So, shall we talk about this new arrangement before we drink?” The assassin spoke without preamble, straight to the point. A personality trait Logan could appreciate.

Virgil leaned over the table, the wood creaking under his weight as he swirled his finger over the edge of his drinking glass. It created a small warbling noise, almost musical in the quiet bar. “I prefer to talk business before my partner here drinks himself under the table.” The words were stamped at the end with a mild glare towards said partner, already half a glass of ale into the evening.

“I agree.” Logan said, a brow creeping its way up onto his forehead before he could stop it. Their partner dynamic seemed… interesting to say the least. For one, they had obviously been partners for years. This was made clear by their friendly banter and overall comfortableness around each other. Roman was quite obviously the unspoken leader similar to how Logan was the unspoken strategist between Patton and himself.

What was unusual was how similar the partnership seemed to his own. Yes, they were an odd pair and yet so were he and Patton.  

Granted he had only been around the pair for mere minutes and yet he saw himself in both of them just as easily as he saw Patton in the pair. He caught Patton’s eye and saw him staring back, a gleam in his eye as if they were thinking the same thing. Patton saw it too. Logan stared for a few minutes more, lost in thought until someone pointedly cleared their throat as if waiting for an answer to a question he never heard.

“Logan, are you even paying attention?” Patton was talking to him, poking him in the side till he glanced over.

“Yes, sorry.” Logan glanced up, nodding to both travelers. “Now, what was it we were discussing?”  

Patton waved off his lapse and brought him up to speed. “We were discussing our strengths. Roman is proficient with a longsword and is capable of magic!” He bounced in his seat excitedly, the energy of ten men inside his body.

“Ah of course, you’re the bard yes? And your associate is the dancer, correct?” They both nodded although Logan did not miss the look of irritation that flashed across Virgil’s face at the word, ‘dancer’. “I’m a practicing mage although most of my powers go to evocation. However, I am also proficient with spells to aid my companions.”  

Roman nodded, “Sounds similar to what I do for Virgil. He’s the fighter in our group. While I am proficient with the sword, I normally aid him with my magic.”

Virgil thwacked him in the head with his sleeve, a playful smile on his face. “You only aid me when you remember you have magic.” Turning to Logan, the smile fell off his face and he became more composed. “I fight in the shadows, Roman usually fights alongside me until he remembers he can use magic.”

Logan’s eyes widened in surprise. He looked over at the lithe and small frame of Virgil. Of course he was muscled, but he seemed far too fragile for a fighter.

But, even he was wrong sometimes. Looks can be deceiving, I suppose.

The rogue caught his eye and, seemingly reading his mind, narrowed his eyes in a challenge. Slow and purposeful, he reached for the hilt of his dagger and sank the blade into the table with a dull thud. It wasn’t deep, merely enough to keep the blade standing, but Logan heard the bartender make an affronted noise.

Both Roman and Patton made confused noises, unable to understand the power play. While excelling in certain areas, brains and strategy was neither’s forte. But virgil seemed to know what he was doing, knew what he needed to do to get what he wanted.

Another agile mind.

Interesting.

“I’ve been told you’ve had training with the assassin’s guild. You are remarkably small-built for a frequent combatant.” Logan spoke in a calm manner, his tone controlled, wanting to see how this played out.

“It doesn’t take much strength to use daggers. And an opponent with all the strength in the world means nothing if they can’t catch you.” His eyes twinkle in a way that makes Logan shift in his seat, silently reminding himself to never underestimate Virgil again. “Besides,” he continued, shifting to be more comfortable in the rickety wooden chair, “shadows don’t care if I’m not the strongest. Their skills are wit and stealth. I consider myself proficient in both of those. Understood?”

The pair held gazes for a moment. Virgil, to make sure he got his point across and Logan to make sure that while the battle was lost, the war was not.

“Of course.” Logan answered, tilting his head in a nod and breaking eye contact. He reached across the table, plucking the knife from the table and holding it in his hands to examine.

Logan didn’t know much of blades, but this one looked like a fine one. It made sense such a man would have a nice blade.

After a moment, he held the knife out, hilt first to Virgil, a sign of goodwill after such mind games. He knew they’d but heads in the future, but for now they could agree to a truce.

Virgil leaned back in his seat, twirling the blade with deadly precision before sliding it back in his holster. As he moved, Logan saw the outline of at least four more weapons on his person. Logan suspected he was wearing a bandolier, dozens of knives held to his chest.

Patton coughed to ease the tension, giving an easy if confused smile. “Well now that that’s… settled, how about discussing what we all came here for, yes? We didn’t come all the way here to talk, not that you aren’t lovely.” He and Roman share a laugh.

“Yes, I think now is a great time to start discussing important matters.” Roman sends Virgil a sharp look which the assassin steadfastly ignores. “While this has certainly been fun, I’m afraid that we don’t know how we’d work together as a team. Most jobs are dangerous. A single mistake could mean death or injury. How do we plan on being prepared?”

“My concerns exactly,” Logan agrees. Virgil looks at him in surprise but hides it before anyone else notices. “We cannot guarantee safety in such uncontrolled environments. A possible solution could be a simple mission with little fighting, but that could still end in injury.”

“Exactly! See, Roman? I’m not paranoid, I’m merely thinking ahead.”

Roman rolls his eyes. “Then what is  your solution?” he asks, slamming back the remainder of his pint before refilling his glass.

Logan sighed, “If it fails then we go our separate ways, and we forget meeting each other.” He spoke the answer as if it was obvious and to him it was. Why would they continue as a party if a simple quest went awry. Patton,  ever the cheery one, sat up straighter in his seat and leaned onto the table before speaking.

“Logan is just a pessimist, ignore him. A test run sounds like a swell idea and I’m sure it’ll go great. Right Lo?” The agreeing tone and the kick under the table had Logan nodding, if only to keep the peace. “Now that we have decided on where to go from here, how about dinner?” Patton waved over a waitress before anyone could protest and soon, their orders had been placed and Logan was once again sitting with his head in a book, ignoring the chattering of his newfound party.

The smell of warm food brought Logan’s nose away from the stiff pages of the book and he quietly put it away as the waitress slid platters onto their table. A large pitcher of ale and two platters of meat were accompanied by 4 wooden bowls filled with a strong smelling broth. Logan nodded at the barmaid in thanks, tossing her two silver pieces before grabbing a bowl. Other than the call for more ale from Patton, supper was a silent affair and afterwards, the party of four paid for the meal, and went outside towards the back of the inn to examine the quest board.

Like many towns, the quest board was right outside the inn, marked by a line of torches at the top of the wooden sign. However, unlike many towns, this board was thin for quests. Only three papers littered the massive board and none of them required the skill of four adventurers. Logan sighed, defeated if only for a moment. “Looks like no quests worthy of our attention. Of course we may do them for the gold they can bring us but it would be a better use of our time to travel elsewhere in search of a good trial quest.”

Patton gathered the papers regardless and nodded. “I agree with Logan. These papers detail ingredients that need to be gathered and children’s pets that have wandered.” he glanced at a child’s drawing of their own missing cat, carefully peeling it off the quest board, “I can deal with these at dawn, split the money four ways before we leave town. For now, I suggest we rent rooms and get some rest. It has been a tiresome day for us all and we must leave after breakfast tomorrow.” He looked at the pair next to him, a stern look set into his face, and waited for their nod of agreement before turning on his heel and walking back into the inn.

Logan fell in step behind the trio, looking back in disappointment at the board. One small close of the fist and the torches extinguished around the board, leaving a patch of darkness in the circle around the inn. He closed his fist entirely, nails digging into the flesh of his palm, and the area went dark entirely. The only light came from Patton as he led them back inside and up to the barkeep.

“I only got two rooms, double beds in em both.” the barkeep was talking to Patton already by the time Logan had stepped through the door. He sighed, watching as the barkeep handed over two small keys. His hands gestured upstairs with a dirty rag and then the foursome was upstairs, trotting down hallways to their rooms.

“So what did you think of them?” Patton was laying on his bed, having just finished his nightly prayers. His armor rested by the bed in a neat pile waiting to be polished and he had switched into a pair of cotton pants with a light blue tunic. He gazed over at Logan every so often, glancing at him before returning his eyes to the ceiling above him.

“They were certainly interesting. You have a knack for picking perplexing individuals, Patton..” Logan shuffled around, folding back his blankets and crawling into bed. Immediately his eyes shuffled closed and a wave of sleep crashed over him. He murmured a small good night to Patton and was then asleep.

Roman

“Where words fail, music speaks.”

-Hans Christian Anderson

Roman folded his clothes, making a small pile on the nightstand between the two beds. The moon was high in the sky, marking the late hour like a beacon and yet the pair were still awake. Virgil had already shucked off his clothes and was now pacing across the floorboards in a pair of linen pajamas, shirt flowing unbuttoned. Every so often he stopped to engage his partner and yet didn't bother trying to calm himself. Roman just started on, lazily strumming his lyre as Virgil attempted to saw a hole in the floor with an endless back and forth pattern as he walked. This had been going on almost an hour now, Roman’s eyes blurred from watching the motion.

“-and it’s everytime Ro! Why can you walk up to any random adventurer in a tavern and instantly have a seat with a pint of ale while I have to prove myself every damn time. I hate taverns.” He had been rambling nonstop since entering the room and Roman kept murmuring small remarks to keep Virgil under the belief he was listening. If he was honest with himself, Roman was just as angry. Yes, Virgil was a small, lithe body that hid in deep hooded cloaks for most of their friendship. It makes sense that people look at him without seeing the threat. However, Roman had watched Virgil throw daggers with deadly accuracy and seen him be swallowed whole by shadows, leaving no trace of where he is. He was powerful and yet his appearance masked any sign of strength. It worked for them in hostile situations but it was useless making allies.

“You can best five men in a fight without breaking a sweat. People’s first opinions may be wrong but their second is what matters most, Shadow.” Roman settled across the bed and turned to his partner. He plucked at the strings of his lyre, humming as he tuned the small instrument. “Now will you please settle? You’ll fall through the floor with all that pacing.”

Virgil collapsed onto the bed, it wobbling dangerously before settling against the floor. “It’s annoying, and frustrating. Not that you would know, Prince Perfect.” the name is a poor attempt at a jester to lighten the mood and Roman laughs if only to soothe his partner. It was true, while Virgil struggled at near every town, Roman could walk in anywhere and swindle a crowd to his side. They never took him seriously, but he had no problems making friends before traveling with Virgil.

“I have my own dealings, Shadow. Now try and rest. Tomorrow will be a new day and you’ll need your strength.” Roman strummed a soft and gentle rhythm, humming to the tune. It was melodic, calming for both. Instantly, Virgil’s eyes drooped down and he turned onto his side, grabbing the blanket to tug over his head.

For as long as they’d been partners, sleep was a rarity for Virgil. So for the better part of their friendship, Roman would make up nonsense chords to sway the shadowling into sleep. Sometimes he would sing lullabies and sometimes he would only have to hum for Virgil to fall prey to his tune. This was one of those nights, Virgil kicking off his boots and closing his eyes.

Roman continued his tune until Virgil’s chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, almost to the beat of the song. He gazed over at his companion, propping his lyre up by the nightstand between them.

It had been a long day. A long, difficult day for both him and Virgil. He would be branded a liar if he said the first meeting went well, Logan being an obvious problem for Virgil. Roman was unable to keep the peace between the two and as far as first meetings go, this one would unfortunately be considered an utter failure in his book. The team just didn’t click. He wasn’t sure they would ever be considered a decent team and the thought was...worrying to say the least.

Before long, Roman’s eyes grew heavy, exhaustion weighing him down like an anvil tied to his back. Shifting onto his side, Roman allowed his eyes to fall shut. His last thought before sleep overtook him was of the quest they would soon begin. Of course, he should have known sleep wouldn’t last long on nights like these.

He was stepping off a ledge, one foot impulsively moving off the side into the abyss below. The wind blew hard and fast, ripping at his clothes and hair. Fear rippled through his entire being and he could feel his heart beating like a tribal drum. The energy around the hole was dark, negative and ominous. He knew nothing good would come from stepping into the abyss in front of him. Yet he was halfway there already.

He could sense death and the image of a dark, almost black horse with a broken neck became all he could see. Like a terrifying play, the images pressed forward, showing him a broken party. His broken party. Roman surged forward, his weight toppling into the dark cavern below.

The felt like an eternity, but he could tell it only took mere minutes before he hit hard, on rocky ruins. Roman gasped for air, his lungs deflated after the impact stole his breath from his body. He lay prone, head barely lifted and saw chaos before him.

Virgil stood alone, betrayed by his own cloak which lay wrapped around his throat, throttling him. The thin fabric dragged him backwards with a choked scream followed by a sickening crack, 20 feet into the darkness. A silent scream ripped from his throat, helpless on the ground and unable to speak. On the floor Logan lay, moaning in agony with a bloody hole in his forearm. His eyes stared at the hole and back at his quarterstaff, broken in half at his feet. Patton stood with a smile yet his face was horribly marred, burns covering over half his face. Screams could be heard, echoing throughout the cavern and when Roman awoke he realized it was his own voice.

Gentle hands rested on his shoulders, a soft voice murmuring kind words to him. “Everything is okay, you’ll be fine Ro. It was just a dream. No one here is going to hurt you, not with me around.” Roman may be out of it, eyes unfocused and heart running a race it had long since lost, but he could recognize the voice of his shadow anywhere. It was as if someone had washed his body in cool water, a wave of calm rolling over him as he focused on the voice. Unshed tears blur his vision and he blinks them away, allowing the tears to trace their way down his face. Virgil’s profile appears above him, features sharpening as his eyes become tear free. Worry and concern flash through Virgil’s features and as he helps Roman sit up in his bed, his hands shake.

“I’m so sorry I woke you. It was but a dream, nothing harmful to us in the present.” His words rang true at least partially.  No one can speak for the future.

“Bullshit Ro. I’m surprised the entire inn isn’t awake from the screaming. It was worse than the wail of a banshee.” he sits on the bed, fidgeting with the bedspread in an obvious show of restlessness. “It wasn’t a good thing to wake up to. It sounded like you were dying.”

Roman’s features softened, hand going up to Virgil’s shoulder in a sign of comfort. “I can assure you, I am quite alright, my Shadow. It was but a startling dream.” Which again, partially true on Roman’s part. He couldn’t bring himself to recount the dream to Virgil. The shadowling had enough trouble sleeping without any unnatural dreams. Besides, looking at Virgil, scanning his neck for any bruising and seeing none, he slowly realized he had nothing to fear. Everything was going to be okay. His shadowling was alright and so was he. Roman let his hand fall off of the other man’s shoulder, resting it atop his hand instead.

“Ro are you sure? You looked like you’d seen a ghost. Or worse.” He kept a grip on the palm of Roman’s hand, rubbing soothing circles into the flesh.

“I’m sure. It was just a strange dream. Nothing more, nothing less. I’m sorry for rousing you from sleep. I’m sure you’re exhausted.” The room was still dark and the sun had not yet risen. “Need me to play for you?”

Virgil gave a small chuckle, a smile across his face. “No need to worry about me, just get some sleep” his voice was like velvet, soft and gentle. It washed over Roman until the fear had gone and a wave of sleep fell over him. The dream loomed ominously over his head but at the moment, sleep was winning.

“Goodnight, V.” he murmured, clinging to the blankets with one hand, Virgil with the other.

The other man smiled, “Sleep. We can talk in the morning.”

The last thought Roman had before lady sleep dragged him away was of the smooth circular movement Virgil was rubbing his palm.

Patton

Strength does not come from physical capacity.

It comes from an indomitable will.

-Mahatma Gandhi

Patton rose with the morning sun, his eyes sliding open on instinct, as if he somehow knew a new day had arrived. Putting great effort in keeping his motions soft, he stood and stretched. Soft cracking noises could be heard throughout his body, weathered with age. It was the marks of battle making early appearances in his still youthful form.

His arms moved instinctively towards the tarnished breastplate laying neatly on top of his pack, almost urging him forward with the warmth it gave off in the otherwise cool and dark room. Picking up the piece, Patton made quick work of the worn leather straps and pins that kept his armor in place. The moment the last strap was secure against his body, heat poured off of him. It was a type of light his armor held from the day he first strapped the pieces onto his person. He never knew why it glowed and he dare not ask in his prayers, lest it be taken. After all, who is he to question the gods who so generously blessed him everyday?

The life of a paladin wasn’t ideal for most, but for Patton, it was the only suitable way to live. From a young age, the ideas of the gods had been drilled into his brain, and of how the forests and sun that blessed his town were all gifts from them. It was taught to never take those gifts lightly. . He had trained for years in an attempt to pay the gods back and the first day he strapped on his armor, he knew with the glow that every hard quest or difficult night he had worked paid off. The gods had shrouded him in golden light as thanks. Or at least that’s what he believed.

Now fully protected in his armor, Patton moved to the window and knelt, head hanging with eyes closed. Silently, he reflected on the day to come and thanked his gods for allowing the day to exist in the first place. Warmth began to seep into his skin, heating his body in a pleasant, kind way and he smirked. Everytime he prayed he felt what could only be described as sunshine flood into his body, proof the gods were at least happy with him.

A quick glance towards Logan showed him still sleeping, albeit fitfully. His blanket had long since been discarded and the clothes he had worn to bed were rumpled. Clicking his tongue as he observed his sleeping partner.  Patton grabbed the blanket, now strewn half on the bed and half on the floor, and threw it over Logan. Satisfied with the room and himself, he stepped out into the hallway and started for the stairs, his armor clinking as he walked.

The inn was quiet, not a single person awake besides the bartender and himself. It was a strange sight witnessing a bar in dead silence and yet it was one he was familiar with. As long as he could remember, Patton was asleep before the moon and rises high into the night sky and was awake with the morning sun. The smell of eggs and sausages wafted into the air and he moved towards the counter, taking a seat and holding up a single finger, silently requesting a plate.  

It arrives sooner than he expected, a metal pan heaping with eggs, potatoes and sausage along with a large glass of water. He gives a nod in thanks, a small, cheerful smile spreading on his face before he begins to scarf down the breakfast, burning his tongue as it slides down his throat. The food warms the inside of his stomach and he smiles at the feeling.

“Up quite early aren’t ya? I normally don’t see people down here till half past six.” A loud yet gentle voice brings him away from the still silence of the morning and Patton jerks his head up to stare the man in the face. The bartender’s eyebrow raises and Patton follows the curve of his brow up his forehead.

Patton paid no mind to the bartender, just shrugging to the comment and returning to his breakfast, When he was done he slid from the high stool and walked towards the exit, towards the quest board to see if any new ones appeared. None were displayed much to his disappointment and frustration, so he pulled the papers he collected from it the night before out of his pocket, unfolding their worn creases and reading their requests.

In every town, no matter what the quest, Patton always gave it at least an attempt. Not only did it allow him to serve the people of the town, it gave Logan time to rest as he rarely went on the quests with him without a reward or some danger. Fine by him, he was there for the adventure.

They weren’t anything exciting, mostly recovery of artifacts or cave exploration but he took what he could.These would at the least intrigue Logan who would see it as an easy exercise for this newfound team they had become a part of.

Upon closer inspection, the quests seemed to line up after one another, something no one noticed. Not even Logan. Patton moved to the floor, leaning against the wooden legs of the board for support as he spread the papers out in front of them. He couldn’t determine the order but he knew that they connected.

A heavy sigh caught his attention, he looked up to identify who it had come from to see a figure kneeling in front of him. The person was cloaked, the black of it seeming like a piece of the world was missing in front of his very eyes. Not even the light he had been gifted from the gods could penetrate the darkness in front of him. A nest of bonerats began their tumble through his stomach and he couldn’t shake his feeling of unease. Their face wasn’t visible, covered by a deep hood and from what he could tell, a half-mask across the person’s face. Patton stared down the figure, a hand instinctively moving towards the sword at his side.

“I see you are thinking of taking up on those quests.” The voice was deep, a light echo following after the sentence. It felt like the world around them shut off. The wind ceased to gust, the trees no longer made a noise, the sounds that came with the morning had ceased to exist. He looked around and saw nothing out of place, as if time had stopped. Serious magic was at work here and Patton stared back at the man with a small smile, deciding to keep talking and avoid a conflict until there was no other choice

“Uh.. yes. Me and the rest of my party are doing this as an easy exercise.” That sentence earned a hearty laugh from the person in front of him, laughing as if they were old friends sharing a joke.. “Easy. That must have been the funniest thing I have heard in years. Oh traveler, these quests are nothing to take lightly.” His fingers traced the papers as he spoke, stroking them fondly like you would a lover. Patton shifted where he sat, not able to look at the figure without feeling as if he were about to lose consciousness.

“They’re nothing but puzzles and caverns. I see no difficulty in these quests.” Patton’s features hardened and he stared down the hooded figure who merely snorted.

“These caverns are design to drive you to insanity should you take one step out of line. Even now, miles above the surface they plague members of your team and this town.” Patton opened his mouth to speak only to find silence, no words came from his mouth. The hooded man, at least he was sure it was a man, continued on. “You have to work together, to never part. It is all or none of you. There will be tragedies and falls, but you mustn’t let those stop you from adventuring into the caverns.”

Patton looked down at the papers to see them in a new order. Magically, they had shifted to the correct placement, each quest trailing into the next. The more he stared, the less they looked like individual pieces. He picked up the papers to see they had combined as one. Between his fingers were a crude map.  The first one didn’t have a way to get into the cave, no way of getting in to start their journey. “How do we get in? How do I make sure we stay together? To make everyone get along?” Like firing arrows, the questions shot out of his mouth and he was grateful he could once again speak.

“You simply wait for the fall of course. It shall come before the days end. Unfortunately it is impossible to keep your team together in the dark. They’ll have to want allies in order for your team to not wither away at the edges.” He must’ve seen the confusion in Patton’s eyes for he continued, “Patience, dear Patton. You will find out in time it is more difficult underneath the surface.”

As Patton was about to ask what the last sentence meant, the figure stood and dusted off his clothes, the darkness rippling as his hands ghosted over the fabric.”Unfortunately, we are out of time. I can only be on this plane for so long before things get finicky although I’m sure you’ve noticed that.” A pocket watch appeared in his hand and he spun it, the hand moving faster than a hummingbird or an arrow. Just when he thought he would be sick staring at the whirling hand, it disappeared with a loud crack and with it, the man.

A weight came off Patton’s chest and he took large swallows of air, head moving around to see where he had gone.

The earth seemed to move again, slowly but surely it came back to life. It was no longer quiet. The wind began to blow again, almost knocking the paper out of his hand. The trees began to shake and the leaves fluttered in the breeze. Animals began shifting in the shadows of the forest on the outskirts of town. From the bar behind him he could hear the clattering of pots and pans. What just happened?

It was jostling, the sudden noise. It was never quiet for him, ever. When the man appeared it was as if time had stopped and nothing could move but them. Suddenly even the softest, ambient noises were too much for him.

“Patton!” A voice yelled, causing the one in question to flinch back in surprise, throwing his weight back into his hands. There they stood, the other members of his party. Each one wore concerned and worried looks on their faces. Logan was the closest to him, arms crossed. “Patton, are you alright?”

“I- I- uh…” He looked at the papers again, hands trembling. “Um…” He didn’t know what to say. How do you explain what he had just seen? “How’d you three know to find me, it’s barely dawn.” he musters out instead, distracting them if only for a moment.

The three moved forward till they stood around him in a neat semi-circle. “We were all walking out of our rooms to the quest board, we were hoping to find a better suited quest. Patton,” Logan’s voice is soothing on his thudding head, “what happened?” Logan had bent down, now face to face with Patton.

“It was a man, a creature. He gave me this, told me this was the quest we must begin.” He started, holding the crude map out for the three to see.

Logan took the map from his hands, passing it to Virgil before hauling Patton up by the arms. Patton yelped as he was moved before he stood and Logan was holding onto his shoulders, rubbing them in comfort for a moment before gripping them tight, pulling him so they were an elbow length apart.

“Tell me everything” He said, demanding and authoritative, the voice Logan typically reserved for battle. The lines of his face had become hardened, concern evident in his eyes. Patton took a deep breath and began retelling the story. It took only mere moments to explain what was going on but by the end each person looked concerned, fear underlying their entire conversation.

“...and then he pulled out a pocket watch, spun it and he disappeared. It was almost as if...” he trails off. Patton knows what he thinks and that is that. But he’s almost always wrong, especially when magic is considered. It’s impossible. No wizard has that power. Virgil moves suddenly, his face once appalled now questioning.

“You were frozen in time.” he looks down at the ground, holding something in his fist.

“Uhm...yes that’s what I was wondering. But isn’t it-”

“Impossible.” Logan finishes for him, looking sharply at both men. “No mage has that sort of power, time is a finicky subject that only the oracles can control. There hasn’t been an oracle capable of stopping time in millenia if  even that.”

“It’s not impossible, just hasn’t been heard of in some time.” Virgil was tense, ridgid. He opened his fist, revealing a small medallion in his palm, raising it in an offering to Patton. “Does this look familiar to you?”

Patton takes the medallion, turning it over several times in his hand. It’s heavy for its size yet still relatively thin, almost as if it’s a coin. On what he would assume is the front of the “coin” is the pocket watch, impeccably detailed onto the metal. Upon closer inspection, the clock seems to move with each passing second, giving him the time. Fascinated, Patton flips the coin to the tail end, a small illustration of a hooded figure, shadows spilling from his hands staring back at him, the shadows swirling around on the coin. “That’s...it looks exactly like the watch I saw and minus the shadows, that’s the figure I saw.” He holds the coin back out to Virgil, slipping it back into his waiting palm. “Who is that?”

“That is the symbol of Skotos Sythos, patron God of assassins.”

#sanders sides fics #sanders sides #logan sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #tw: violence #tw: blood #tw: arguing #ts-storytime #2018 submission #Hannah's shitty writing #TS-Storytime 2018 Submission