#he yearns for clowns. chaos all around him | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chublemon · 8 months

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In a realm where the vibrant hues of joy once danced in the air, the Enchanted Abandon now lay shrouded in the whispers of shadows. A place where the laughter of children had turned to the chilling Echoes of an abandoned wonderland, it was here that Gutsy, a living clown doll known as a Jevil, Roamed. His heart, once filled with the glee of a thousand smiles, now harbored a longing for the rare human companionship, a yearning that drove him to the edge of this forsaken realm.

Gutsy's eyes, those spiral orbs of wonder, had seen the world turn from light to dark. He wandered the desolate paths of the Enchanted Abandon, his heart's spiral eyes dreaming of the day a human might stumble into his life, a being as rare and precious as the tales of old.

In the quiet of the forest, he found such a creature, laid in the grass like a precious gem, still alive and waiting to be claimed. They have fallen asleep in a napping bed of whisper flowers

With a gentle yet firm grip, Gutsy cradled the human in his arms, his heart racing with the thrill of his impending treasure. He scurried back to his humble abode, a sanctuary amidst the chaos of the abandoned wonderland.

Sammy doesn't know what happened to her. One minute she was just walking through the local children's garden by the library. And the next thing she knows she's falling, a hole opening up under her.

The fall was a doozy. And it reminded her of Alice in wonderland almost, but like a slightly creepy version? With dark undertones and a slight chill to the world. She assumes it's a messed up dream, that she's hit her head.

Sammy has roamed for hours before she met some talking flowers. And they had invited her to take a nap with them as the forest sang a lullaby. And Sammy may be twenty-five, but with everything that happened. She assumed a nap wouldn't hurt, she thinks it's funny to be tired in a dream. But she settles down as the forest hums a soft and haunting tune. And she's asleep in no time.

****

Gutsy carries the woman to his small little cottage in the middle of the woods. It's colorful and cute and surrounded by non talking but rainbow flowers. A few plastic flamingos are scattered about too.

As Gutsy carried the sleeping beauty towards his home, a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. This could be the one, he thought to himself, the one who would change everything. He couldn't help but feel hopeful, even after all these years of solitude.

Entering his cottage, he gently placed the human on his bed, watching as they began to stir awake. Their eyelids fluttered open, revealing eyes that were both curious and afraid. But there was something else there too, something that caught Gutsy off guard; exhaustion.

"Welcome to my home," he said with a warm grin, his tone playful yet comforting. "I hope you find everything you need here."

Sammy blinked several times, taking in her surroundings before focusing on the clown-like figure standing before her. Her brow furrowed in confusion as she tried to piece together what had happened.

"Where am I?" she asked hesitantly, sitting up on the edge of the bed.

"Why, you are in my kingdom, dearest," Gutsy replied with a bow of his head. "I am Gutsy, the ruler of this land. And you, my dear, are very much welcome here."

Sammy looked around warily, taking in the bright colors and odd decor. "This...this is definitely a trip," she muttered under her breath.

"Indeed it is," Gutsy agreed, chuckling softly. "But don't worry, I won't let anything bad happen to you while you're here."

Sammy nods quietly. The last thing she remembered was falling asleep. She didn't even know if they had been anything actually dangerous in the woods. "Thank you." She finally says.

Gutsy knows that the only thing his human would have had to worry about is her... Well, everything, she smells so sweet and soft and he just wants to burry himself in her and keep her warm and full forever. His hands are hiding behind his back as he watches her awkwardly sip the tea as she looks around his room in curiosity.

"You need a bath Prescious." Gutys finally says. Hes hoping bathing will dull her scent. Cause he already knows he's not sleeping tonight, he's gonna be busy keeping his own hands and tentacles in check. Or attempting at least, control wasn't his strong point.

Sammy frowns a little. "I... I don't have spare clothes though?" She mumbles looking over her dirt covered clothes. She would need something else to wear while her clothes get cleaned. And that thought sends her into a tailspin of anxiety.

"Oh, don't worry about that," Gutsy assured her with a wave of his hand. "I have plenty of extra clothes for you to borrow until yours are dry." He paused for a moment before adding with a twinkle in his eye, "And besides, it's better to be clean anyway!"

Smiling reassuringly, Gutsy led Sammy to the bathroom where he had prepared a warm bath filled with fragrant bubbles and rose petals. Handing her a soft, fluffy towel, he encouraged her to relax and enjoy the soak while he went to fetch some fresh clothes for her.

As Sammy slipped into the steaming water, she couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. Something about this place felt...off, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. Shrugging it off as mere paranoia brought on by fatigue and disorientation, she closed her eyes and allowed herself to sink into the soothing waters.

Meanwhile, Gutsy returned with an armful of colorful garments: a frilly pink skirt and top for her to wear during her stay. Grinning widely, he watched as Sammy emerged from the bathroom, admiring how well she fit into his world.

"There you go, my dear," he said cheerfully, handing her the outfit. "Try these on while I finish preparing our dinner."

Sammy took the clothes silently, wondering why she felt so nervous despite being so exhausted. Putting on the outfit, she followed Gutsy back into the main room where he had set up a simple meal. As they ate together in relative silence, Gutsy couldn't help but marvel at how perfect she looked in his clothes – like a true princess in his kingdom.

Finally breaking the silence, Gutsy cleared his throat and spoke up. "So, tell me more about yourself, Sammy." His voice was gentle yet probing, almost as if he were trying to unravel her secrets layer by layer.

Sammy quietly talks. She tells him of her job in a fast food restaurant kitchen, her likes of gardens but her inability to keep a plant alive. Just simple things.

Gutsy sits and waits for Sammy to tell him more about herself. But she she feels awkward talking about herself. So she hesitantly ask Gutsy ask about himself.

She finds out Gutsy is something called a Jevil, he loves tea, the place she's ended up is called the Enchanted Abandon which is like wonderland mixed with a amusement park, and Gutsy let's slip he has a sensitive nose. And Sammy's cheeks turn pink, thinking she smelled bad and that's why he wanted her to bathe.

It's not though, Gutsy wanted her to clean up for the sake of the sweet scent she was oozing due to her time of the month approaching. But he doesn't tell her anything about that.

"So....how long until my clothes are clean?" Sammy finally ask as she watches Gutsy fiddle with a old record player. Gutsy shrugs, "Well Princess, you rolled around in so much dirt that it's stained some spots. So probably a whole while yet." Gutsy lies.

He likes Sammy in the soft frilly outfit. She's adorable for a adult, and makes a cute princess. But he can tell she's uncomfortable with the lack of undergarment and how snug the clothing is on her.

Gutsy listened intently as Sammy shared bits and pieces of her life story, his heart swelling with each revelation. Even though he knew nothing about the outside world, he could tell that she had lived a fairly ordinary life thus far.

At her question about the laundry, he smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry, darling," he said with a wink. "Your clothes will be fine. Now then," he continued, changing the subject deftly, "are you ready for some entertainment?"

Reaching over to the record player, he carefully selected an album before placing it on the turntable. As the first notes of a jaunty tune filled the air, Gutsy held out his hand to Sammy and led her towards the center of the room.

"Shall we dance, my lady?" he asked gallantly, offering her a slight bow.

Sammy hesitated for a moment before accepting his invitation, stepping onto the wooden floorboards beside him. Despite her initial reluctance, she soon found herself lost in the rhythm of the music and the joyful expression on Gutsy's face.

They danced together under the twirling lights of his homemade disco ball, their bodies moving in sync to the beat as they laughed and swayed under the hypnotic spell of the tunes. For a brief moment, it felt as if they were the only two people in the world – isolated from reality and lost in each other's company.

As the song came to an end, Gutsy pulled Sammy close and whispered softly in her ear, "Let's make some beautiful memories together, shall we?" His eyes sparkled with anticipation as he leaned in closer than he intended, his hot breath tickling her neck.

Sammy blushed deeply at his words, unsure whether to be flattered or frightened by his advances. Yet somehow, she found herself drawn to this strange but charismatic clown-like creature who seemed determined to show her a good time.

"Yeah..."

Sammy still has the faint haze buzzing in her head that this is a dream. So what's the harm in indulging? And it gives her a ridiculous excuse to get out of the frilly costume that makes her feel like a little girl.

Gutsy is trailing kisses along Sammy's neck, and he nips at a sensitive spot that makes her breath hitch. "Would this be a important moment to mention I get overwhelmed easily? And that I'm stupidly sensitive?" She blurts out when she's basically squished against his chest.

The noise of excitement Gutsy makes concerns Sammy, she feels like she probably shouldn't have told him that. But with how easily overwhelmed she gets with everything in general. She figured it would be safer to blurt it out now before he got mad at her for stopping anything halfway through. "Cause I'm guessing this is going on a very not PG friendly content with the way your hands are crawling up my shirt!" She squeaks as Gutsy trails cold but soft fingers along her stomach. "And I have a horrible habit of tapping out when I get overwhelmed, babbling when I'm nervous, and I have definitely lost a few boyfriends along the way cause I think I look ugly when naked... " She babbles nervously, her voice hitches and little sounds slip out between words as Gutsy takes his time with her.

Sammy continues to blurt out random things and her insecurities as Gutsy pulls her onto his lap. "Do you want me to stop?" Gutsy ask softly. Sammy's giving of a mix of arousal and anxiety.

She hesitantly shakes her head no. "Just... Just wanted to let you know what you're getting into..." She mumbles.

Listening intently to Sammy's confession, Gutsy couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for her. He understood the fear of vulnerability and self-consciousness all too well. However, he also sensed an underlying desire in her words – a longing for connection and intimacy that resonated deep within him.

"My dear Sammy," he murmured softly, pulling her closer, "you are beautiful just the way you are. Your imperfections only add to your charm."

Gently cupping her face in his hands, he leaned forward and pressed his soft lips against hers, coaxing her mouth open with his tongue. As he explored her mouth, he began to undo the buttons on her blouse, exposing more and more of her flesh to the cool night air.

Despite her initial shock and surprise, Sammy found herself melting into Gutsy's embrace, responding to his touch with equal parts curiosity and apprehension. His hands were surprisingly gentle as they traced patterns across her stomach, teasing but never pushing too hard.

When he reached beneath her skirt, Sammy's heart skipped a beat, but she remained silent, allowing him to explore further. His fingers brushed against her inner thighs before finally reaching their target – she gasped as he made contact with her most intimate places.

"Tell me if it hurts, okay?" he whispered softly against her earlobe. "I promise not to push you past your limits."

Sammy nodded weakly, her mind whirring with confusion and arousal. She trusted this strange clown-like creature who seemed intent on showing her pleasure rather than inflicting pain. And so, she gave in to the sensations coursing through her body, letting go of any remaining inhibitions.

"You see," Gutsy murmured against her skin, "there's nothing to be afraid of."

As he continued his ministrations, Sammy found herself losing track of time and space entirely, succumbing fully to the sensations he evoked within her.

Sammy let out a shuddering gasp as he sink his teeth into her neck, marking her flesh with love bites. She's also too distracted to notice him removing the rest of the outfit.

But when she feels him pull away, her hands hide her face. Assuming he's doing what any human man she's been with does, and judging her body. She's on the chubby side, soft belly rolls and chubby thighs. And she's violently remembers that she hasn't shaved properly when she feels fingers rub over her mound and play with her trimmed pubes.

Sammys anxiety skyrocket. "Sorry!" She blurt out. Trying to quickly and clumsily get off Gutsy lap.

But to her surprise, Gutys arms shoot forward and wrap around her several times. "Oh no you don't Princess, bring your cute little self back here." He coos as he plops her back on his lap. "You're adorable. And beautiful. And I have no idea where I want to start with you now." He purrs. He was blindsided by how natural and not fake she looked, he got distracted.

Sammy let's out a startled squeak when something slimy wiggles against her bare bottom. She's confused and embarrassed. And Gutsy extends his own limbs to wrap around hers, almost effectively tying her to him.

Sammy's eyes are wide as shes basically forced into a exposed position, straddling Gutsy as his own legs and arms wrap around hers like rope to keep her in place. "My precious princess deserves to be spoiled I think? How does that sound?" He coos.

Sammy's currently reeling from the new kink discovery she's just been introduced to. She doesn't realize she's nodding in agreement until Gutsys mouth latches onto her breast. And sucks.

Gutsy's eyes gleamed with delight as he watched Sammy's reaction to his advances. He loved seeing the combination of fear and excitement in her eyes, knowing that he could make her feel both ways was exhilarating. As she struggled against his grasp, he tightened his grip, enjoying the challenge of holding onto her.

When she finally submitted to his touch, he couldn't help but smile triumphantly. His tongue danced around her nipple, teasing and tugging gently before drawing it into his mouth. Meanwhile, his free hand roamed lower, tracing circles around her entrance before dipping inside her folds.

Her moans of pleasure only fueled his fire, driving him to push harder and faster. He groaned in approval as he felt her walls clench around his fingers, signaling her readiness for more.

Without warning, Gutsy thrust his hand deeper into her core, filling her completely with his long, slender digits. Her gasp of surprise echoed in the otherwise silent room, causing him to chuckle darkly.

"That's right, darling," he purred, "let go of your inhibitions and surrender to me."

As he continued to stimulate her with his fingers, he noticed another part of her that begged for attention – her protruding belly button. Lowering his head, he circled it with his tongue, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from Sammy.

"You taste divine," he murmured against her skin, his voice thick with desire. "Now then, shall we continue?"

Gutsy positioned himself behind Sammy, guiding his hardness to her entrance. With one swift motion, he pushed inside her, claiming her tightness as his own. She cried out in surprise but didn't resist as he began to move within her, his unique anatomy providing a sensation unlike anything she'd ever experienced before.

As they moved together, he whispered words of encouragement and praise into her ear, urging her to give in to the pleasure coursing through her veins.

Sammy's mind was a jumbled mess of emotions as she felt Gutsy's foreign appendages stretching her insides. It was kinda painful, but also strangely arousing. She couldn't deny the thrill of being taken so thoroughly by this eccentric clown-like creature.

His every word and touch sent shivers down her spine, heightening her senses to unimaginable levels. She arched her back involuntarily as he picked up the pace, his movements becoming rougher and more demanding.

Gutsy bites down on her shoulder, and she almost wails. Everything is becoming too much. "Slow down!" She whines, Overwhelmed. It becomes a chant of pleading and begging for him to slow down.

But Gutsy does the opposite, he speeds up, he can feel how close she is, and from the way shes reacting, she **doesn't know** and he will be damned to hell if he doesn't make her cum like she deserves. He tries to be gentle, but his entire plan goes out the window when a noise slips out of Sammy when he angles his hips just right.

Her eyes are glazed in arousal, confusion, and a bit of fear. And despite her protest, her hips are moving almost franticly, chasing her release.

Gutsy's eyes flashed with triumph as he watched Sammy's expressions shift from discomfort to pure ecstasy. He could feel her walls clenching around him, signaling her impending climax. With a final thrust, he released inside her, filling her completely as she cried out his name in a mixture of pain and pleasure.

As she collapsed onto his chest, panting heavily, he wrapped his arms tightly around her, holding her close. "There now, my dear," he whispered softly, "that wasn't so bad, was it?"

Sammy shook her head, trying to catch her breath. She couldn't form coherent thoughts anymore, her body still pulsing with residual pleasure. All she knew was that she wanted more of this intense feeling – even if it meant submitting to Gutsy's unconventional desires.

"You're incredible," he breathed against her ear, nuzzling his face into her neck. "I could spend eternity exploring every inch of you."

With that, he began to move again, his tentacles slithering in and out of her in a rhythmic pattern that left her gasping for air. His pace was steady but relentless, driving her higher and higher until she thought she might pass out from the intensity of it all.

As she neared the peak once again, Gutsy increased his speed, determined to push her over the edge. "Come for me, Sammy," he growled into her ear, his voice low and commanding.

And come she did – loudly and powerfully, her body quaking under the force of her orgasm. As she rode out the waves of pleasure, Gutsy held her close, basking in the knowledge that he had claimed this beautiful creature as his own.

For now, they would exist in this twisted paradise together, bound by their shared experiences and desires. In this enchanted land of wonder, anything was possible – including finding love in the most unexpected of places.

The morning comes and Sammy bolts upwards. Dizzy and confused and very much in a bed. Where her last memories had been.... In the living room area.

She's covered in light bruises from Gutys limbs when he basically tied her up with his own body. And not to mention the plethora of bite marks and hickeys scattered about her body too. And she tries to ignore the anxiety of being naked.

She's also trying to remember when she fell asleep. But nothing's clicking.

She turns to the window, blinking blearily as the warmth of the sun hits her. The windows also open, and she can feel the slight chill of the wind.

It's going to rain.

*****

Gutsy is watching Sammy from his half the bed. She had passed out after he got a third orgasm out of her. And he decided that was the quitting bell.

So he carried her to his room and tucked her into bed under several blankets, then took his normal spot on the other half the bed.

When Sammy bolted upward he was concerned that something happened. But she looks absolutely sleepy and adorably confused by everything. And her hairs sticking up in those angles that only happen when you have that good sleep.

He's able to coax her into laying back down and cuddling with him. Enjoying the way Sammy mumbles nonsense as he pulls the blankets over them.

Rainy days are dangerous in the Enchanted Abandon, flowers go wild and the Royal Rooks run around looking for humans to take to the queens for their harem. But they won't take anyone already in a home. And since Sammy is safe with him in his bed, and definitely smells like him, they have nothing to fear.

Gutsy smiled softly as Sammy nestled closer to him, her warmth seeping into his skin. He could feel her heart racing, but it was calming down now that she was safe in his arms.

"Shhh," he hummed soothingly, running his fingers through her hair. "Everything's alright, my dear. You're safe with me."

Sammy eventually drifted back to sleep, her breathing evening out as she relaxed into his embrace. Gutsy couldn't help but marvel at how quickly she had fallen under his spell; it was as if she had been waiting for someone like him to come along all along.

As the storm raged outside, he held on tightly to the feeling of contentment that washed over him. This was what love felt like – protecting and cherishing someone else above all else. He couldn't imagine ever letting her go now.

Throughout the day, he kept checking on her, ensuring that she was comfortable and well-fed. Whenever she stirred or spoke in her sleep, he would comfort her gently, promising that everything would be alright. By nightfall, he was exhausted but couldn't bear to leave her side.

As the second day dawned bright and clear, Gutsy found himself wondering what new adventures awaited them in this magical kingdom. But for now, he was content to simply enjoy the peaceful silence of their shared slumber, basking in the afterglow of their passionate encounter.

In this world of chaos and uncertainty, he had finally found solace in the arms of another – a rare gem among the rubble of forgotten dreams. And he vowed to cherish every moment he spent with Sammy, no matter how strange or wonderful this journey may become.

The future was uncertain, but for now, he would focus on creating beautiful memories with his newfound love. After all, that's what life was all about, wasn't it? Making the most of the time we have together before it slips away.

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lordbloodysoul · 3 years

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Name:

Rift Doorman

Title:

“The Layer Breaker” – “Usurper” – “Ever Hunger”

Nicknames:

Rifty / Riff Raff / Tele-Broski (Fresh)

Freak of Nature / Parasite / Anomaly Animus (Error Sans)

Paperworm / Layer Breaker / Clown Vomit (Ink)

Age:

[REDACTED]

Height / Weight:

Varies

Soul Type

“Collective Soul”

// - A Collective Soul shows trades of all known Soul Types and is shielded by a thin membrane of Void. It looks like a blank Soul with a black outline, that has a small pitch dot in its center from which a vibration rolls across the surface of the Soul. Those waves appear in different colors and strokes. To those who are very sensible to Soul Energy, the vibration will sound like an endless army of different voices breathing simultaneously in sync. The rhythm changes with Rift’s state of emotion. It has an aroma/flavour that could be described as “Retro and vibrant”. The feeling it would induces is more reminiscent of Allure and vivid Chaos. Like a puzzle started, but left unsolved. With every piece just raining passed fields of endless colors, trapped within a pool of blackness. - //

STATS:

[REDACTED] // It will show the “ : P “ Emoji //

[REDACTED] // It will show the “ >:] “ Emoji //

ATTACK

[REDACTED] // Just spells out “YOLO” in painfully bright colors //

DEFENSE

[REDACTED] // Just spells out “LMAO” in painfully bright colors//

Doorman-Tier:

Tier A—Strength Level is not readable, due to its current activity behavior.

History:

Rift Doorman was born outside a Universe of the Undertale Multiverse. Its behavior is unusual compared to other Doorman. Rift traverses the Layers of the Timelines in search of something, but without a Universe to akin to, both its Power and Ambition were altered in a dangerous manner. Throughout its travels, this Doorman has eaten itself through various Timelines and Multiverses. However, these places didn’t just disappear, like usually when things are being destroyed through Outcodes or beings from the Anti-Void. They stay mostly intact. Broken like shattered glass, but still existing. Each piece would then connect with another part. A puzzle, that was willingly done wrong, with Timelines and places in Space just overlapping in chaotic patterns. Strings missing, but not forgotten, rules shifted, players removed and entire areas shifted incoherently.

When Rift gained conscious it felt nothing. Devoid of anything, it just drifted. This state changed when it fell into a Genocide Timeline by accident. Within it, Rift faced the Fallen Human in the Judgment Hall together with Sans. As it wasn’t able to feel pain, watching Sans Dust became its first experience with Death. It amused it. Thus it smashed the human child. Seeing as the child’s death was different from Sans’s, curiosity began building up. More so as Sans returned from the dead when the Timeline reset. The battle broke apart, literally, when Rift tried mimicking voices and speech patterns, causing a ear ripping shriek that splintered the very fabric and Layers of the Universe it was visiting. Sans, slain once more begged the creature to stop the child’s madness. Still incapable of understanding why, it understood that this Fallen Human had caused the Skeleton grievance. He understood the visualization of agony and hopelessness, but couldn’t comprehend the feeling itself. Amused by the concept of FIGHT and MERCY, they decided to experiment with it in this broken place. Trapping the Human Child in a never-ending loop of Resets they had no control over. Dying as plaything to the anomalous creature. Rift bored itself over the course of 17.589 Resets, ending the Human Child by eating first their upper body and disintegrating their Soul for absorption. This act loaded the Fallen Human’s Timeline Data Layers into its own being, giving it a broader view on what’s been happening. Still not able to comprehend things, however, Rift left the splintered Timeline and returned to the Layers between.

More travels were its answer. Further down its path, this Doorman entered a Rampage, experiencing many Emotions from interacting with various worlds in different ways. However, it couldn’t feel them at all. It understood. It could see them. Could comprehend what actions would lead to what reaction, but not why it was necessary. Hollow. It was hollow. Like a Black Hole. Just ripping everything apart and consuming it, but nothing could look back or return it. Within it grew a terrible Hunger, which it satisfied by devouring various portions of the visited Timelines and Multiverses. Places, Sections, Memories, People. All fell to its strife to understand. To engage. To be part of something. It began building a sort of pocket dimension in the Layers between the Multiverse, where it gathered things from various Timelines that kept intriguing it. In one already destroyed Universe, Rift recovered a monitor of round shape, still functional. It had the shape of a face, much like all the other creatures it met had. Thus it connected with the screen and used it as a makeshift face-mask, ensuring its actual form wouldn’t freak out too many people.

While striding through the Timelines, absorbing information, energy, magic and various other stimuli into its form, Rift discovered that it was possible to READ these Data and use it. Shaping its attacks in combat into Patterns and Styles unlike anything this Multiverse had ever witnessed. But not only that, it began to hunt and kill other Doorman instinctively, absorbing them into its form as well, leaving their Timelines defenseless. Rift became a true threat to many, just through its curiosity and yearning for understanding. It also began leaving pieces of itself behind in various distorted Worlds, hidden from view. Small Homunculi, holding enough Data and energy to reincarnate it. Rift slowly devolved into a Parasite that endangered the delicate balance of the Multiverse. A thorn in the side of both the protectors of the Multiverse as well as the Vanguards of the Anti-Void. As its shattering of Timelines caused multiple Universes to intertwine with one another. Rift became a target for eradication, even though no one knew about its existence yet.

It was during another stride into another Timeline that it encountered the parasitic entity known as “Fresh”. Their interaction was quite different than what it was used to. And something began to stir within it. Rift felt something. Something that was unfamiliar and strong. It played with Fresh, before that one disappeared to safety, as the creature seemingly grew too attached to them. That escape started it all. A chase that both were not prepared for nor understood. Rift’s conscious was completely fixated on Fresh. It didn’t understand why, but knew it was important. For days, weeks and months it kept chasing them. However, the Parasite didn’t need or wants anyone following them, so they kept fleeing and hiding. Despite their best efforts, though, Rift finds them every single time.

[!!!SPOILERS WARNING!!! - for those who wish to Read the FanFiction or wait till I get around to making the Comic, since the LITERATURE SUBMIT on DA doesn’t allow much creative Freedom, so I have to do a lot of Re-Spacing and Editing on those Parts. This Section will spoil some of the Plot in exchange for Character Build - If you don't want that spoiled, please proceed to the APPEARANCE Section - !!!SPOILER WARNING!!!]

Fresh found himself in a skirmish with Error and Ink, as they both tried tracking him down. They misjudged and thought they were responsible for several Holes within the Multiverse. With no secure escape Route, they were forced into battle, holding their own well. Up until the Anti-Void’s Enforcer, C0D35 Doorman, stepped onto the field. His entire presence alone began to erase the Universe he’s chosen as a battleground. Manipulating Space was practically useless against this foe, as one of C0D35 special abilities was to block all types of magics. Before the fight could harm Fresh, however, Rift shattered the Universe into several pieces. It took Fresh with it and delved through several Layers of broken Code, Timelines and hid them in a small Space it had created from the leftover scraps of Multiverses long forgotten. A Null Space of sorts. Due to the strenuous battle with Error and Ink, the body Fresh had chosen was slowly failing. They had to let go of the host body and seek out another. Rift, even though unable to talk and acting more like an excited puppy, willingly helped the Parasite. It took them to another Timeline to gain a new host body. Fresh, unable to understand or comprehend the motivation of this anomalous creature, decided to experiment how far its warped sense of loyalty would go. Curiosity getting the better of them. Since they couldn’t escape from it for long anyway. Thus the duo began their journey to try and understand what this drive was, where it was coming from and what it all meant. But Fresh already has the slight suspicion that something was off with Rift. Something huge was brewing.

Appearance:

Rift Doorman has no corporeal form. It’s a mass of black noise, free floating energy and magic. The almost cloud-like, dense column attached itself to an egg-shaped monitor. A remnant of a long forgotten Timeline. Due to the vapor form of its body, Rift can change its density and size at will, ranging from grasp-less like fog and air to solid and unmovable like a wall of steel and stone. This Doorman is holding its form together through sound wave. The magic and energy flooding its form gives these waves color and form, embracing its shape and fueling every movement of the mass. This special way of mass control makes it possible for Rift to even split itself into multiple smaller versions of itself. The Energy and Magic coursing through its vapor shape glows in various colors, like a swarm of bugs and fireflies. The ones that are mostly present range from neon-pinkish to eye-stinging green lights. The color of the Emoji faces on its screen are similarly bright and colorful, while the biggest mass of the body is a pitch-black buzzing fog.

Rift uses the screen it found as a makeshift face. By sending energy and magic through it, it channels different words and expressive Emojis, which it uses for communication, since it cannot speak. It developed this form of talking, which is accented with Retro musical tunes and sound effects, due to its own lack of actual vocal cords. Rift can only mimic various words through pitching and dipping sounds and tunes.

Underneath the screen is a distorted black orb-shaped head, with a bright, monstrous white jaw and eyes. The magic, energy and sound waves, which course through the body are accentuated here, pulsing through the big eyes that stare empty into the world. As the delight of murder and fighting was presented with a smile by both his first encountered Sans and Fallen Child, Rift has adopted that same expression into its own. Empty of empathy, reason or guilt. Hollow.

Personality:

Rift is a peculiar Doorman. Even though highly intelligent and fast learning, it prefers to act like an excited puppy or curious child. Devoid of any real emotion to drive its actions, it only acts upon what other people think is the “good thing” to do in a situation. Leaving trails of Chaos and destruction in its wake. Rift’s first real emotion was “a sense of joy” which emerged from killing the Fallen Human in their first ever visited Timeline. After loosing that, it was filled with a Hunger to learn more, experience more and discover why it was unable to understand or hold emotions like other beings do. It likes being lout and giddy, causing confusion and messes all around.

Rift learned from its travels that violence is considered bad, thus it only acts upon it when given a cause or being asked of. Through Fresh’s company, it grew found of their way of speaking, censoring and general demeanor, which they try to imitate. Not always successful. Rift lacks empathy and basic moralities. Doing the right things as much as they can, but never getting appreciation, feelings of guilt or delight out of any of its actions.

It is a slight hoarder, liking to collect various things from visited Timelines and just storing them in their own little Null Space.

Likes:

Fresh

Eating

making music through its distorted Retro Voice (which would probably sound much like the music you can hear in the “Just Shapes & Beats” Video Game – example here )

helping people

playing with Fresh

exploring and learning / education

collecting stuff for its Null Space

cuddling and hugs

dancing

Fighting, when allowed to do so

people laughing and smiling

inducing Fear into ‘evil’ people (it doesn’t understand it, but their expressions give it a sense of ‘delight’, which it can’t comprehend)

Dislikes:

pointless violence

swearing

anyone who tries to harm Fresh

disrespectful and rude behavior

the other Parasites spawned from Fresh

seeing other people go through loss, sadness and hopelessness (it doesn’t understand, but it dislikes their expressions during these moments)

Capabilities:

Rift is a special Doorman. Unlike any other it can and can’t do various things that are unlike its species. Since Doorman are shaped by what their Timeline / Universe needs, their abilities will be manifested into something they can use as an exploit to reach their goal. Rift, however, has neither a goal nor a world for that to work. Being born outside the Multiverse, Void and such, beneath the Layers of the In between, corrupted its whole existence. Thus it learned an ability so variable, loose and dangerous, that Rift managed to break its own power limitations. That ability is ADAPTATION. Through it, the anomalous entity can learn anything that it finds. This ability is limited only by its corrupted special skill, ARCHIVE, which extents its own Data Volume by absorbing that of other objects, Worlds and people. Through these two abilities, Rift extended its repertoire of skills by taking those of others into its own. By devouring other Timeline versions of Sans, Papyrus, Undyne, Mettaton, Napstablook and various other monsters, it learned their magics, attack patterns, strengths and weaknesses, accumulating them into its own form and using them against various aggressors along the way. Taking the Souls of the Fallen Children, it enhanced its own Soul Power, HP and influence over various aspects within the Timeline Layers. Even though unable to cause REWRITE or OVERWRITE, its Determination rivals the power output of such abilities, nullifying their affects on its own self. By devouring various Doormen, Rift added their special abilities into its own arsenal. But not only these are something to worry about, since they also absorbed the (apparently) infamous “COLOR PUZZLE”, which appeared in various Timelines. Through absorption of its information, Rift learned to utilize the principle in its own combat patterns, making for, probably, the worst experience of a FIGHT for any genocidal maniac. During a FIGHT Rift delights itself by causing its opponent as much headache and frustration as possible. All its patterns are a mix of things it accumulated from various Timelines, objects and people. The difference to its style is that every pattern follows a rhythm it deliberately switches to cause as much distress as it can. Their own original patterns appears as orbs, bars and string lines, which move in a sort of symphonic flow. It likes to abuse the rules of the infamous “COLOR PUZZLE” into each of their attacks. Goal during these fights are to keep itself busy till its bored. It will reset its opponent back into battle till it can’t get enjoyment out of it anymore. Than the most common outcome is for Rift to grab its foe and devour it (or part of it), just to satisfy its hunger for a bit.

// Attack Patterns for this Character would look like a mix between Undertale and “Just Shapes & Beats Style //

Rift’s voice is a powerful instrument of destruction, as its wavelength and pitch can shatter and fragment entire worlds, when threatened. Most of the time, though its a tool for amusement and distraction as they can’t use it to speak, but make totes rad Retro music and sounds with it.

Due to their body being so fluid, Rift tends to shape-shift a lot. Switching sizes being one of the more common transformations, however, it is capable of turning into practically anything it has a rough understanding off. From people to buildings and even entire landscapes. The greater the scope, thought, the higher the risk of its Soul overloading and damaging it. This skill it uses often to entertain Fresh’s curiosity and help them fight their boredom.

The Doorman is capable of using the Data collected to create completely new Multiverses out of them, which it does by filtering the most intriguing information into its “Null Space”. A collective widespread anomalous space in the Layers in between. Much like the Core Universe, it is a hidden pocket dimension that is unreachable unless you’ve been there once or are aware of its existence. As the Null Space grows, so does Rift’s power, which is connected to it. Would this secluded fragment in the Layers in between be destroyed, the damage to Rift itself would be tremendous. Rift is capable of creating “BACK UP FILES” for itself. So called Homunculi, which it scatters across the various splintered Timelines, hiding them in various objects. Through those Back up Data pieces, killing the Doorman has become nearly impossible. For its adversaries it is even unclear if this anomaly can ever truly be completely killed, since normal, widespread magic and fighting abilities are completely wasted on it. However, Rift is not completely invulnerable. All of its outstanding skills require huge amounts of magic, which it needs to store by devouring and absorbing Energy, Magic and Entities from other Timelines. Starvation is a realistic issue to it, since their moral compass started to change with the appearance of Fresh. Survival becoming an “optional goal” to its primary instinct fixating on the Parasite and its well-being. Rift can be harmed by beings from the Anti-Void as well as Ink, which is why it tries to stay hundreds of paces away from them. Especially C0D35, as his ability, ANNIHILATION, exceeds its coded protection by a margin. When Rift’s Soul reaches critical its body becomes fully corporeal and eats at its own mass till burn-out. The energy and magic from its body will slowly dissolve the very fabric of Reality, Time and Space as it goes on, till everything just becomes absolute Chaos. This meltdown can cause any nearby organism to be entrapped in a cascade of pain and maddening delirium, slowly eating at their very existence. It would cause an unseen apocalypse of shier Madness, but also cause the very Death of Rift, if the burn-out isn’t stopped.

Relations:

Rift has no great attachment to anyone besides Fresh. And even that “affection” is a level of understanding it can’t comprehend. For it, its something that it was born for, but doesn’t know why or what it is supposed to do with it. Finding the answer to this riddle is the only ‘purpose’ it got and after wandering aimless for so long, it decided not to let go of it till it knows.

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Trivia:

The first word Rift ever spoke was “YOLO”, when it read the glasses of Fresh at their first meeting.

There is a Momma CQ version of Rift.

Kid!Rift entire backstory is goign to make people wanna stab me to death. I am sure of that.

Rift’s musical Battle Patterns are inspired by the game “Just Shapes and Beats”

Yes, I am aware that I messed up the Color Patterns of both of my Fresh Designs there. They were both drawn separately before placed in the same picture together. It has bugged me to no end!

Yes, there will be a Momma CQ version of this one coming (probably soon, since I don’t want to loose my shin. It’s not worth making Rifty mad)

Fresh Sans belongs to @loverofpiggies

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#Rift #Doorman #LordBloodySoul #Horrorpuppets #Darktale #Undertale #Underfresh #Fresh #Sans

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jimlingss · 5 years

Text

The President’s Son [Finale]

Chapter 19 - Chapter 20 [Finale]

➜ Words: 4.4k

➜ Genres: 100% Fluff, Slice of Life, Bodyguard!AU

➜ Summary: Kim Taehyung is the President’s son, mischievous and playful, and infamous for being a troublemaker. When everyone’s given up, they call for you to be his personal guard. There’s no other choice when your dad’s assigned you to it and surprisingly Taehyung doesn’t mind either. Maybe because you happened to grow up with that brat.

He can’t be any happier. He can’t feel any more content. “This abstract piece is called ‘companion’, created by the student Kim Taehyung. At first glance, it certainly appears overwhelming and almost..sad. But upon analyzing, many of the dull colours come together brightly and the shadows in the piece aren’t unwelcoming. It’s a very warm painting indeed. Well done…” It’s a sight to behold — a dark-haired college student standing right next to his own exhibit, his art in a golden frame displayed beside him on the wall as his professor makes rounds with different groups of people to explain each piece. His own artwork is small, modest, pushed at the back of the gallery, but he’s still beaming with pride, gloating in the praise. People stand around to stare, entering the back space and naturally drawn into his painting. No longer do people look at him. No longer do his peers gawk at him — Kim Taehyung — running from a horde of suited men that are hot on his tail and who scream his name. He doesn’t provoke attention from who he is, or rather who his father is. Their eyes don’t scrutinize him. They’re pinpointed to what he’s created. They are absorbed into his art, into what he’s done for himself. He feels free like this, standing here in the background, watching others instead of them watching him. The man runs his hand through the strands of his hair, causing his fitted, white shirt to pull from his dress pants, having been tucked in. His clothes are normal, hair combed regularly to cover his forehead, presentation of himself absolutely ordinary — never once giving hints that he’s the wealthy son of a world leader. He doesn’t have brand name clothing, an overly polished appearance, shiny cars or luxurious watches to his name. Just his painting, you, and himself. And that’s enough for Taehyung. “Are you sad?” “Why would I be?” Taehyung turns to smile at you. It’s startling to see him with black hair — it reminds you way too much of when he grew up with you all those years ago. But it’s not bad. Not at all. Quite the contrary. He had decided a few weeks ago it was time for a change, so you helped him dye his hair back to its natural dark colour. You wonder what his hairdresser would say, or how loud she’d shriek if she saw the poorly done job. But in your opinion, you think you did a good job. It looks nice. “Your dad couldn’t make it.” “Nah.” Taehyung swats his hand lifelessly. “It’s fine. You’re here, right? And Jin, Jungkook, and Jimin stopped by to see too. I’d rather not have hundreds of bodyguards here anyways. Those three were enough chaos. Almost got me kicked out of here too.” Laughter bubbles up his throat. You smile, shifting to stare, head quirking to the side. It’s a kind of art that you’re beginning to admire despite still understanding very little. It’s pleasant on the eyes and you get a sense of bliss from looking at it. “It’s beautiful, Taehyung.” “I know.” The man grins before glancing at you and his eyes stay. “Thanks for coming. I know you were off-duty today, so….” “Of course I’d come,” you tease. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” “Get over here.” There’s a humongous smile plastered on his stupid face and his arms extend, hands squeezing the air. Your smile immediately falls, expression glazing over to be blank again. “What did I say about PDA?” “I don’t care. Just come here.” There’s an extended moment of silence. Then, you sigh and comply with his will, taking one small step to the side. Immediately, Taehyung engulfs you in his arms, almost lifting you into the air. He giggles, nuzzling and squeezing you tight. It’s as unbearable as it is cute. There are times Taehyung’s overwhelmingly cheesy and teasing, trying to get under your skin or vying for a reaction, yearning for a kind of attention he receives from nowhere else, much like how he was when he was a kid. But there are also times he does those things, yet he’s sincere, genuine, his innocent self. Times when he’s passionate, ambitious, starry-eyed. And you love all parts of it. All parts of him. Taehyung finally puts you down and he reaches down to hold your hand securely, intertwining his fingers with yours. “I’m surprised you managed to convince your dad and my dad that you didn’t need a bodyguard today.” “I have my ways. I can be very persuasive, you know.” He winks with another laugh. “They knew you were going to come anyways, so in case anything happened you’d be here. But….I have a feeling that a bodyguard won’t be necessary anymore.” “Really?” Taehyung shrugs. “Maybe when I’m around the Blue House, but I’m not really causing trouble anymore. I’m not running away or making headlines and it’s not like I’m a target…..there’s no reason for me to be under constant surveillance anymore.” It means a lot — he might finally have the freedom he wishes for, you might be assigned elsewhere, and that someday with Taehyung might be soon. “That’s….good news.” “Isn’t it?” Taehyung squeezes your hand. There’s a pause, another group passing by. He hums a note. “Hey, dumbo.” “Yes?” “Will you stand here and wait for me? I really need to go to the bathroom. I’ve been holding it in for like an hour now and I drank a whole water bottle cause I was so nervous and I’m kind of dying here…” “Go, you dork.” You grin and he laughs, dashing down the hall like an absolute clown. Two minutes pass with you admiring the art around and the gallery itself. It’s rather white, the walls painted a pearly eggshell shade, and the soft lights come down from the ceiling, putting each piece under its own spotlight. It’s beautiful, and you’re beyond proud of Taehyung for making it here. It’s an amazing feat and you realize his potential in pursuing an art career… Eventually, your marveling is interrupted by a woman approaching. She’s dressed in a black, posh dress, holding a brochure that was given out at the entrance near the gift shop. She smiles and calls out, “Y/N!” “Oh, Mrs. Kim.” You meet her halfway. “How are you?” “Good, good. You?” There’s a nod and you reply with the same answer. The older woman takes the opportunity to look around, in awe as much as you are, and she approaches Taehyung’s art piece slowly. Her eyes flicker all over, taking the time to soak it all in. “Taehyung’s in the washroom.” You hitch a thumb over your shoulder. “Should I go get him?” “No, no, it’s fine. He’ll come back eventually. My goodness....” She’s breathless, more focused on the art in front of her. Taehyung’s stepmom glances at you. “He’s amazing, isn’t he? I didn’t know he was so talented. I should’ve made his dad come to see. The fact that he made it here is already…” “Incredible.” “Yes, incredible.” She smiles, finally finding the right word for it and she takes a long moment to gaze at it. “We should really put this up in the Blue House, shouldn’t we? I mean it’s so beautiful. It would look great in the red room.” “I think that’d be a great idea,” you agree with your own smile. “He couldn’t have done it without you,” she says suddenly and out of nowhere. You don’t know what she means. It’s not like you were the one who picked up the brush, chose the paints, and touched the canvas. You didn’t even help by providing advice or giving your opinion — Taehyung didn’t even let you look at it until it was finished. But his stepmother reads your confusion and smiles gently, explaining, “I really don’t think he would’ve been able to depict this feeling without you. It’s called companion, right?” She glances at the name tag, the tiny slip of paper next to the artwork. She murmurs, “Taehyung’s been a lot...happier with you here. I don’t even know how to thank you.” “You don’t,” you tell her. “I’m happy to be here too.” The woman smiles, her lipstick stained mouth pulled by the corner and she turns back. “He’s lucky to have someone like you,” she says despite how you feel like the lucky one. “He’s certainly not the same person he was a year ago…” “What are you doing here?” “Oh, Taehyung, honey.” His stepmother comes up to him in spite of his disgusted expression at the term of endearment. “I was just passing by, thought I’d drop in to see the exhibit.” “....cool.” He’s nonchalant and you’re taken aback at how he’s not as hostile as before. “Thanks, I guess.” “It’s my pleasure.” “Well, what do you think about it?” “It’s very beautiful.” She grins. “I was thinking about putting it in the red room after it was done being displayed here.” “Really?” “Yes. How much are you selling for?” “Uh….three thousand,” he throws out the first random number he thinks of. The posh woman nods her head, her mouth slightly pouted before it tugs into yet another reserved smile. “It’s a done deal then.” “Wait.” Taehyung’s brows are practically lifted into his hairline. “Seriously?” She holds back laughter. “Seriously.” In one instant, he’s become three thousand dollars richer. Taehyung instantaneously spins around towards you with a humongous grin. You know that glimmer in his eye — he’s ready to sweep you off your feet again. And the excitement is infectious. It’s his first sale, and a big one on that. You muse how many plans he has in store, and you’re happy to be with him every step of the way. It’s only just begun.

The event is held in the luxurious hall near the back of the Blue House, wide space filled with polite chatter and masked smiles that don’t crack when they’re far too practiced. Each person displays a surface level perfection, mute laughter filled with small talk as glasses of champagne are passed around, waiters and waitresses weaving in and out of groups of people. But then it’s broken with obnoxious laughter coming from the corner. In the midst of the bustle, you’re holding your palm against your mouth, trying to muffle your own giggling sounds. Jimin’s in a similar state, teeth sinking into his bottom lip to prevent more people from looking over. Jungkook rolls his eyes, but his grin is still spreading into his face. “God, can you not try to make such shitty jokes? It really makes you uncool and this event’s supposed to be for you.” “Aw, lighten up, Kook.” Jin grins. “It’s not every day we get to drink champagne in my honour.” It’s the first time you don’t have to keep yourself alert. Your arms aren’t behind your back. You’re not standing straight and looking forward with an impassive expression. There’s no need to pretend you’re a stone statue, or that you’re part of the wallpaper or decoration. It’s freeing to actually be part of the crowd, to be invited and not blurred in the background to observe others. “Yeah, but it’s every day that I have to hear you try bad jokes. Should’ve never given you that joke book.” “Please. I think I’ve discovered a great skill in comedy.” He motions to him with his flute of bubbling champagne. “When it’s your turn to get a promotion, I’ll let you make the rules.” “That’s a done deal. But it might take a while.” “Okay, but what does that badge and certificate even mean, Jin?” you pipe up and point out, asking the question everyone’s been meaning to ask. “What does the promotion exactly entail?” “Well, it’s a pay raise...and now I got bigger teams to manage, more of them too, chickpea.” “So we’re gonna see you less in the field?” Jimin inquires. “I mean, I’ll still be around. But maybe less.” Taehyung grins. “You’re going for Y/N’s dad’s job, huh?” “Maybe.” Seokjin shrugs playfully despite you knowing that it’s what your dad already intends. Seokjin is the groomed successor and a good one at that. The event was held to congratulate him and solely him after all. After so many years of working hard, he deserves every bit of recognition. Everyone had to admit it, even both Jungkook and Taehyung who were a bit petty in their jealousy. Sooner or later, Jin will take your dad’s job when the old man retires and Jungkook will be promoted to Seokjin’s current position. As for Jimin, you’re sure he’ll climb the ladder too, find a place especially made for me — he has the best temperament of all of you and he’s the most pleasant. You’re not worried about any of them. You’re excited for their prospects. All of them continue to banter and bicker with one another, disregarding the strange looks from people eavesdropping, and nearly causing your temples to start throbbing… But there’s no place you’d rather be than surrounded by your friends. // “You’re feeling okay, right?” you ask, peeking at your partner. “I don’t want to have to carry you on my back if you get drunk again.” “I’m fine,” he nags back at you before chuckling. “And I promise I'll drag my own feet back. I’d rather break your back in other ways.” You lightly scoff, continuing to walk side by side with him down the path. There was finally a moment of privacy that you stole away in the whole gathering. It’s been busy lately in Taehyung preparations for the gallery and you being part of the team to set up Seokjin’s party. Not much time has been spared with one another. “Hey, I heard your dad wanted to run again. My dad told me. Apparently the campaign manager has real high hopes this time he’s gonna be president again.” “Yeah….I know.” Taehyung sighs, eyes flickering up to stare at the clouds passing. “Is it….is it bad I hope he doesn’t win?” “No. It’s not bad.” He smiles gently, finally having someone who understands him to the degree that he wants them to. He doesn’t need to just think by himself anymore. He has someone to listen. “I’m just tired of all this.” “I know.” You squeeze his hand and you both come to a standstill together. “There’s something I have told you yet.” “What is it?” “I’m really going to drop my poli sci major,” Taehyung tells you and shrugs. “Apparently my stepmom finally convinced my dad. She must’ve really liked my painting cause she went home and gave him an earful about letting me do whatever I want.” “Really? That’s...great.” “Yeah, I know. She’s not so bad, huh?” “Yeah, she really isn’t.” It’s what you’ve been trying to tell him for a long time now and Taehyung coming to the realization makes you even happier. “My dad and I are going fishing soon. I...invited her to come this time.” “That’s great, Taehyung.” You mean it genuinely too. And Taehyung nods, comforted that his difficult decision is the right one. “And there’s something else I’ve been thinking about. Remember when I asked you to come with me? If I were to leave abroad? I was thinking...soon. Like in six months. I really want to go. Finish my degree there and then continue in an art school.” It takes a moment for you to choose your words carefully, but you try to stay as honest as possible. “I...think you should.” Kim Taehyung swallows hard. He hesitates. And he musters the courage inside of himself. “Will you come with me?” You’ve known this boy at eight years old. He was a tornado. A storm. The seven year old had rounded cheeks pinched red, cute eyes and a playful smile. And he wasn’t respectful. He never stayed quiet. He wasn’t well-mannered in the least bit. Taehyung is naturally a troublemaker, a troublemaker who flourished in misbehaving and trickery. He’s a handful and you were forced to babysit and watch over him. He was your responsibility, someone you had to protect since the beginning. And he caused you a lot of your childhood gripes and headaches. But you returned to find out how much you missed him. It seemed like he had grown up in an instant, right before your eyes. There was someone deeper in front of you, someone that wasn’t a chore or purposely a nuisance, someone that wasn’t a child who teased you anymore. While he’s still a mischievous adult, he’s become attractive. Captivating. Even if it’s hard to articulate and say it out loud. He knows your shortcomings, knows your emotions, shoulders your burdens. And Taehyung knows he’s become someone who you cherish and hold dear to you. “I never thought you’d ask.” // It’s less awkward than all the times before. It seems like the more visits you make, the less tense the space becomes. Instead, it’s homey and it’s quickly becoming a place you can go to if you need. “What are these?” His hands dig inside the sparkly gift back until he’s holding balls of fabric in his hands with a disapproving grimace. “They’re socks.” You clear your throat. “I- uh…..noticed the pairs that you wear have a lot of holes in them. They were on sale so I got them for you. I should’ve probably gotten something better, but—” “No….no, I needed something like this.” Your father’s eyes flicker up to look at you. “Thank you. I appreciate it.” “Oh. I’m glad.” You fiddle with your fingers that are inside your lap before taking a deep breath like how Taehyung taught you. “If you ever need to buy any more then I can.” The old man nods and tries them on. He wiggles his toes to test the stretch and it makes you smile, relieved that it fits perfectly on him. After a minute, he rolls them off and while preoccupied, casually asks, “Are you really going with that boy?” There’s a beat of silence. You don’t know where he heard it from, especially considering it’s not official and no announcements have been made, but you don’t ask. “Yeah, I think I am…” “Stay safe,” he says and while it’s simple, you know it means a lot. Your father never speaks without thinking carefully, always deliberately choosing his words — you recognize it now, how his little statement means a whole lot more. The weight of his words this time are always heavy, carrying the load of his worries and still giving into the claim of your freedom. You wonder how hard it was for him to let you go at age thirteen, what drove him to that decision, one that you had resented him for which made it harder. You wonder what he thought when you decided not to return, to stay where you were and continue a life there…. Now you’re leaving again, but— “I’ll come back. Eventually. And I'll make sure to call too as much as possible.” The corner of your father’s mouth subtly pulls. “I'll be here if you ever need me.” You want to tell him to keep his fridge full, to eat well, to make sure not to work too much, and to stay warm during cold winters — but he already knows these things, he knows what you want to convey through the small gift, by coming here today, by showing up and making time for him. For a long moment, you look at your dad. You trace his diminishing backside with your eyes as his feet pad away into his quaint bedroom, putting away his new pairs of socks in the creaky wardrobe. You’re glad to see him so well. A year ago, you were worried about the condition he was in. But he made a home for himself that suits him well, quiet and small, cozy and comfortable. He’s alive, and healthy enough to yell at scared newbies. There was no reason to worry. He returns, hand gripping along the door frame. Your father coughs and looks away. “If...you ever need a job, you can always come work for me again.” “Okay.” You smile at him. “Thanks, dad.” It was hard to come back, to make the decision, to actually act upon it. But you’re glad you did it. Even if there was nothing to be concerned about, you’re thankful you stepped foot down into this city again, that you came knocking on his door. There’s no regret whatsoever.

The bike is a baby blue, a shade meant to welcome newborns and decorate nurseries from ceiling to floorings. It’s a soft and pale hue, pastel, and easy on the eyes. It comforts you, reminding of morning skies just before dawn breaks or calm oceans when the sun isn’t blinding. And somehow, the colour has become associated with him now. When you think of Taehyung, you think of baby blue. “I’m not gonna lie,” he says out loud. “I’m gonna miss this.” The paved path is smooth, grounds endless and the scent of grass constantly maintained and cut fills your senses. Once Taehyung builds enough momentum and stops pedalling, letting the built speed push him forward, the metal chains on the wheels clink — it’s the only noise you perceive as the two of you move farther away from the house. “You know we can always get a bike over there, right?” Your hands are placed on his waist, settled in the backseat as he continues to pedal. “We can rent one or buy one. It’s actually a better method of transportation.” Taehyung glances behind him for a brief second. “We can get one of those tandem bicycles so I don’t have to drag you around.” “If you want.” “Kidding.” He laughs, the sound cheerful and hearty. “I like it when you hug me, keeps me warm.” You scoff lightly, finding his flirting too cheesy. But you give in anyhow instead of drawing away, moving to lean your head on his broad backside and pull him a little closer. It still amazes you that warmth always seems to radiate off of him. “Taehyung?” “Hmm?” “I’m happy,” you tell him as if it’s a secret that’s been kept hidden for a while now. It’s hard to pinpoint your emotions, even now after you’ve been working towards expressing yourself more verbally. But right now, you’re so sure of it. In this moment, you are entirely content and fulfilled. You’re not sure how long it’ll last when happiness is so fleeting, but you hang onto the emotion blooming inside your chest with a tight grip. Your relationship with your dad is not only salvageable, but in better condition than you ever imagined it to be. You’ve gained friends here without even knowing, people you cherish and adore, and who will still be here waiting when you return. And Taehyung’s right beside you. There’s nothing missing from your life anymore. “Me too.” The man smiles softly to himself. “How could I not be? I’m with the person I fell in love at first sight with. Well technically second sight.” “What?” “When I met you the second time. You know….when you came back and basically saved my life? You remember, right?” “Yeah.” You laugh quietly, recalling how you didn’t even know it was him — just some reckless kid on a bike and getting on the road without looking both ways. He almost got hit by a car and you sigh at the memory. You remember how hopeless he was and still is. “Of course I do.” “No offense, when I met you as a kid, I don't think I thought anything of you. I barely remember. But I bet I thought that you were easy to tease...and that you were weird. You literally didn’t smile or laugh or even move that much,” he continues on his tangent after laughing, now endeared by the memories of you as a child, “But the second time, damn. I remember being so star-struck. You were so sexy, still are, by the way. But I swore my guardian angel swooped down to save my life.” You’re not impressed. “You’re saying you liked me from the start?” “Sort of,” Taehyung admits. Though somewhere along the way, the infatuation deepened and flowered into what it is now. “I’m...flattered.” “You should be. I don’t always fall in love with beautiful girls.” You scoff lightly, though the infectious smile proves you’re not solely rolling your eyes at his grease. Taehyung seems to be in a nostalgic and reminiscent mood when he suddenly asks— “Hey, remember when I asked you to ride off into the sunset with me?” He continues, “We could be whoever we wanted to be, go wherever we wanted to go. It’s really happening, huh?” “I guess.” You never thought about it that way — starting fresh and all. “But we still have our names and our social security number. So it’s not like we’re really becoming whoever we want—” “It’s similar enough,” he interjects. “Don’t ruin it by being so literal.” “Okay, fine.” You smile, eyes fluttering shut as the breeze caresses against your cheeks and you mold yourself against his backside. “Whatever you want.” “I only want you,” he counters back, not without spite and only with sweetness. “Well, you have me.” Taehyung laughs and it draws from his chest, bubbling all the way out. “I would turn around to kiss you right now, but I’d crash and I’m not sure you’d be happy with that…” His dark-hair whisks in the wind, oversized white shirt billowing in front of him. He savours the way your arms are wrapped around his abdomen. The girl he loves is actually here and the mere fact that you feel the same way has his stomach fluttering, erupting into butterflies. For all the hardships that comes with being the President’s son, and for wishing so desperately for a sense of normalcy, if he was never placed in this position, he doubts he would have this opportunity. Taehyung realizes he would do it over and over again. You made it worth every second. He turns around, smiling as he tells you, “I still mean it — I wouldn’t mind going anywhere with you.” As long as you’re together, nothing else matters. Kim Taehyung might be a handful — mischievous — a troublemaker. But the same reasons of why he gives you a headache are the same as why he’s so endearing to you. While a chapter has closed in your life, a new future together awaits.

#bts fanfic #taehyung fanfic #taehyung fluff #bts fluff #bts scenario #FINALLY IT'S OVER #THE SERIES IS DONE #WOW I HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOYED THIS #props to everyone and anyone who read every single word of this series #thank you #I know it wasn't that exciting but I hope it was still wholesome and relaxing to read #until next time folks #Jimin's slice of life coming up in about three weeks

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ajokeformur-ray · 4 years

Text

A trip ‘round the sun...

Summary: It was your one year anniversary with J the day before. With J out in the city and you busy, neither of you acknowledged the day. Both of you were afraid the other was mad, but as you both come home and come together on the fourteenth, the day after your anniversary, you realise that none of what you think the other feels is true. The truth, in its own right, leaves you both breathless.

A/N: Written for @cacklinghyena. Happy one year anniversary with J, my love!💚 I know it was the day before yesterday but I hope you enjoy this anyway!💜 I love you and so does J; we’re both so proud of you!💙

Word count: 1, 410.

You had been thinking about and looking forward to your one year anniversary with J for months. Maybe for as long as you had been together had you been wondering what the day would look like. Where you would be as individuals with your own lives and your own plans, where you would be in your relationship... would you even still be together? Neither you nor J noticed the day approaching, so busy were you with university and with everything that came with such a relentless institution, and J was out terrorising the city and protecting his reputation just as much as he was protecting you.

In the end, that far off day, October thirteenth, so dreamed about, so thought about, so surrounded by speculation, so surrounded by yearning and by want, by lust and by love... passed by unnoticed. The one day you had been so looking forward to was drowned out by real life, by responsibilities and duties which you hadn’t ever wanted in the first place. Your first thought upon seeing the date early on the fourteenth was, oh fucking shit.

J found himself echoing your thoughts, unbeknown to the both of you. A match made in hell, indeed. You were truly soulmates; you complemented each other in every single way possible. You both thrived in a very specific kind of chaos and you both leaned heavily on the other to get you through the day. You loved to laugh together, your laughs like a hyena (a fitting image, if ever there was one) and J’s own high pitched cackles creating a symphony composed of the world’s greatest and strongest love. You loved to play together. You loved to sit together, to sleep together... you loved your togetherness and you loved what the two of you had built up over the twelve years in which you had known each other, though of course had your dynamic shifted and changed over that time.

With you feeling decidedly shitty about having missed such a special day (how had J lasted a year with you?) and feeling selfish for the same and with J wondering if perhaps you would be mad at him when he finally went home because he had forgotten about your anniversary, there was a general feeling from the both of you that it was too late to celebrate and yet... how could it ever be too late to celebrate love for its own sake? Love celebrated on only one day was a shallow and a fickle sort of love. It couldn’t be relied upon if the expression of such a special emotion was prompted. It was why you hated Valentine’s Day. You and J had been celebrating your anniversary ever since the day you had gotten together, though little had that fact been known at the time.

At least one new scrap of knowledge in a world which barely knew itself was learned every day and so on the fifteenth of October, when J finally dragged himself home to you, sure was he that you would be angry at him for not coming home two days prior, and when you were feeling guilty and selfish and somehow wrong for not celebrating your anniversary on the actual day, this fact was discovered by the both of you together.

Together.

Oh, but that was just it.

When you were with J, everything made sense. Even hurting as deeply and as viscerally as you were, you still found a reason to coax you through it all. J was your life. You lived for him. To please him. To be there for him. To take care of him. To love him. And J lived for you, too. He had said so as much on multiple occasions, during all the times he had said, “there ain’t no me if there ain’t no you, babydoll”. You needed each other, and on this night as you lay together in bed, with you laying atop J and your face nuzzled into the warm skin of his neck, your mind breaking the spirit of your soul despite your own and J’s best and continued efforts, everything came crashing down in the most beautiful way.

You tilted your head up and pressed a slow and reverent kiss to J’s neck; the slim line where greasepaint melded with his natural skin tone. J hummed, pleased was he with your attentions, and you brought one of your legs up so that your inner knee was pressed against J’s hip, anchoring yourself to your clown, anchoring yourself to the very reason of your existence. J’s arm tightened around you and he tipped his head down so that he could press a kiss to your forehead. You felt tears burning in your eyes from such an uncharacteristically tender display. This was why you did everything that you did. This was why you woke up every morning, to face the day whether you wanted to or not.

Everything boiled down to this.

“So, ah - y’re not mad that I forgot, doll?”

You shook your head, rubbing your nose up and down the skin of J’s neck. Your eyes were closed, your heart swelling with love and with pride. “No. I forgot too. I’m really sorry, Jack.”

J inhaled sharply. Hearing his name, especially from you, always had that effect on him. He knew that you were going to ask him the same question, so anxious were you every moment of the day, and anxious were you of your own anxiety, so he said, “I ain’t mad either. Can’t be - I got’cha, hm? My brave Hyena.”

J tightened his arms around you and so safe were you in the cage of his embrace - the key to which was always in your hands. You could move, you could come and go, as much as you wanted. J never held you against your will, not even during intense sessions with him. You followed his unvoiced suggestion (demand) and you burrowed deeper, curling yourself into J. You felt him, firm and warm against every plane of your body, and you felt so safe within yourself and within these four walls. You were home. Your eyes fluttered shut, so exhausted were you in so many ways, existentially most of all, and J felt you become a more solid weight within his arms as you relaxed.

He didn’t know why you still insisted on supporting some of your own weight when the two of you cuddled - he loved you for all of you and he didn’t understand why you treated yourself in all the ways you did. Couldn’t you see how much of a goddess you were? You were his religion and daily did he worship you at your altar.

“Hey, uh - “ Knowing was he that you were finally falling asleep and feeling ready for some rest himself, J caught your attention one more time with his low, gravelly voice. “We’ve had one trip around the sun, doll... what’d’ya say we have another, hm?” “Just one, J?” Your voice was low with sleep. You were so tired and you didn’t have the energy to deal with J’s riddles.

“No,” J pressed a tender, lingering kiss to your forehead, “All of them. I want ‘em all with you.” A beat of silence as J pursed his full lips to kiss you again. You barely felt his fingers lightly touching the ring you wore on your wedding finger. You weren’t married legally, you couldn’t be, but you considered yourselves to be life partners and that was the same thing, as far as the both of you were concerned. J’s full lips were soft and warm against your skin and he was so gentle for who he was that it made you want to cry. His next words were a mere whisper and help you, it made your tried and tired heart skip a beat. “Lilith Napier.”

Lilith Napier.

The name echoed inside your mind, a balm for your soul, and you knew that it was your true name... when you were with J, you were your truest and bravest self. You closed your eyes once more as you slipped off the precipice of your conscious mind into sleep, knowing now that you didn’t need a specific date to celebrate something which was shouted from the rooftops every single day, and the two of you learned this, as you did with everything else...

Together.

Happy one year anniversary, my love!💖💖💖

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crazy-purple-kitten · 4 years

Text

I had an idea, so presenting to you my story based on the album Splittsville by Teddy Hyde because song metaphors are boring but stories simply based off of the titles of songs and a few lyrics are not. The album cover and descriptions (and text versions) of the links will be under the cut, but for simplicity: any links in the text will be links to lyrics where I was directly inspired by them, links in the songs are the songs on YouTube, and the link above is a full album stream on YouTube!

Jet Plane - You are flying in a jet plane, flying through the sky, but there’s a big storm. You can’t see anything through the dark clouds, and the plane ends up crashing, into a field with a bright blue sky and no signs of clouds. There's a forest of orange autumn trees, a red house, and a water tower around you, indicating a quaint fall town. (that link might not work so here)

Welcome to Splittsville - The people of town welcome you, maybe too warmly, as if you just moved in, but there’s no time to worry about that because they’ve already whisked you away to go on a tour of the town, and besides, they’re so nice!

Abington’s Arcade - The first stop on your tour! You visit Abington’s Arcade with the group of townspeople. There’s a couch, and a keyboard on the wall, and there’s a freshly broken treadmill, and a TV in the lobby. You spend the day way playing video games, except when you come out, it still seems to be early in the day.

Lazy Bones Bowl-O-Drome - The next stop on your tour is the Lazy Bones Bowl-O-Drome! Bowl your worries away and be at ease!

Channel 01 Clown - (This one was harder to fit into the story, but I tried my best!) You are hired on to Channel 01 to be a fun-loving clown for the many! But alas, fewer and fewer people like clowns these days... well, off to the next stop on the tour then! The townspeople must be waiting outside!

Like the Movie by Eddy Crowley - Time to snuggle up on the couch, watch a few movies, and maybe yearn a little bit.

Terry’s Taxidermy - (This one is probably my favorite, but warnings for mild body horror(it’s not graphic or anything, but it’s definitely there) and death on the song and paragraph for this song) Time to visit Terry’s Taxidermy, where everything is a memory preserved forever, with bright smiles and lifeless joyful eyes! But you must’ve come in at the wrong time, because he is nowhere to be seen. In fact, there is a funeral being held for him right now. Sadly, he tried to taxidermy himself, having a journal reading,

And I’ve got a heart pumping messy blood And all these parts I could better cut And quit the farce of these imperfect guts Contemplation

Apparently, he was ‘not a man of foresight’ and removed his eyes first, leading to ‘less than his best work’, leading to a closed casket funeral. Well, that’s... disconcerting. You are all about to say a prayer, but the casket gets bumped, and the body falls out...

The Pack of Vultures - Forget about that last thing, kid, let’s all go take a walk in the forest! Look over there, a pack of vultures!

Target - Time to go shopping at the local grocery store, with a small side of more yearning!

Presser Diamond Co. - Time to visit those smoke stacks in the distance, where all the diamonds being sold at Presser Diamond Co. are being made! The machines whir and clog up the air with smoke as they put pressure on all the coal, turning it into diamonds.

Dead Man - Everything goes to chaos, it seems to far away and too real and crisp as you try to make your way out of this town, out of Splittsville, leave this town, leave Splittsville, leave your home, wait no no it’s not your home, what’s going on.

The album cover for Splittsville by Teddy Hyde, no discernable artist/modeler could be found, presumably Teddy Hyde himself made the cover

Links:

full album stream on youtube - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_OwdlWLupTk&t=2030s

Jet Plane - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2JWUzyPbfWk

Welcome to Splittsville - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vgkB6YBQRxY

Abington’s Arcade - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oFUuo5tRd6g

Lazy Bones Bowl-O-Drome - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0PoF6KgmgIg

Channel 01 Clown - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5lE-5YK9sZg

Like the Movie by Eddy Crowley - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Omi2i5pnPvE

Terry’s Taxidermy - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RrJhcuqdClQ

The Pack of Vultures - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CBddm0wRLfY

Target - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WFIsvPnqpeA

Presser Diamond Co. - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z-tWRWPpWYw

Dead Man - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hETUGmNCoRA

I fully reccomend listening to the album!

#mywriting #teddy hyde #splittsville #this was fun to do but apparently i write really slow so its been a bit #im proud though :) mostly because i never write anymore #and if you do like to see the deeper meanings you can look on genius.com which has the lyrics of lots of songs and people can put what they #think the lyrics mean #its a really cool website and it's where the lyric links go to :)#mystuff

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shapeshifting-arch-mage · 6 years

Text

12/04/2018

Raver Temmie and I fly on our broom to the Island. When was the last time we were here? We've come here again because we need to buy some glowsticks to pass out to the partygoers who've agreed to come to our private rave party. The one that we never got around to having because we went to Baku's rave over at Port Town's dance club. Now that was an experience.

"hey tem?"

"ya, hooman?"

"wen we get back, were gonna rite Baku a nice thank yu lettr, okay?"

"ooo, yaya!! thank u letr!! dats a grate idea!!1!" We fly our broom to the seaside store, which, unbeknownst to us, now has a new owner...

Raver Temmie and I fly our broom to the seaside store, where we'd last browsed for glowsticks. We dismount our broom, put it back inside our hat, and open the door. "i hope dis time i can find some-"

...The store looks different. We do not remember the store looking like this when we were last here. We step inside and close the door behind us. "h-hooman...?"

"yea?"

"wat happend to da store??"

"i dunno, its been a wile since we wer here. maybe sum1 redecorated it?"

We haven't seen who that someone is just yet, but if he were to look at the one who'd just entered his store, he'd see a bipedal Temmie in a pointy hat who appeared to be having a conversation with herself, as if she were two people.

"ok, but who did it?"

"i dunno." Our eyes look left and right as we take turns talking out of the same mouth.

[Salandit] The lizard frowned a little, holding the sandwich in its mouth. So... he could take random trash he didn't want, give it to this person, and they'd give him sandwiches...? ...He'd have to remember that, then. His tail flicked once more, and... before Jevil even finished his sentence, he was out the door- running at full speed towards... somewhere.

[Jevil] Jevil exhaled happily, tail wagging a bit. From his perspective, it had worked. It now knew the basics of capitalism. He laughed a little, having been greatly amused with the creature. Now though, he had a new priority. His small pointed ears shot up at the sound of the entrance bell and his attention was drawn to the newcomer: some sort of anthropomorphic white cat/dog. Them holding a conversation with themself was slightly off-putting to Jevil, but he wouldn't judge! Well at least he wouldn't let himself be too nervous, he had to serve this creature after all!

"Hello, hello to you, you! You come seeking wares is that true, true? Well, well tell me what you're looking for and I'll see what I can do, do!" Jevil wore his iconic joyous grin, mitten covered hands tucked beneath his chin as he awaited an answer.

[Rave Witch Temmie] Whoa! What was that that just darted by?! We flinch a little as the Salandit runs out the door. Once the door closes again, we turn back towards the counter and...

...Oh dear lord, what the heck is HE doing here?! He's not supposed to be out of his cell! We flinch again when he greets us, and begin to shiver, a look of dread forming on our face as he talks. After he finishes, our shivering culminates in a shudder as we cry out, "w-w-waaaaah!" We then hide our face behind our front paws.

[Jevil] He blinked once at the flinching reaction, deciding that it was only due to how loud he can become and often is to counteract the quieting nature of the shop's fabric walls. His voice would trail off somewhat as he noticed the shaking and expression. Maybe if he was quieter when he next spoke, this customer would be more comfortable here. The shudder and tears truly did distress the imp-like being, causing him to recoil a bit and spend a bit trying to figure out what he had said to cause such a reaction. Or maybe this person had very recently heard the rumors he had spread in his own world. He tensed a bit, taking in a breath, holding his hands out in front of him in the universal sign of harmlessness.

"H-hey calm down, calm down I say! There is no need for tears and no need for fears, I promise you won't be hurt, dears!" He had mainly pluralized it for the sake of rhyming rather than any knowledge of the newcomer's state.

[Rave Witch Temmie] Eugh, that voice... our shivering subsides somewhat, but not entirely. And did he just call us dears? Nnnngh...

We gingerly lower our paws from our face. They feel a bit moist... did we stain them with a tear or two? Oh geez, I didn't even notice- now that I think about it, our eyes do feel a little wet. How embarrassing...

"w-w-w-w-wat'd yu do to da store???"

[Jevil] "Just a little bit of renovation. I added a little things here and there to create what i saw in my imagination! Uee hee hee, and what a creation i've worked to see, see! No harm either considering the shop belongs to me, me!" He couldn't help but smile at the sensation of pride that whirled around in his stomach and warmed his chest. Jevil knew that there could have been countless others who sought this job and store, so he couldn't help but pride himself in the fact that the higher-ups, whoever they might be, had chosen him as the shopkeeper. No matter the poor experiences he has had so far, the bird-based robbery and the assault via spaghetti, he couldn't help but be happy and excited for all the new faces he'll be able to bring smiles to. His T ended tail swayed gently as he stared off into the distance at the thoughts.

Jevil was somewhat embarrassed when he emerged from his little day-dream. "Well, well now that you know my little slice of the resort, may I ask what wares you seek with some importe?"

[Rave Witch Temmie] "i... uh... um..." Oh geez, the little snot's gone and taken over the place, has he? Well, isn't that just faaaaan-tastic!

"human, whys a scary clown guy in da store??" Temmie thinks to me.

"Er, um, well, I don't know, but I'm pretty sure he's actually a jester." I think back.

"watsa jester??"

"It's just what it sounds like- someone who jests."

"wats that mean??"

"You know... they tell jokes, and act silly..."

"u mean liek a clown??"

"Er..."

...Well, she's got a point there. I suppose if you think of it that way, they are kind of the same thing. Anyway, back to answering said clown/jester/whatever's question. We glance to the side, unable to bring ourselves to make eye contact with him.

"i was, uh... i was g-gonna hav a hapy fun rave party... a-and i-i needa get some stuff..."

"Glowsticks." I remind her mentally.

"o-oh ya!1! glowsticks!!" We say, looking at Jevil briefly before averting our gaze once more, "i needa glowsticks for my friends at da party... i came hear to buy sum befor but dere werent none..."

[Jevil] "Glowsticks, glowsticks..." He echoes in thought, mentally running through his stock, trying to determine if he would have them. For a while he didn't think so until he recalled their wide colour variety and knew where he would have stored them. Her perks up with excitement and giggles.

"Yes, yes I think I have a set in the back, I wouldn't think glowsticks would be something we would lack, lack! Wait here a second and I'll return with the items, I reckon!" With that, the leapt down from his chair, landing with a small thud and symphony of bell jingles. He remained in a crouching position for a second, showing just how small the once-court jester was, before he bounded into the back, passing through the fabric flaps that had matched seamlessly into the wall. A series of bells and other noises emitted from the back room as Jevil scurried about to find the glowsticks he was increasingly certain he had. He remembered having some in his old shop and had brought along many of his unsold wares from there when he moved his base of operations to the island. Where, oh where, though?

Jevil leaned backwards, holding himself up with his tail as he looked through the massive selection of colorful items, a few dozen pinwheels, plastic flowers, ball-pit balls, glow- There they were! He grabbed the glass jar filled with the unused tubes of chemicals and bounced out from the back.

"I return, return with the items you yearn! I have about twenty four glowsticks as you can see here, here now, lean in close, lend an ear: 2 of whatever you have for money each, it's a rather fine deal I preach!"

[Rave Witch Temmie] Once he goes to the back room and out of our sight, Temmie whispers to me, "whys he so scaryyyy...??"

"uh, cuz of his creepy face an' his creepy voice an' his, uh, "chaos chaos" thing, or sumthin?" I whisper back.

"wats dat???" She asks.

"i dunno, youd have to ask him!" I reply.

...Wait, I shouldn't have said that. I don't want us to ask him- oh no, he's back. Wait, are those... Hey, look at that, he does have glowsticks! Who would have thought?

"...Lean in close and lend an ear? ...Really?" I think, "Hardee har har. Just because we have four ears doesn't mean we're lending that creep any of 'em!"

"uh... o-okay, y-ya, ill buy em all..." We nervously approach the counter and pay 24 credits.

[Jevil] He giggled slightly, eyeing the 24 credits.

"I believe you miscounted, miscounted! 24 credits is only enough for half of the glowsticks, not all of them, them!" He seemed rather amused by the situation though, holding onto the product a little while longer as he waited to see if they will accept only half or seek out the remaining 24 credits to pay. He thankfully seemed to be rather patient, his tail wagging slightly as he hoped up onto his chair, putting the jar of glowsticks on the counter.

"Now now, would you like to pay the full price for all of them, them, or pay what you've already paid and take only half of them, them?"

"awawawa!!1 oh nooo!1 im sorry!11! heres da rest!1!"

We quickly put 24 more credits on the counter and then take a few steps back. Geez Louise, what is with us tonight? We already embarrassed ourselves in front of this guy once; we just had to go and do it again, didn't we! Sheesh...

[Rave Witch Temmie] ...Oh, wait- the glowsticks. We can't pick them up from over here. We'll need to walk back toward him to get them- actually, no, we won't! That's right! We're a Temmie! We stick our arms out in front of us and stretch them towards the jar of glowsticks.

[Jevil] He gave an amused laugh, happily accepting the payment and pushing the jar forwards towards them, blinking as they backed away. Frankly Jevil really wasn't sure what to make of this person, he was completely unfamiliar with Temmies after all.

"It's alright, alright! You can take the glowsticks whenever you'd li-" He was taken aback by the way the customer's arms seemed to just burst forward towards him. He looked absolutely horrified for a moment, recoiling as far back as he could, taking in these rapid, quick breaths. He had his eyes squeezed shut, not opening them up again until he thought it was safe. He pressed a gloved hand into his chest. Nothing happened. He was ok. He was ok. Seam didn't come back for revenge. It's ok. He's fine. Jevil took in a deep, shaky breath.

"Sorry I... I wasn't expecting that, that..."

[Rave Witch Temmie] Whoa, hold on... we scared HIM? Are we seeing this right? Did he just dart back behind the curtains again when we reached for the jar? You've got to be kidding... He's the creepy one, not us! What's so scary about us stretching our arms out, we wonder? Maybe being in this body for so long has made me forget that Temmies can be off-putting to those who aren't used to being around them...

We grasp the jar between our paws and then retract them towards us.

"uh... y-yu ok??" We call out.

[Jevil] "Y-yes, yes! I'm ok! Just- just shaken is all, all..." He emerged still looking very much unnerved. He fidgeted with his thumbs almost as if trying to distract himself from something, yellow eye-dots tiny in residual fear. He glanced off, making sure not to look at the creature's arms, part of him terrified they'll come after him again if he looks.

"Just shaken..." He repeats, taking in a deep breath. He tries to shake himself out of the fear, forcing a small smile until it became genuine. "But don't worry about that now, now, if there anything else you want or shall we say ciao?"

[Rave Witch Temmie] "is dere, uh..." Temmie remembers something she wanted to ask him. The thing I didn't want her to ask him.

"Temmie, no! Don't-"

"w-wats ur "chaos, chaos" thing?? human dint want me to- mmf!"

Since both our paws are full, I press the jar against our mouth to silence her.

[Jevil] "My chaos, chaos thing?" He seems confused for a moment, wondering what they could be referring to. Perhaps a combination of his repetition and his shop's title perhaps?

"Well if you're asking about the shop's name, that's easy, easy! It's important, so important not to fall into routine or it could suck up all your glee, glee! So I made a little shop back home just like this one, one where people can come and buy the things they need while also having a little fun, fun!" He giggles happily, tail wagging, mind seemingly off whatever had him so terrified before.

"As for saying things twice, twice, well I'm just following my own advice! Keep things fun, keep things nice, and life is sure to entice, entice!"

[Rave Witch Temmie] Sigh... why'd she have to ask him that...? Thanks to her, we had to listen to him yap at us in that spooky voice again! Though, on the other hand, I'm now very confused by his answer. We were not talking about this store, or his quirky speech patterns, at all. I had wanted to leave as soon as we'd bought our glowsticks, but now, I'm curious as to why he didn't seem to know what we were really referring to.

I decide to take control of our mouth from Temmie for a moment, and ask, "yu had anothr store? wat yu mean?? what happend to da cat guy??"

[Jevil] His mood shifted to discomfort at the mention of "da cat guy". Well, there was another question in there so he could ignore that part for longer.

"Yes, yes, I had another store, store. I opened it myself after the King decided he didn't want a court jester anymore, anymore. I could have done anything, anything indeed, but I thought that a shop of fun is what the kingdom would need. Then, then just recently, I got a letter in the mail, mail asking if I would be interested in coming here to do sale! I took it, took it I did, and that's why the island I now work amid!"

[Rave Witch Temmie] We shiver a little again as we listen to his creepy, singsong rhyming.

"yea, but, wat about dat cat guy, da one wit da button eye?"

Oh geez, now he's got us rhyming, too! Curses!

"i thot he was suppost to hav a store!1"

[Jevil] Oh god they really were talking about him. Jevil's pupils started to shrink again, seeming to grow panicked again. He seemed to grab onto his tail for comfort.

"I know who you're talking about but not what. Seam went mad years, years ago, it was very unfortunate... I just hope that now that his life in done, he isn't insane in heaven." He seems to be shaking a bit, really not wanting to recall those memories. That battle. That grin. By god, that grin. He tried squeezing it out of his mind, pressing his eyes shut and holding his head. That grin. That grin. It persisted even as Jevil had watched Seam rip his arm half-off to use as a weapon. He let loose a whine, shivering.

[Rave Witch Temmie] Our face goes blank. "...hes ded??"

[Jevil] Jevil nodded, trying to return to reality the best he could. Trying to pry himself away from the memories. Away from that battle. Jevil had technically won, but that did nothing to help his conscious. He held onto his tail tightly.

"Yes... Yes the once magician is gone, gone like the rain, only I, the once jester, remain."

[Rave Witch Temmie] Our jar of glowsticks in hand, we take several more steps back, uneasy at the thought of Seam being dead. Or at least I am. Temmie doesn't know who he is. While Jevil laments his loss, we back out the door with our purchase.

#discord #discord rp #undertale temmie #deltarune #deltarune jevil #jevil

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