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sadman-morgan · 4 years

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rainy night muse: the morning after

Part one can be read here!

pairing: arthur morgan x neutral!reader

summary: A tired Arthur wakes you up for an early morning errand

word count: 1.6k

warnings: none, other than extreme fluff with one cowboy.

—

You had slept alongside each other for a few hours before a familiar rasp filled your ears, causing your eyes to flutter open.

“Darlin….Darlin...wake up.” Arthur whispered as he carefully nudged you awake.

“Huh? I-I’m up, Is something wrong, love?” you mumbled as you tried to wipe the exhaustion from your eyes.

“No, nothin’ at all...we gotta do somethin’ while it’s still early...follow me,” Arthur said.

“We gotta do something? It’s still dark out.” you questioned, “What time is it?”

Arthur picked up a small pocket watch from your bedside. “Three thirty. We gotta move, c’mon,” He said quietly.

You shook your head in disagreement, “This better be good, Morgan,” you snapped.

Arthur chuckled. “Don’t get so short with me, it’ll be good, promise.”

You both walked to your horse and saddled up quietly to not disturb the sleeping camp members.

As your horse trotted away, you rested your hands on Arthur’s waist to avoid falling off. He flinched in surprise of your warm touch.

Riding this early in the morning was always serene. The air was chilly, surrounding grass still drenched from last evening’s pouring rain. Noises of critters and the occasional passing rider were music to you and Arthur’s ears.

After an hour of riding, your horse came to a halt.

Arthur hopped off the horse first, then reached out his hand in assistance.

“Close yer eyes.” he said.

As your eyes began to close, Arthur held your hand with strength that you had never felt from him before.

With your eyes still closed and your hand held tightly, Arthur led you to a nearby tree.

“You can open ‘em now.” he said.

Your eyes opened to warm orange and yellow tones of the rising sun, bouncing off against the calm waters of the Calumet ravine. Beautiful trees stood high in the sky.

“Oh my god.” you silently mouthed as your eyes began to widen in astonishment. You looked over at Arthur, who was quietly watching the sunrise.

He repeatedly glided his thumb over the corner of his mouth before glancing at you, only to quickly stare at something else in embarrassment when you looked back at him.

“It’s...It’s pretty, ain’t it? He said.

You looked at him, then back out at the rising sun.

“It’s so gorgeous, Arthur,” you said.

Standing no more than six inches apart, you slowly brushed your fingers across his calloused hand, to which he flinched.

“Are you okay? Did I do somethin wrong?”

“I’m...real sorry, ain’t been touched like that in a long while. Y’didn’t do nothin wrong. I’m sorry-” he stuttered.

You pulled your hand away, letting it rest at your side.

A cold, awkward silence filled the early morning air.

“Can I...can I hold your hand?” he asked.

“You don’t really gotta ask me.”

“Didn’t wanna do nothin outta line,” he said.

You smiled softly and nodded, “yes. You may hold my hand”

When he was given the green light, your fingers lovingly interlocked. You both stood in silence for a moment to admire the sunrise. Once your fingers unlocked, he cautiously swung his arm around you, pulling you in close to his side.

“I wish this moment could last forever. It’s so gorgeous here,” You murmured.

“Me too, y/n,” he said.

Once you separated from his side, there was another calming silence.

“Hold on a moment,” Arthur said as he dug through his satchel, in search of his journal.

“Do...Do you like ‘em?” He asked.

“Hmm? What are you talk-”

“My...my drawings, do you like them? Always knew you peeked at ‘em, never bothered me too much.” he said.

“Aw, shit. Not as sly as I thought I was, huh?” you laughed.

“Unfortunately not, darlin.” he laughed in reply.

“I’m flattered you like them, never been comfortable with anyone else seeing them.”

“That’s real kind of you to say, Morgan,” you said.

“y/n...can...can I draw you?” he questioned.

“Right now?” you replied.

He nodded. “Sorry if It’s too early, just think you look stunnin...” his voice trailed off.

“...Just want something to remind me of how happy you make me feel,”

“Sure. I don’t see any harm,” you said with a shy smile.

“Alright...stand over there and look pretty. Though for you, that won’t be any trouble,” he said while pointing off close to the ledge.

When you stood as directed and struck a pose, Arthur began to draw. He lovingly glanced at you, and back in his journal. He almost looked childlike with the excitement in his eyes. This was the first time he ever formally asked if he could draw you. He wanted to make sure it was special.

You stood for a couple of minutes as he continued to scribble to his heart’s content.

“You’re free to move around, I’ve just finished..” he said.

You walked towards him as he placed his journal in your hands, waiting for your approval.

Your fingers grazed across the page.

“This is...so gorgeous, thank you,” you said with a smile.

“I have something else, cmere” he said.

Arthur walked to a nearby tree and sat down. You followed and sat down next to him.

Arthur pulled out his satchel and dug inside, pulling out a few cans, and other items.

“Sorry I don’t have too much,” he sighed.

“Don’t worry, it’s alright. No problem for me,” you said.

You both shared and quietly ate the few items from his satchel, your hunger failing to subside.

You laid back against the tree, raising your hand to cover a yawn.

“I’ve been thinking. About last night, I’m real sorry about possibly being aggravating. I just could not get to sleep.” you said.

“I remember you talking to me, but I don’t remember too much after that, must’ve finally nodded off.”

Arthur shook his head and smiled. “Didn’t do me no harm.”

Arthur had remembered everything.

Arthur remembered your restlessness, your soft whimpers as you tossed and turned, desperately trying to get comfortable with him. He fought against gravity pulling down on his eyelids for hours. He refused to fall asleep until you did. Listening to you crying in pain broke his heart. As his eyelids started to close, you kicked deep into his side, causing him to groan.

He wanted you to get some sleep, and felt guilty that you were up so late. Before his eyes finally closed, he gently rolled you onto your stomach.

“I’m gonna take real good care of ya~” he mumbled.

When you nodded in acceptance, Arthur pressed his hands to your back, gently rubbing in small, soothing circles. Tingles rushed down your spine as his hand rose to idly play with your hair.

His attention returned to your back and shoulders, slowly pressing against your sore muscles to signal the incoming additional pressure.

You quietly groaned as he began to work out your knotted muscles. After a few minutes, he slowed down to admire you. His hard, loving efforts were beginning to show results. Your breathing slowed from underneath him as you began to relax. He continued for a moment before you finally fell back asleep.

He snapped out of his train of thought regarding the night before and glanced over at you beginning to shiver, arms crossed to retain any body heat that may remain.

‘It’s getting a lil chilly..aint it?” You spoke through your chattering teeth.

Arthur nodded his head and brushed his shoulder, “A little.”

You continued to shiver. Arthur raised his hand, covering his mouth as he let out a yawn. Arthur sat still for a second before removing his arms from his leather jacket, tossing it over to the side.

“Arthur? What are you-”

“C’mere, don’t want chu freezing out here,” he mumbled.

You scooched in between his legs, nuzzling your head deep against his chest.

Arthur wrapped an arm around you. While holding you tightly, he used his free hand to drape his jacket over you both.

“Jacket won’t keep ya the warmest in the world, but my love fer you sure will,” he mumbled into your ear.

You felt both your face and heart begin to overheat with love. Your heart could pop out of your chest if Arthur continued to spoil you like this.

You pushed an ear against his chest and listened to the rhythmic pounding of his golden heart.

Arthur raised a hand from underneath the jacket, repeatedly gliding it through your hair with great care.

“You’re so gorgeous...don’t think I tell you that enough,” he said.

You wanted to cry into his chest. What could you have possibly done to deserve this pure soul, Arthur Morgan, in your life? You had never felt this loved, this appreciated, this safe from anyone before.

You slowly rose from his chest and turned to face him, moving closer into his lap.

Now straddling him, you gazed straight into his vulnerable, tired eyes.

He inhaled as you looked each other deep in the eyes.

You raised a hand and gently traced his jawline with your finger tips, his stubble scratching against your skin.

Pausing at his chin, you gently dragged your thumb across his bottom lip as his eyes followed your every movement.

You continued to trace his jawline. As you reached the other end of his face, your hand slowly trailed across his face, admiring his stubble.

You placed your free hand down at his side and leaned in, pestering him again with eye contact.

“Can I kiss you?” you asked.

Arthur nodded and pulled you closer towards him, lips beginning to lovingly lock together.

You kissed deeply for a moment before your lips wandered to give his jawline and neck the same affection.

You finally pulled away and gazed back up at him.

He chuckled and shook his head, “y’dont really gotta ask me,”

You leaned in to give him a final quick smooch on the lips.

“A handsome man always asks me before he shows me affection, just returning the favor.”

“Didn’t wanna do nothin outta line,” you said.

---

an: Hope you guys like this. I also take writing requests! My inbox is always open.

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imnotwolverine · 4 years

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Mischief Managed

Mischievous Professor Clark x librarian reader

Author’s note: This is part of the Cavillry School writing challenge by @oh-for-fic-sake ❤️

Word-count: 1.869

Warnings: naughty fluff (I mean, just look at this puppy!)

The library is shy of abandoned and the ceiling-high bookshelves are looming like ancient trees over the last section of the library that is still lit. It’s a Friday night and mischief is in the air, the sound of giggling girls catching the ear of the last soul that still lingers between these bundles of knowledge.

A man, tall as a tree himself stands in the gentle kiss of the light, his strong fingers leafing precariously through one of the books. No, no, no. Slowly he shakes his head, an obnoxious onyx curl falling over his chiseled face. No, no, no. This is not was he was looking for.

Knitting his brow he pushes the book back on one of the shelves, his free hand placing the curl back where it belongs. How long would this take?

Sighing quietly he lets his eyes wander back in the direction of the entrance, his ears once again catching the girlish giggles of his eavesdroppers.

Oh you ladies!..If only you knew what's awaiting you. His lips curl up in a knowing smile as he pulls yet another book from the shelves, his ears now picking up the sound of two quiet feet, muffled by nightly slippers.

There she comes..

—

‘Miss Juliette, Miss Tanya, say now, what reason have you for being out of your beds?’ Your voice echoes clean off the smooth tiles as the two girls quickly straighten up, their backs pressing awkwardly into the slightly opened library doors.

’N-nothing.’ Juliette bites her thin lip.

You raise an eyebrow above your half-moon glasses, not believing one word of it.

‘I see. You were just..sleep-walking then? Together?’

‘Yes!’ Tanya nods quickly, ‘I mean..yes Misses..’

‘Miss..and..’ You silence them with a raised finger, your curiosity now getting the best of you as you too notice the light that licks through the slightly ajar door. Someone has snuck into your sanctuary! Well, have you there! Your eyebrows raise even further as you look back at the mischievous two, their teeth biting into nervous lips.

‘Very well then. Off to bed!’ You whisper with hush authority, the girls already sprinting away before you can finish: ‘And...quietly!’

Mischief, mischief, mischief! Was it something in the air today? First you find the Smith’s girls attempting to rip out a page of one of your beloved biology books. A very special page may you add - with very special..naked..male examples.

You wet your lips as you get ready to find the next mischievous soul, your fingers gliding over the cold handle of the heavy door as you push it open.

In the very back of the library you notice a solitary crest of light, the free-standing bookcases in the middle of the space obstructing your view, making you even more curious about this nightly visitor.

Curiosity killed the cat, but ..satisfaction.. brought it back.

With careful steps you move over the Persian carpets, the thick wool quieting your feet as you finally get to see the curious critter. But much to your surprise, it’s not one of the girls; it’s a wide-shouldered..fine male example.

Clearing your throat you take another step, making your presence known without treading into the light: a little shock would surely make him think twice about snooping around in your sanctuary, right?

But no. You are mistaken there. It doesn’t seem to phase the young professor at all, his eyebrow slowly quirking up as he looks straight at you in the darkness.

Guess he has some night-goggle glasses there, hmm?

‘Bit of a nightcrawler, professor Clark?’ Your question lingers in the air as his signature half-smirk curls up his lips, his broad shoulders shrugging sheepishly.

‘Apologies. I didn’t mean to wake you misses..-‘ — ‘It’s miss.’ — ‘Miss.’ His eyes quickly drift over your long, sophisticated nightgown, your covered body shivering underneath his undressing blue gaze.

He wets his lips as he quickly averts his eyes back to yours. ‘Please don’t let me keep you. I’ll make sure to lock up once I..’

You click your tongue and he instantly quiets, your feet stepping into the light now your presence is known - and seen. Squinting slightly, you look up at the large framed man, this small hidden-away nook suddenly feeling even smaller, the thousands of books embracing you both in a pathway no wider than a few feet.

Taking a steadying breath you are suddenly so very aware of his presence, your feet quick to turn your attention to the books before you melt right onto the carpet.

A carpet that would look good with the two of you on it, doing things from the biology...NO, stop that!

Calming your racy thoughts, you find yourself a task at hand, your fingers pulling out one of the books. ‘You didn’t put it in the right place.’ You say pedantically, pushing it a few shelves higher, your feet having to lift to reach.

‘My apologies, Miss.’ His low sweet voice crawls into the shell of your ear as you feel him getting closer, his hand reaching out to help, but doing quite the opposite. Hands touching, you feel his fingers press the cover back into its snug home.

Where it belongs.

And right then you can think of other things that could find belonging beneath his fingertips. OKAY. No. Stop this. Girls school. 11 o’clock. Time for bed. Behave yourself!

But ooph..there is just something about this charming professor. His masculinity oozes through the thin layer of fabric that hides you from him and again you feel so bare, his musk mingling wonderfully with the smell of old books and dusty oak.

‘I can’t have you…’ You turn around, but your warning never makes it past your lips as you find his face suddenly so very close to yours.

Mischievously close.

He licks his lips again. ‘..I was just..’ His words don’t make it much further as his blue eyes grow black, that same boyish little tug playing at his lips.

‘..looking for the stars?’ You try, making his smile grow.

GO TO BED NOW.

‘Well it sure is a perfect night.’

‘And yet you are staring at..books.’

For a hesitant moment you both just seem to exist, waiting for gravity to pull you towards or away from each other. But that would probably take light years and ..

‘Oh!’ You giggle nervously as he suddenly presses forward, lips brushing over yours as your glasses clash into one another.

The both of you can’t help but laugh, the surprisingly swift move on his end ending in a clumsy crash of glass to glass.

‘Apologies again.’ He awkwardly crooks his lips as he quickly takes off his glasses, your hand instinctively doing the same.

You don’t see much without them, but it doesn’t matter. Within moments you feel that you don’t need your eyes to stargaze with this professor, his lips tasting of coffee and smiles. And promises. And surprising strength and...

‘OH!’ You gasp as he pushes you into the bookshelves, one of his hands calming you, caressing you, fingertips grazing over your cheek and neck while the other plants itself firmly next to your head.

Almost as if he’s keeping himself grounded.

You are not grounded at all though. Your heart flutters with embarrassing giddiness as he kisses you like they do in the movies. Or in really good romantic Jane Austen novels actually. But then even better.

He is a good kisser, the type that carefully tests what you like before he goes on. From sweet lip pecks to a little probe, a tongue caressing your flesh, before he tries a little nip. And then a harsher bite. A more eager tug. Before he goes back to a few hot sweet pecks.

Anything you had dreamed of as you had watched the professor meander through your library with his students, was nothing compared to how you feel right now. Your fingertips tangle through those soft obnoxious curls and your lips curl in a smile as he rewards you with yet another sweet merry kiss.

‘Wait,’ He suddenly quirks his head, hands pulling you away from the bookcase and more into the shadow. ‘someone’s coming.’

You're not sure if you’re so happy-daisy that you’ve just lost both vision and hearing, but alas, you quickly nod and gesture at one of the bookshelves.

‘There’s a..a...lever..a..’ You claw at some of the books until you find it, his breath hot behind you as the secret passage opens before you; a good thing about old schools is that there is often more than one way out of a precarious situation. And you sure are in a precarious situation right now. The both of you are supposed to be in your beds. Your OWN beds. You're supposed to give a good example! Not this..this..you reach your hands forward as your sight leaves you half-blind in the narrow dark corridor behind the secret door.

Behind you, you can hear the bookcase slide closed again, professor Clark’s silent footfalls not far behind you.

‘Woa.’ He says quietly, probably ogling the small hallway, which, if you are to take a right turn, would lead you to...

Gentle moonlight washes through a large glass door that leads out to the nightly gardens, a million stars pricking little lights in the solid black sky.

By daytime a hundred girls would walk up and down this hall to go to class or lunch. But right now it’s quiet, your lips letting out a silent sigh as you turn back to Clark.

The both of you can’t help but giggle.

‘Mischief managed.’ He grins and you giggle even louder, poking him playfully. ‘I always got some Harry Potter vibes with you professor..though of course you are a more..grown..’ Your eyes may not see every little detail, but his large presence is hard to miss.

As are his lips, his hands catching your cheeks again as he tilts your head to get another taste of what was so abruptly stopped moments earlier.

And then he pulls back again, his eyes rolling in their sockets. Another visitor? Were you really so...deaf?

‘Ssh.’ He hushes as he pulls your giggling figure back into a well-hidden nook.

Now you hear it too. Footsteps, a gruff voice echoing through the near-empty hall. ‘Looks like someone left the light on ‘s all.’

Was that Coach Sy? Perhaps.

You reach for each other’s mouths, hands muffling your incessant giggles as the figure passes, then disappears.

Now the moonlight cascades so prettily over his face, you must at least see him, and so you hastily put your glasses back on, afraid that if you’d blink he’d be gone again. That this is just another vivid daydream.

But it’s not. As you regain your vision you look straight up at two pale blue eyes that shine with care and gentleness, his hand caressing your hot-burning cheek.

‘Looks like you don’t really need those glasses do y--’ As the words leave your lips, realisation strikes. Without the glasses, and in the gentle light of a thousand stars..he looks like..like..

He bites his lip as he sees the reality sink in your eyes.

‘Oh my.’ You gulp, but he quickly shrugs it off.

‘Hi.’ He smiles boyishly.

‘Hi.’ You blush.

‘And eh, I’m actually more of a sci-fi guy, you see.’ His deep voice sounds almost longingly as his blue eyes now turn to the dark sky that calls for him outside.

Sighing softly he pushes his own glasses into his chest pocket, deciding he won’t need them for now - but it’s not just that; it also frees up his hands. With a hint of a smirk he turns his mischievous blues back to you.

‘Want to see?’

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nvcl347 · 4 years

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G-man x Neutral Reader : Float

There is nothing more stimulating to one’s inner awareness than the sense of being watched. The cunning, grievous impression that there is someone evermore at the fine ridge of your shoulder. From the critters of dusk to the bliss of dawn, it can arise to your chest anytime. Anywhere. An omnipresent hunch with no repercussions to solitude. A light in the dark can soothe any youth. A weapon at a man’s mattress gives solace in safeguard and shelter for his wife. All these fears ranging from modest chills to relentless terrors come with their individual set of gauzes, but being observed is one that cannot be cured unless the watcher willfully recedes.

You had found no cure. Not for an entire week.

The feeling of paresthesia stunned you into place. The delicate, benign stroke of your duvet served you nothing to placate your place of thought. It was strikingly apathetic, yet your guts shifted in bleak consciousness to what was emerging before you. The atmosphere descended to the rug of your floor like a miasma of mist. A clear, untempered fog without warmth or cold in its jot mass. It was corresponding sensitivity which resonated itself from the visibly imperceptible occupancy in the room.

This ringing peal in your ears chimed and chanted the closing bearing of hazardous peril nearing you. The first wave crushed you above and beyond head to toe. Comatose struck you stiff to your feet. An excrescent stimulant so strong, yet so brusque in moments. A shrill swallow purged your windpipe to no inclusive care as it took mere instants for the swelling lump of vulnerability to smother it once more. A throbbing response dwindled to the itch of your temple with the twitch of an eye. This was a frigid prison cell languidly sealing its aged, corroded bars around you. You only had so much time before the lock lost its key for good. You took no further chance of stalling in your rotted ditch as it was now. You made a break for it, a break made too late.

The second wave flustered you with sheer cortisone you had only seen portrayed in movies before. Pure stress, no rationality. Everything is done as nothing more than towards the aim to get away from something, whether that ambition proves itself to be even possible or not. Sure, there was an absolute source of skepticism wavering in your mind that you surely couldn’t ring on a run for your life forever-- not even that long at all really-- but it was enough to confer to him that you weren’t permitting this contract to compensate you without some form of a fight.

Your window was your only gate of haven wide enough to devise your way out of the enclosing cell that was suffocating you inside. A glint of day, no bigger than even a speck of dust, twinkling the sun’s rays in the oppression of dark’s shadow. It was your first jolt of instinct to approach, with no rebellious alternatives available to your disposal. Your apartment had gone still, which wasn’t deemed strange for how often CP suppressed noise, but the silence here was different. It brought about the uneasy feeling that you had just suffered a grave loss, one without the awareness that they were really absent due to the fact that you tended to be so accustomed to their company in prior times ago. Tragedy, without its grief.

The sky was the first to greet you in a welcome of cherries and lavished grape wine streaking the cloudless atmosphere above you. The Combine had stolen so much away from humanity, but the few of which they still held for themselves was the beauty of their stars. It reminded you of the phrase, “your days are numbered.” It seemed to be all but a distant fever dream you wished you could grasp again. Days… suddenly became minutes in less than the blink of an eye. The pace in your grappled rivalry signaled you were down to the second, each footstep counting a ticking timebomb with no number to reference. All you knew was that your minute slot was at zero.

To the edge of every complex was a leap of faith. A discouragement for your well-being suddenly an encouragement for your life. A freeze in time, a spark of recollection for all your anterior opportunities seem to carelessly fall from the pockets of your shirt with each jump across a thin, sullen alley descending below you. You were loosing more than simply your hope and energy in your race for time with the earth’s sun. You were loosing what made you, you.

Then, something shattered.

Shattered. Shredded. Snapped-- split into two. It all came down to one fatal leap. A leap, without its faith, and rather the denial that this effort of running for the preservation of your ages to come was even worth its striking endeavor. It gave you an image of strength… nothing more. This was no passion that led to a glorified satisfactory succession, it was a failure that provided the solace of a short-term benefit: the fraudulent display of rebellion, unveiled to be an insignia of desperation. You were better off resting your hour to the prison cell of your room. You’ve been caught in the midst of an escape, and now your sentence aches deeper to your price.

The concrete edge of the rooftop struck you in your abdomen with enough force to knock more than just the wind out of you. There was no reaction time for the pain to follow the fractures in which had resulted from the critical impact, hurling you rearward into a longspun lapse of descent down into the melancholy alley below. An angel who befell not from the skies of heaven, but from the soil of earth. Your eyes gaped open as if you saw a crackle of lightning that never evanesced back into its home within the clouds. The unfolding action was so swift your diaphragm seemed to be lost in time in order to let out nothing more than the shrivel of breath, a gasp of surprise, and the last fresh intake of earth’s green air.

This fall continued so until you realized what should’ve been a fatal strike into pavement became an everlasting freefall, with your back confronting first what would’ve been your impending face of impact. A swell of abnormal nostalgia puffed into your chest as the pressure of gravity released itself of your every limb. The air that entered your lungs was not of the familiarity of your home. This was something distinct, different. It reminded you of a delicate celestial nature, with its particles of dust like the singularities of nebula clouds. You were filled with the sensation of satisfaction for something that didn’t exist. The nonchalance of times not of your memory, but of someone else. This stillness of time held you down in metal chains. You weren’t in freefall, you were floating in a cage.

As if dosed with anesthesia, the sensory vision of what took place around you was vague and numb to you. You were conscience, but the trail of thought in your head met a roadblock of elaborating what was taking place around you. You could see, hear, feel, taste, and smell, but nothing could process in you. It just all took place as a memory. A chamber of darkness sealed around you so obscure that its true size couldn’t be defined as anything more than an abyss in your sight. A white glow, alike to the pure radiance of a moon at midnight, shun over your form from above without a conceivable source. It was a contrast in light so strong that the bottom half of yourself blended into the silhouette of the environment around you. Anything could hide in these shadows without a sense of ease. And, to be sure, one did.

Defiant of the darkness, a flash of blue gleamed from afar, yet felt so close. With all but visibility to the iris, it was clear that hidden under the black garment was a malevolent, disturbing smile. A man who knew what he did best had been done again, and it never failed to gain his muse. The fix of a slick cuff appeared foremost as the man entered into full view for the first time, a posture so formal it felt uncanny in parallel to his stalking pace.

From every minute detail, not a string of fabric or inch of hair was missed in his sight of consideration. Introductions were done so in silence, as both of you were collectively aware of who each other were. Old acquaintances fallen and succumbed to a pair of cat and mouse.

Your right hand slowly raised into the air with leisurely grace, reaching out into the hollow of moonlight. A Michaelangelo painting come to life, with no god providing a yield to the touch of creation. An expression, gray and inert, but clear that there was a starving hunger for freedom inside. Deep down, there lied a wind of thirst, unable to reach out in any way, left to be discovered-- and so it had.

The man walked forward into your straight frame of vision, leaning over your deadened form alike to a corpse on an autopsy table. His head tilted to the side with latent pastime. His hand tenderly caressed yours in the midst of the air, cementing it into place with the nuzzle clench of his fingers. A flash of light traced his stare, fragmentarily liberating you of your cerebral roadblock only allotting yourself to obtain the awareness of what was taking place. Feelings of pother, dismay, and others yet to be given names before took no paramount interval in coursing within your every smallest thread of nerve in your body. Paralysis, if only of a being simply from your figment of the imagination.

His head tipped forward, mere inches away from yours. The daunting pallid smirk of his face, although resembling that of a humanoid complexity, was eerie enough to radiate the sense of disturbing heartlessness. A sharp, ghastly inhale seeped through his lips as he proceeded to speak to you in a macabre tone that of a vile serpent.

“I would have preferred for our encounter to conjecture in more blithesome circumstances if not for your cause of strain to avoid your... troubles, Mx. (L/N),” your spinal cord strived to rattle down a line of a shiver, unable to do so in an instantaneous matter.

“Granted it seems that there was no other way we could have met under terms without some form of discomfort in your underlying perspective, but…” he paused himself, gazing off into the vacant interval of distance in realization. He revered that this stall of fundamental discussion was unnecessary and of no importance. His mouth flinched in agitation of himself with his eyebrows collectively furrowing against the aged skin of his forehead.

“You are aware of why I am here, and therefore you understand what I must do,” he leaned away from your face back into his straightforward posture, flapping the lapels of his navy suit into his desired position. You mentally heaved a sigh of relief in your mind, yearning that he would release you for dear life.

“These conditions are the first who ought delivered action in your-- timeline before. I cannot say that is a title you should hold any sense of peremptory regard in,” he began to trace your form about in circles, studying your loose outline as his hands placed towards one another against the tie of his thorax.

“For now, I can only provide my condolences to your prospect… that perhaps my employers solicit a sign of potential in you as I have, but they are not so magnanimous towards subjects. I have argued to preserve you for a time, tantamount to another reputable individual I have attended in previous years. There is a recognition that you two are not so different,” he halted himself right at the edge of your head, with only the fit of his shoulder and the point of his elbow visible in your line of sight. A long breath chiseled through him once more, peering down at his Oxfords.

“It appears however that, despite when under stipulations of no jurisdiction, you nevertheless are rather alienated in compliance. For chance, Mx. (L/N), there must be change,” his form turned his back towards yours, stepping away with the track of his footwear to tap away until his withdrawal of physical ubiquity.

“It is something that of human nature for free will to allow to chose your path. It is quite often that my hires often are given this illusion, but I believe you are mature enough to be fitted with this judgment…”

The rate at which his occupancy faded equivocated to the likes of which you were alleviated of your comprehensive thought of surroundings once more. All was dark, silent, and still. Your wide-open eyes shielded the windows to a soul that had been torn away. Liberty was a concept long forgotten, the amalgamation of deviation and resultant consequence.

Your hand proceeded to reach for the void that was the sky in a relationship with the sublime, kindled by the light of ivory. Over and over, you could hear his words relapse in your mind similar to a broken record. Crackles, cuts, stutters, and shifts decimated itself with every replay. A vaguer message, a melting hope.

Subject: (Y/N) (L/N)

Status: Pacified

Further Evaluation Pending

#half life #gman #g-man #half-life #gman x reader #x reader #neutral reader #writing #half life 1 #half life 2 #half life alyx

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teffyjeffy · 4 years

Text

Fabric Tears (Part 2)

NEXT (Coming Soon to the Mystery Shack!)

PART 1

SKIP TO PART 3

ONCE UPON A TIME...

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Mabel was stolen away from her fluffy-animal-infested dream when she heard what could only be described as... a Dipper Scream.

Mabel quickly shot up, standing on her bed and getting into a crane stance. "WHO GOES THERE!? SPEAK NOW OR FOREVER LOSE YOUR TEETH!!!"

Frisk was quick to follow, mumbling incoherently as they slowly sat up from their sleeping position in the sleeping bag. They covered their left ear as Mabel bellowed. "Mmmmgh not so loud, Mabel... Whatsssss going on?"

Then they saw it.

There, sitting in a ball position at the left leg of Dipper's headboard, was a familiar plum-furred bear.

The whole thing with it actually breathing? And making bear noises? And eating Dipper's left sock? Those were definitely unfamiliar territory.

"Oh dear," was all that Frisk could manage.

For what felt like too long of an amount of time, nobody else spoke. All they could do was focus on the bear that was devouring the poor sock like it was nothing but an ice cream sandwich. Finally Dipper spoke up. Or tried to, at least. "B- ba- b-b-bear.. ee…eeeeee… eatinggggg… mmmmmmy sock. It just… it was up in my face and-"

Mabel finally found her voice, and the first thing she did with it was shout "Mr. SnuggleLots?!?! How are you alive?? And... what are you doing with my brother's sock?! That's not healthy for you at all! Any sock that's on Dipper's feet must be washed, sterilized, and quarantined for a week! And you have it in your mouth?!"

Frisk blanched. "Dipper, is that actually true???"

"Wha- no!!!" said the dumbfounded Dipper. "At least... good god, I hope not...!"

"Mr. SnuggleLots, drop that sock this instant!" said Mabel, dropping down from the bed and beginning to march towards the Teddy.

In response, the plum bear gave a disgruntled huff and turned itself... or, himself away from Mabel. Dipper and Frisk watched in shock and awe (but mostly shock) as the bear finished scarfing down the no doubt toxic sock and swallowing it. He then gave a sigh of satisfaction.

"Nooooooooooooo..." moaned Dipper, sounding like he just watched a brand new car that he purchased go careening off a cliff. "I lose enough socks in the laundry as is..."

"That was one hungry Mr. SnuggleLots," commented Frisk, having yet to get out of their sitting position in their sleeping bag. That quickly changed though when the bear made his way to the sleeping bag and started to gnaw on it. "Hey!" said Frisk, mildly perturbed.

"Alright Mr. SnuggleLots, t-that was your last warning!" said Mabel, who was honestly adapting to this situation remarkably fast. Not that it made things any less weird. Mabel walked right up behind the bear and lifted him up from the ground. "What am I going to do with you?! ...Seriously guys, what am I going to do with him??? Mabel's Rehabiliteddy Program™ was never prepared to handle Teddy bears that went sentient!"

Before anybody could answer her though, the Teddy bear very rudely latched his mouth onto Mabel's pajama sleeve and began to chew.

"AAACK!!!!" Hollered Mabel, making the other kids wince. The fact that nobody had barged into their room yet to demand some peace and quiet was honestly more miraculous than the sentient Teddy bear. And if that bear didn't let go soon, Mabel was just going to keep on shouting.

The bear refused to let go, and Mabel began running around the room on top of shouting, forcing Frisk to get out of their sleeping bag so they didn't get trampled.

"Not the pajama sweater!" Mabel cried out. "Anything but the pajama sweater! Mr. SnuggleLots let go! LET GO LET GO LET GO!

"Hold still, Mabel! I'll get him!" announced Dipper, looking poised and ready to leap out of his bed and natch the pesky plushie.

What happened next happened in slow motion.

Having realized that she was getting nowhere by shouting or running around, Mabel took her franticness up one more notch. She started spinning around like a ferocious helicopter-propeller. Around and around she went, getting dizzier with each passing second. But she never relented. Nobody was eating her sweater tonight!

Then, finally, she felt the extra weight on her sleeve disappear. She gave a sigh of dizzy relief.

CRAAASSSSSSHHHHHH!!!

Dipper and Frisk looked on in speechless horror as Mr. SnuggleLots had been flung off of Mabel's sleeve and straight through the bedroom window. The kids only barely registered the audible thud of the bear hitting the ground. Then huffing. Then scampering away.

...

"Whoops," squeaked Mabel

"Hoo boy," added Frisk.

"Mabel, what on earth was that thing?! And why is its name 'Mr. SnuggleLots?!?!'" barked Dipper.

"Three..." mumbled Frisk gloomily, like they were counting down to Ragnarok.

"Excuse me?! If you didn't spend all day sleeping away in bed," snapped Mabel in response, "we could already be heading out after him instead of playing catch up!"

"Two..."

"Let the thing go, for all I care!" snarled Dipper, leaning against the door and gesturing to the broken window."Cursed or not, that Teddy bear was never yours! Bet you $50 a witch owns that toy!"

"One..."

"No deal!" declared Mabel, crossing her arms in an "X" formation. "There's no guarantee that the bear has an owner to begin with! This is all laid out in the Rehabiliteddy Program™ which, once again, you wouldn't have missed if you didn't waste the day away in your bed!"

Dipper scowled. "Listen Mabel-!"

The door suddenly swung open violently, painfully sandwiching Dipper between the door and the wall. There, standing rigid and fuming, was Toriel.

“You all have five seconds to explain yourselves for this racket before I officially lose my temper. Starting now.”

"And that's why we need to go after him!" finished Mabel, waiting patiently as her scarf was wrapped around her.

"Goodness..." said Toriel, finishing Mabel's scarf and moving on to Frisk now that Mabel was all bundled up. "I will admit I still find the whole thing to be far fetched, but after the encounter you three had with that Blind Biker a few days ago, I'm inclined to believe any type of weird phenomena story that comes out of the mouths of you three."

Everyone was still in the bedroom. It didn't take to long to explain the situation to Toriel, even though the trio well exceeded the five second time limit. By the time she had learned that Mr. SnuggleLots was still out there, Toriel immediately went to work on dressing the kids up in extra layers, mittens, and scarves.

"What were you doing up this late, Ms. Toriel?" asked Dipper. "If you don't mind me asking, that is."

"I've spent all day looking for something that I cannot seem to find," Toriel answered while fastening a beanie cap onto Frisk. "A videotape. Perhaps one of you three saw it earlier this morning and it's currently in your possession?"

"Nope, sorry" said Dipper.

"I have not," added Frisk, their voice muffled by the scarf.

"Me neither," rounded off Mabel, pulling her scarf down to speak clearly. "Unfortunately all I have with me right now is candy. But I'm happy to share it with the coolest mom to ever walk the earth!"

Toriel was just about to start with Dipper when Mabel said that. Much to the twins' alarm, she started to weep.

Mabel panicked. "W-what did I say?! Oh god is that considered an insult in monster-culture?! I didn't mean it Miss Toriel I swear-!"

"You *sniff* you did *sniff* n-nothing wrong at all sweetheart," reassured Toriel, collecting herself. "It's just been a very lousy day for me it seems..."

Mabel and Frisk seemed at a loss for words.

"Hhhhhow about we put a pin on that for now, Ms Toriel?" Dipper butted in, before attempting to lighten the mood by adding, "Besides, we still need to track down a rogue Teddy bear."

Toriel gave a sad chuckle. "Please... no formalities are necessary. Toriel is... just fine. And yes, if we could save my troubles for later on, that would be great. I'm more concerned about you three pursuing this critter in the bitter cold of midnight winter."

"It's really not that bad-" started Dipper.

"Don't ever argue with the Goat Mom, Dipper," hissed Mabel, getting right in Dipper's face.

"Whoa hey there, personal space please," said Dipper, waving her away.

Toriel nodded. "It doesn't matter to me if winter on the surface is less brutal than winter in the Underground, you three are my responsibility right now, and that means you bundle up."

"Understood Mom," acknowledged Frisk.

"Of course Mis- I mean, Toriel," said Dipper, lifting his arms as Toriel started to apply his scarf.

Mabel suddenly had an idea. "Dipper, I can't believe I'm asking this, but do you think the black journal has anything about Mr. SnuggleLots?"

"It's worth checking," said Dipper, his voice muffled as well, now that the scarf was on. He pulled it down gently. "Toriel, if you don't mind, could you hold off on the mittens for a second? This is important."

"Just don't take too long. The further that bear gets, the longer you three have to be out there in the cold," reminded Toriel.

"Again, we've dealt with much worse-"

"Don't argue with Mom/The-Goat-Mother," said Frisk and Mabel at the same time.

"Right, right," said Dipper, grabbing the book and skimming through the pages. "Hmmm... not having much luck here. Maybe this author didn't encounter him. Gravity Falls is a big place-"

"Hang on," said Frisk, putting their hand on Dipper's shoulder. "I think I saw it. A few pages back."

Dipper flipped back a couple of pages, and eventually found a page with a very detailed illustration of Mr. SnuggleLots.

"Wow, dunno how I missed that," said an embarrassed Dipper.

"It's because you were rambling again!" teased Mabel, waving her arms from side to side. "Ramble ramble ramble!"

"Oh knock it off, Mabel. Thanks for catching that, Frisk," said Dipper, Frisk smiling in response. "Alright, lets see what we have here."

the nocturnal teddy bear

this peculiar stuffed animal holds a dark and not-that-deadly secret. every night, from sundown to sunrise, this bear comes to life and prowls the streets if it is without an owner. despite being a bear, not all of its behavior matches that of an average grizzly bear, so as far as advantages and weaknesses go, it is hard to pinpoint what works with this creature and what doesn't. one thing is for certain though: its diet is solely fabric. bed sheets, clothes, boxers, this bear will tear through it all until it is nice and full. once it is satisfied, it refrains from eating. if you are tracking down a starving nocturnal teddy bear, be wary or well armed. Or, bring along an outfit that you wouldn't mind if it got eaten. that is heavily ill advised, though.

An awkward silence befell the group as they all looked to each other and the new layers that Toriel had just finished putting on them.

"That certainly would have been nice to know beforehand," said Toriel, pinching the bridge of her snout.

"Sorry..." said Dipper sheepishly.

"But on the bright side," Mabel pointed out, "the book mentions nothing about a taste for human flesh! Just fabric! Which means we won't die!"

"Yeah, sure. Instead, we all will run the risk of committing public indecency," said Dipper, his winter coat's hood casting a shadow over his eyes. "I honestly would prefer death."

"It's not like anybody would see you this late at night," said Mabel, deadpanning.

"I will make sure to look away if such an event happens to you," Toriel promised Dipper.

"You'd probably die of Hypothermia before the embarrassment set in, Dipper," Frisk was polite to add.

"Let's just make sure it doesn't happen, okay?!" Dipper yelled.

"WAIT!!!" Mabel suddenly shrieked, an entire Christmas tree's worth of lights going off in her head. "I know how we can arm ourselves! We have to be suuuuuuuuuuuuper quiet though~"

It took a few seconds to leave the bedroom, Frisk having decided to bring their backpack with them before setting out, but soon afterwards, the trio and Toriel were standing in front of...

"The attic?" said Dipper incredulously, as he walked up to the attic entrance. "Why do we need to be quiet here? That's where Sans sleeps! We could kill a goat in there and it wouldn't wake him up!"

Hearing no response, Dipper turned around to see a Mabel who looked ready to punch him, a Frisk who looked beyond upset, and a Toriel that- oh.

"Shoot, I'm sorry," said Dipper to Toriel who looked downright uncomfortable. "I meant like, you know- we could make... an equivalent to that much noise... and Sans wouldn't... wake up."

"Let's just put a pin on it, like you suggested before," said Toriel. "Now please open the door so we can move on from this awkward situation."

"Right."

Click!

Creeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaak.

Slowly, silently, all three children slunk into the attic, stepping onto the creaky floor. If Sans caught them, it would take forever to explain the situation. Mabel worried that she'd be even further away from Mr. SnuggleLots. Frisk worried about having to explain why Toriel was with them. Dipper worried about Sans growing suspicious from all the snooping that Dipper had been trying to do on him.

Except, there was no Sans. Instead, there was a simple note on the window seat that read "be back later."

All three children groaned at how pointless all of that super awesome stealth turned out to be.

"He's not even here??? Then where is he?!" said Dipper, exasperated. "Frisk, is this disappearing act common for Sans?"

"Only during the daytime..." said Frisk, scratching their head in confusion while also adjusting the straps on their backpack. "I don't think I've ever seen him vanish at night though. Though to be fair, he never let me into his bedroom when I was in the underground..."

"You were snooping around in Sans's bedroom???"

"No. I just said that he never let me in. How could I possibly snoop in his room if I'm locked out of it? All jesting aside, yes I tried to do that. I failed miserably though."

"Well at any rate," said Dipper, eyes narrowing. "This skeleton is not helping his case. Everything he does only makes me grow more and more suspicious of him."

"Suspicious of what?" asked Toriel, approaching Dipper and Frisk.

Shoot... Should I tell her? Dipper cursed internally. She's a good friend of his, isn't she? And it's not like I have any concrete evidence of Sans being the time anomaly that the author is talking about... Think of something else, Dipper! Say something! Anything!!!

"Suspicious of him stealing your videotape," Dipper went with.

Toriel looked absolutely horror-stricken. "He did what?"

Whoa, that was not the reaction that Dipper was anticipating. He was ready to defend his lie, but she just went with it? How important was this videotape to her?? What was on it???

"I haven't found any evidence yet!" Dipper backpedaled. "I-it's just a hypothesis! I don't want to be right about it, believe me!"

Toriel did her best to calm down. "I certainly hope that that tape wasn't stolen in the first place. If it was, I... I don't know how I'd be able to handle it."

Dipper and Frisk gulped. The air in the room had gotten quite stagnated. If someone really had stolen it, Dipper had just basically sentenced him or her to death. So now, Dipper could be arrested tonight for arbitrarily committing public indecency or incitement. Hooraaaaaaaaay....

"Guess that's one obstacle out of the way!" said Mabel, her voice immediately vaporizing the suspense that she was oblivious to. She waltzed over to the stained glass window and opened it, paying no mind to the noise it made. Immediately the quartet was overcome by the intense chill of winter at midnight. Finally the kids saw the value of the extra clothes provided by Toriel.

"Now for the tough part..." shivered Mabel.

The kids climbed out of the window and onto the roof, all three bracing the cold current. One by one, the Mystery Trio tip toed along the roof.

"Still don't understand why we didn't just use the ladder from the gift shop," griped Dipper, a burst of wind making him shiver.

"We'd be climbing down those noisy stairs. We'd risk Undyne waking up," said Mabel. "I doubt you're eager to know what she's like if she's rudely woken up."

"Just to enlighten you," began Frisk, "she begins every day by chucking a spear at her alarm clock. She has an entire closet dedicated to alarm clocks because of all the ones she breaks. Now, imagine her mistaking you for an alarm clock because you woke her up-"

"I would rather not imagine something so horrifying while also balancing on a roof and enduring the bitter cold," said a trembling Dipper. "I get it. Ladder was a bad idea. Let's keep moving."

A few more minutes of sneaking, and they reached their destination: Wendy's platform. There, sleeping soundly, was Papyrus, with his newly knitted, and extremely long, "spaghetti scarf" draped around his shoulders.

Mabel looked to Dipper. Then she looked to Frisk. She put two fingers closed together in the air, waited three seconds, then pointed them to Papyrus and whispered, "Go!"

Dipper and Frisk fanned out, each approaching the opposite side of Papyrus. They gripped the scarf, and gently lifted it up and over. The scarf was now hovering in front of the sleeping skeleton, being held tight by the smiling Dipper and Frisk.

"Mission accomplished!" whisper-screamed Mabel.

It was at that moment that one little roof shingle had decided that it couldn't handle having Dipper's foot on top of it any longer.

CHHHRK!

Dipper slipped backwards, yanking the scarf. Frisk, who was still holding it, felt themself jolted forward, unable to keep themself from slamming into the panicking Pines brother. Dipper tried to right himself, but (surprise!) only managed to trip on the long scarf, making him fall backwards even further, Frisk lurching further forward as they were too riled up to remember to let go of the doggone scarf. This time, the delirious duo collided heads, resulting in an unceremonious CONK! as the blasted scarf continued to entangle them. Frisk and Dipper became a ball of yarn as they teetered off of the roof platform and landed on the snow covered grass with an obnoxious thud.

Everything... hurt.

"Mission... accomplished?" repeated Mabel, worried that Papyrus had been woken up from all of that noise.

"ZzzzzzzzzzzznnnnNNNYEH I WILL MAKE IT INTO THE ROYAL GUUAARRDDDDDDZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz"

"Whew," Mabel sighed before making her way back down to untangle the pair.

But not before taking a photo of the pair sprawled in the snow and entangled in that giant scarf.

"Oh dear, I never expected that he would actually take my advice to heart," Toriel chortled. "An actual spaghetti scarf. I really want to know what goes on in that skeleton's head. It must be fascinating."

With the scarf now acquired, it had been strategically wrapped by Mabel around the already scarfed necks of Dipper, Frisk, and and herself, before setting off into Gravity Falls to hunt down Mr. SnuggleLots. Silhouetted by the moon, the children looked like a paper-people-chain come to life.

Toriel insisted on coming along, not liking the idea of three kids being out at night without a grownup. The trio argued with her a bit, but they were quick to admit defeat when she gave them all a glare that only a mother could perfect.

"I'm shocked we didn't wake Papyrus up," quietly commented Frisk, who was at the front end of the line. "Especially after that humiliating descent."

"Look, I said I was sorry," mumbled Dipper in the middle, rubbing his forehead on instinct.

"It made a fun memory for me too look back on, though!" giggled Mabel from the back as she put her newly developed photo into her scrapbook.

"I'm glad to know that you still find pleasure from my pain," grumbled Dipper.

"Let's try to stay on task here," reminded Toriel, having decided to walk alongside the line rather than behind or in front of it. "So, you three are going to be using this scarf to lure the bear out?"

"In a way, yes" explained Frisk "But for the most part, it's to give Mr. SnuggleLots something to chew on that isn't our clothes."

"Hopefully the guy isn't hungry enough to eat the whole scarf," said Dipper worriedly.

"Yeah, Papyrus would not be happy with us," said Mabel.

"That's not what I'm- okay, that too," conceded Dipper, before turning his head back to the path. "Now then... if I were a hungry Teddy bear... where would I go..."

rustle rustle

There was a rustling of leaves. Immediately, all four heads darted to the source of the sound. Right in front of them were two bushes, shaking up a storm.

"Oooooooooooo!" squeaked Mabel, putting her hands to her cheeks. "Guys, I think maybe we found Mr. SnuggleLots's parents!"

"Everybody be absolutely still..." whispered Frisk.

"Ummmm, guys?" said Dipper as quietly as he could. "Mr. SnuggleLots is in fact a Teddy bear, right? Do Nocturnal Teddy Bears have parents???"

"That's..." said Mabel

"...a good question..." finished Frisk, tensing up.

Was it a pair of Nocturnal Teddy Bears? Gnomes? Goblins?! Eldritch Horrors?!

The rustles got louder.

Louder.

Louder-

"Oink!"

"Yip!"

The sigh of relief was unanimous as the heads of Waddles and the Samoyed popped out of the bushes.

"Waddllleeeeeeees! What are you doing outside this late at night? Get over here, mister!" cooed Mabel, rushing over to Waddles. Having forgotten that she was tied to the scarf, Dipper and Frisk were lurched forward and dragged through the snow by Mabel. She scooped up her prized pig and nuzzled him vigorously, Waddles lapping up the snowflakes on her cheeks. "Were you giving the dog a tour of the town? Were you? You were, weren't you, you cute little... cutie!"

"Oh hey! It's that dog from the mountain!" said Dipper in recognition of the other critter. "......what's his name again?"

"I don't think he has one," Toriel pitched in. "Frisk, you really should consider putting a collar on that puppy or at least giving him a name, what with how frequently I see him."

"This dog cannot be restrained by a collar," said Frisk, suddenly looking at an imaginary sunset. Dipper found it weird. Mabel was captivated. Then the moment was over as quickly as it began. "But I like the idea of giving him a name."

The child suddenly pointed at the white dog, who cocked his head.

"Toby."

"Brrk?"

"Your name is Toby."

"Urf."

"................may I call you Toby?"

"Arf!"

"Toby it is."

In the end, Toby and Waddles started following the group, the head count growing from four to six. And those six were lead on a wild tour of Gravity Falls at night in order to find this furball. If this fiasco was a scripted sequence for some TV show, this would have been the moment when the montage music started playing.

They went to Soos's house, where a groggy Abuelita pointed towards where she saw the bear head off to after it took a chomp out of her sofa. One round of cookies later, the group was back on the trail.

Next was the Valentino Funeral Home, where Greg and Janice spoke about how Mr. SnuggleLots made their night. Not too long ago, one of the buried corpses rose out of the ground as a zombie, only to have the tux it was buried in torn off and devoured by the tiny menace. The zombie was so embarrassed that it sank right back into its coffin and never rose up again. Mabel slipped a spare cookie underneath the door to Robbie's room before returning to the scarf-line and heading out.

The group passed by McGucket's new mansion for a brief moment, unable to enter because of the locked gate barring them from the courtyard. They shrugged and continued past the mansion. Toby and Waddles, who were falling behind, were the only ones who spotted a crow fly over the gate easily, only for the crow to be vaporized by a red laser beam courtesy of the new security features that McGucket had installed in the front yard. Bug-eyed, traumatized, and holding knowledge that no one else will ever learn, Toby and Waddles slowly trotted away from the estate.

The Pines Twins even dared to visit the Tent of Telepathy. They didn't need to get too close though: the tent had holes everywhere. Mr. SnuggleLots had definitely been there. They slowly snuck away, slowly enough for Frisk to spot a poster announcing that the Tent of Telepathy was closed indefinitely. Well, at least nobody was inconvenienced. So why were Dipper and Mabel so spooked about approaching it...?

Each location they visited showed that Mr. SnuggleLots had stopped by. But they just couldn't seem to catch up to him.

"Maybe we should stop by Candy or Grenda's house next!" suggested Mabel.

"Absolutely not," said Dipper. "I understand that you want to get back together with them, but if we do that tonight, there's no way we'll be able to avoid them inviting you for a sleepover. And we have bigger things to worry about."

"I like the sound of a sleepover," admitted Frisk.

"Really???!!!!! Awesome!!!! I'll be sure to let Candy and Grenda know!" squealed Mabel, paying no attention to Dipper who was frantically waving his hands at Frisk and begging them to not be enticed by a sleepover with Mabel's friend group.

"Focus, children," said Toriel with a gentle huff. "I understand the want to socialize, but I would prefer to relocate this bear as quickly as possible. I need to be back at the shack before sunrise. I'm sure that tape is somewhere I haven't checked yet. Perhaps I'll check the lab next..."

Dipper's curiosity had finally had enough. He leaned forward to whisper to Frisk. "Frisk, do you have any idea what's up with your mom? She's usually so calm and down to earth, but tonight... I dunno, she just seems especially stressed. Just what is on that videotape that she's searching for so feverishly?"

"I understand your concern, and I wish I could answer your questions immediately," Frisk whispered back. "However, I would prefer that we wait until we have retrieved the Nocturnal Teddy Bear before we discuss this any further. It is rather personal."

"Well okay..." said Dipper, looking down to the snow covered ground. "I honestly don't know how much longer I can go looking for this bear's whereabouts though-"

That's when he saw it. Paw prints. Specifically, prints of paws that looked patched-on. And they lead up to...

This way to the Corduroy Cabin. Follow the signs.

A sign that gave directions to Wendy's house? But why would the paw prints lead to...

Wait...

Dipper called to the group. "Do you think Mr. SnuggleLots knows English? All this time, I assumed he didn't, based on our initial encounter."

"Maybe he was just too hungry to listen?" suggested Mabel.

Frisk nodded. "Why do you ask, Dipper?"

"Okay... this may sound extreme to everyone but Mabel. But I think Mr. SnuggleLots understands English enough to read it... and he mistook Wendy's family's home for a Fabric store."

Mabel, Frisk, and Toriel all looked to the sign that Dipper was gesturing at.

Then to the fresh trail of paw prints seemed to be doing exactly what the sign had suggested.

"FOLLOW THAT TRAIL!" announced Mabel.

"Hush!" hissed Toriel. "The town is asleep!"

"Oop, sorry Goat Mom," said Mabel meekly, before whispering, "Follow that trail!"

They had hit the jackpot. By following the signs (and the paw prints in the snow), the trio, the pets, and Toriel had managed to locate the cabin that housed Wendy and her testosterone-buzzed brothers and dad.

The first sign of trouble was that the lights were on. The second was that the sounds of war cries and glass shattering could be heard all the way from the house to where the group was standing. The third was that the front door had been jerked open, and a bewildered Wendy Corduroy was sprinting towards them, kicking up snow everywhere.

"We can explain-" started Dipper.

"Oh my god I couldn't care less about the explanation right now-" growled Wendy, her voice having an especially ragged quality to it. Dipper didn't have a lot of time to ponder that though as suddenly the redhead had an iron grip on both of his shoulders and was staring right through him with baggy eyelids and bloodshot eyes.

"Oh dear..." said Toriel in the back, Mabel and Frisk cringing as well. It appeared that all three of them had just put together why Wendy had been so drowsy lately.

Wendy croaked, "Every December, my family gets more and more fired up about the New Year, and it results in them screaming throughout the night. It does not help that Gravity Falls has its own New Year that ignores the yearly calendar. Long story short, I haven't slept in six days you guys."

A gasp was shared by all who were capable of doing so.

"And that- that- that toy freak in there???" continued the delirious Wendy, raising a trembling hand and pointing behind her to her home. "NOT HELPING MATTERS!"

"I am so sorry that you've had to deal with this," said Toriel. "I promise you, that bear will be out of your home before sunrise."

"Oh jeez, is that you, Toriel?" said Wendy, her vision finally clearing from the tired rage. Her cheeks flushed with massive embarrassment and she scratched the back of her head. "Did- did I just shout right in your face? I am so sorry, I didn't... mmm- mmmmmean to..." Wendy suddenly arched back and gave a massive yawn. The three children winced, realizing how tired she must have been for the past few days.

"You've been deprived of sleep. It's more than understandable that you would be cranky," said Toriel gently.

"I dunno if we'll be able to help with Wendy's personal conundrum," pondered Frisk.

"We can try to, once we have Mr. SnuggleLots back!" said Mabel proudly, before suddenly shrinking and asking nervously. "How um... how is your family dealing with his intrusion?"

"Meh, the same way they handle any other bear that invades our property," explained Wendy. "With violence. And probably rifles."

The change in Mabel's velocity was so intense that the scarf was torn in two as she charged towards the house, howling with worry.

"Wait," said Wendy, suddenly noticing the scarf. "Is that Papyrus's-"

"Explanation afterwords, right?!" said Dipper, frantically taking the scarf off of Frisk so he could don the other half of the scarf by himself. "Come on Frisk, we need to catch her before she rips someone's ear off!"

"Affirmative!" nodded Frisk, following Dipper as he sprinted toward the cabin, leaving Wendy and Toriel out in the snow.

An awkward silence befell on the two of them.

"Um.............. Aren't you going to follow them?" asked Toriel.

Much to Toriel's alarm, Wendy let out a snore.

"OH MY GOODNESS! WENDY YOU CAN'T FALL ASLEEP OUT HERE, YOU'LL FREEZE!!!"

In a panic, Toriel hoisted Wendy up. With the pets following close behind, Toriel quickly carried Wendy back into the noisy, but warm, cabin.

Two figures, polar opposites of each other, were in a current face off. On one side of the room was a small animal, covered in soft fur, trembling with fear. On the other side of the room was a big animal, strapped in lumberjack work clothes, covered in red hair on his head, face, arms, and chest. He was trembling with anger and testosterone.

....aaaaaaaand a little bit of fear, to be honest.

Mr. Manly Dan wiped the sweat from his brow, regaining his focus. He had finally managed to trap the little furry menace in a corner of the living room, its plum fur not doing much to camouflage it amongst the red plaid wallpaper.

"You took a bite out of Marcus's hat, Kevin's shorts, and Gus's shirt... and then... you went for my underwear."

Mr. SnuggleLots only growled in return.

"Them's fighting words..." snarled Manly Dan. "So be it! BY MY HAND, YOU SHALL LEARN OF WHAT YOUR OWN BLOOD TASTES LIKE!"

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!"

Everything that followed happened in a manner of seconds.

Dan shouted in alarm as Mabel lunged onto his back and covered his eyes. The gorilla of a man flailed about wildly, making the trio of boys duck to avoid getting smacked by his meaty arms. Mr. SnuggleLots took the chance to dart out of the corner, only for Frisk to block his path. In the hallway, few feet behind Frisk, was Dipper, ready to face against Mr. SnuggleLots if he managed to get past Frisk.

Mabel and Dan continued to spin around the living room, Marcus, Gus, and Kevin all trying their best to stay away. From the entrance way appeared Toby, Waddles, and Toriel, still carrying Wendy. Toby was immediately intrigued by the space and climbed atop of the stairway rail, climbing all the way to the top of the first row of stairs to get a good vantage point. Waddles went the opposite way, hugging himself against the wall comfortably. Toriel spotted the dining room and quickly sat Wendy down in a seat at the dining room table. With all the noise going on, Wendy was soon roused from her sleep.

Mr. SnuggleLots managed to dart under Frisk's legs and latch his teeth onto their backpack. Frisk yelped, which alerted Marcus to the bear. Giving a battle cry, Marcus charged towards the bear, wrestling the back pack off of Frisk, which only made the poor child fall flat on their face. Seeing this, Mabel finally let go of Dan and ran over to the fallen child. Meanwhile, Marcus began to spin the bag around. Mr. SnuggleLots, remembering what happened last time he was spun around, let go before the momentum could grow too much. The backpack was flung in a random direction, hitting the (thankfully unlit) fireplace. With Marcus dizzy, Mr. SnuggleLots was free to escape, bolting for the hallway. Dipper, noticing the Teddy bear heading his way, readied himself. He grew a massive scowl and held the spaghetti scarf like a muleta. But in all his preparation to look threatening, Dipper forgot to remove the scarf from his neck.

Dan regained his balance with the help of Kevin and Gus, and headed outside with a growl to get some shears from the tool shed. Waddles entered the living room and spotted the now abandoned backpack near the fireplace. Toriel approached Dipper and the bear, while Toby climbed the second row of stairs out of three and gave himself a bigger vantage point- not that he was actively seeking it out- just as Mr. SnuggleLots lurched forward, bit the end of Dipper's half of the spaghetti scarf, and kept running.

Frisk, Mabel, Toriel, and Wendy watched in alarm as Dipper was yanked backwards and dragged behind Mr. SnuggleLots, who took off with the scarf still in his mouth.

-Toriel charges forward to save Dipper but just missed her mark, falling down on the floor and having right herself back up into a sitting position, leaning against the fridge in the kitchen adjacent to the hallway. Dipper was further dragged, following Mr. SnuggleLots into the bathroom at the end of the hallway. Frisk, Mabel, and Wendy collectively panicked and raced toward the bathroom. Mabel outran both of the others, Frisk making sure their mom was okay, and Wendy spotting that the boys had head into their bedroom to search for a bear trap to ensnare Mr. SnuggleLots with.

Soon after the bear had entered the bathroom, Mr. SnuggleLots started freaking out because the space was a lot smaller. He darted around the bathroom, throwing Dipper against the sink, the toilet, and the bathtub, which was when the bear finally let go of the half eaten scarf in his panic, Dipper getting shot-putted into the bathtub. Dipper spent the next few seconds just sitting there, dazed enough to not even bother righting his lopsided cap.

Mabel barged into the bathroom.

"Hey Mr. SnuggleLots! Look what I have for ya!"

Mabel waved the other half of the spaghetti scarf in her attempt to lure the bear away from Dipper and out of the bathroom. Mr. SnuggleLots took the bait, and Mabel calmly dragged him out of the bathroom. Dipper finally stopped seeing stars, and gripped his head as the headache set in. Wendy had just finished convincing the boys why a bear trap would be more danger than its worth, as Mabel passed by the bedroom doorway. Wendy realized Dipper was still in the bathroom and head over there to check on him. The boys shrugged and left the bedroom.

Waddles had been spending all this time rummaging through Frisk's backpack, unbothered by anybody. By that time, Dan returned with the shears, noticed the pig, considered dinner, but then remembered that the pig is Mabel's pet and thought against it, not wanting to be attacked by her again. He entered the hallway, ready to tear that bear into ribbons with the shears. At that point nearly everyone else was in the hallway, which meant that Frisk and Mabel got a perfect view of the rusty shears that Dan was holding. They both gasp, Mabel's shock giving her hand enough slack for Mr. SnuggleLots to snatch the scarf out of Mabel's hand and eat it happily, the rest of the Corduroys surrounding him cautiously while Dan was forced into a heated discussion spearheaded by Frisk and Mabel as to why the bear shouldn't be harmed. It was at this point that Toby spotted Waddles, who was still playing around with Frisk's backpack.

Toby leapt onto Mabel's head, then Frisk's, then lunged at Dan's face, hitting him with enough force that he dropped the shears and tilted backwards, falling down on the floor with a thud. Frisk quickly grabbed the shears and put them on the kitchen counter, away from Dan. Toriel followed Frisk as they left the kitchen to return to Mabel and Dan. Toby finally leapt off of Dan and bolted for the back pack, the pets now in a tug of war. Wendy and Dipper exited the bathroom, encountering the boys and the bear. The bear, who was still surrounded, payed no mind and finished eating Mabel's portion of the scarf, swallowing it, and looking very much stuffed. He gave everyone a very cute smile, and Mabel noticed he was finally acting like a Teddy bear. It made no attempts to bolt.

That's when the bear was grabbed by the throat, and lifted from the ground by a meaty hand. It was Dan, who had gotten back up. "Got you!"

There was the sound of something ripping.

For a second, a collective panic swarmed through the group, worried that Mr. SnuggleLots had torn himself open in his attempt to get out of Dan's grip. But he was fine and unharmed.

The group turned to look at Toby and Waddles, who had gone silent. The backpack had been ripped open, its contents flying through the air like candy from a pinata. One giant object, rectangular in shape, caught the eyes of Toriel and Frisk. It hit the floor hard enough to bounce and spin like a hamster wheel, before sliding on the floor and skidding to a halt at Toriel's feet.

There, lying motionless on the wooden floor, was a videotape.

With ear-ringing silence, Toriel reached down and picked up the tape. She flipped it to the front, and read the title that was written on it in faded crayon. She read it a second time. A third time.

"Frisk Dreemurr..." said Toriel with a disturbingly calm voice. "What was this tape doing in your bag? Did you put it in there?"

"M-Mom I-"

"Just answer the question," snapped Toriel. "Were you the one who put this videotape in your bag? Yes or no?"

"Yes..."

"Did you do so, knowing that I was looking for it?"

"......."

"Frisk."

"Yes... Yes Mother, I did."

The room was silent.

"...I am disappointed in you, Frisk. Severely disappointed. Not to mention angry. You should not steal anything, from anyone, period. But to think that you would deliberately try and hide this videotape from me..."

Toriel caught herself, realizing she was slipping. She breathed in.........she breathed out. In........... and out.

Suddenly, a hand was gently wrapped around Toriel's shoulder. It belonged to Wendy.

"Listen um... My bedroom, it... it has a TV and VCR. I know it might be a little odd but... you've clearly spent all day and night looking for this tape and wanting to watch whatever is on it. So... why don't you go on up to my room and watch it? It'll... give you and the rest of us some time to mull things over."

Toriel looked ready to argue, but after a tense couple of seconds, she sighed and deflated. "Some solitude would do me well right now, I suppose..."

She took Wendy's hand in her paws in a silent display of gratitude before letting go, picking up the videotape once again and heading for the staircase. She paused after climbing the first step. The room went quiet again.

"You are by no means off the hook, little one. We will talk once this is all over."

"Yes, Mother."

Then, she climbed up the stairs, vanishing from everyone's line of sight.

Dipper fidgeted with his hands. We was never good at handling the pressure of only being a bystander during a very tense encounter.

Wendy let out a deep sigh, no doubt wishing that this night wasn't so... eventful.

Mabel looked to Frisk with worry. Their hair was casting a shadow over their eyes, and their hands were hanging loosely at their side. Mabel frowned, wanting to help, but not knowing how to. She thought back to when she was younger, when Dipper would come home crying because the bullies at the park found him again, how all she had to do was invite him to her Teddy bear tea party as a guest...

...!

Just as Mabel had begun to come to a realization, Mr. SnuggleLots had gotten sick and tired of being held by the neck so firmly.

CHOMP!

"YYYYYYOW!!!" hollered Dan, letting go of the bear to waggle his hand and stave off the pain from having his index finger being bitten into by a bear cub. "Noooooooo come on! I finally had him! BOYS! GET HI-"

Mabel spoke without thinking. "MR. SNUGGLELOTS, I TOLD YOU TO BRING A BIB WITH YOU TO THE TEA PARTY! WHERE IS IT?!"

Everyone, Teddy bear included, froze in their tracks. Mr. SnuggleLots looked up to Mabel, his cute beady eyes expressing pure, non-artificial confusion.

"Rule number five hundred and sixty eight of Mabel's Rehabiliteddy Program™!" barked Mabel, pointing at the stupefied stuffed animal. "Any and all critters that are invited to partake in Mabel's Complimentary Tea Party must bring their own bib! To forget one is poor hospitality! What do you have to say for yourself!?"

At the bear's obvious silence, Mabel looked to the others for support, hands outward in an utter display of 'Just play along!!!'

Frisk was silent, but their head lifted up slightly. They appeared to be curious.

As the Corduroys whispered to each other, Dipper walked right up to Mabel.

"You agree, don't you bro???" said Mabel, jokingly - but also rather forcefully and painfully - elbowing her brother in the side.

"Owwwww..." groaned Dipper, rubbing the spot that got jabbed. "Mabel, are you seriously trying to have a tea party with a bear that only eats sheets and clothing? Furthermore, you're trying to convince Wendy's family to host this tea party?? Are you out of your mind???"

"Just hear me out," said Mabel, whispering in Dipper's ear. "I just remembered that point where you suggested that Mr. SnuggleLots might be able to read, and I thought 'heh, well that doesn't seem very bearish of him!' and then, the clouds parted."

"Mabel, what are you talking about." said Dipper flatly.

"All this time, we've been treating this Teddy bear as, well, a regular bear. And I think we just assumed that that was typical behavior for him. But look at him now!"

The kids glanced over to Mr. SnuggleLots. He was sucking on his paw and looking around the room with interest.

"Doesn't he seem a lot more Teddy bearish to you???" concluded Mabel.

"Huh.... yeah, I think I see what you're getting at," said Dipper, starting to follow Mabel's train of thought. "You think we should approach him as the Teddy bear he is, and have a tea party with him. Am I on the right track here?"

"Right track, right train, right everything!" said Mabel, proudly patting Dipper on the back. Dipper smiled without realizing it.

He quickly regained his focus. "But even if that's the case, there's no way that Daniel Corduroy, the same Daniel Corduroy that snapped a tree in half by punching it, is going to let you host a tea party inside his h-"

"So what're you kids thinking?" boomed Manly Dan, stepping in the middle of the discussion. "Chamomile or Oolong?"

The twins looked up to see that in his hands were two different boxes of tea flavors.

"Huh....?" said Dipper in a stupor.

"You got any Candyleaf?" replied Mabel.

"BOYS!" shouted Dan to Marcus, Kevin, and Gus, all three in the living room. "GET TO THE CONVENIENCE STORE AND GET YOUR DAD SOME CANDYLEAF TEA! BE BACK IN TEN MINUTES, OR NONE OF YOU ARE ALLOWED TO GO OUT HUNTING TOMORROW!"

"YES DAD!" screamed the boys in unison, scrambling out the door.

"Huh?!" said Dipper.

"Hey Dipper Kid," boomed Manly Dan, getting up in Dipper's face. "You still haven't told me what you want."

"I- I don't-"

"Whaddya mean you don't?! You don't drink tea?! Well young man, in this house, you don't get to abstain from drinking tea! Now pick a flavor, or I'll pick one FOR YOU, AND I'LL MAKE IT AS SCALDING AND AS TASTELESS AS POSSIBLE!!! YOU DON'T WANT THAT, DO YOU?!"

"Just pick one, Dipper," said Mabel, putting her hand on her brother's shoulder.

"Ummmm..." mulled Dipper. "Oo-...Oolong...? I guess...?"

"Good choice," said Dan and Mabel together, with Dan adding, "I'll fire up the kettle!"

"Mabel what is happening right now," sputtered Dipper. The poor boy was certain that he was losing his mind.

"I don't know honestly!" said Mabel laughing. "But I like it!"

"We'll talk about it later," said Wendy, walking up to the pair with Frisk close behind her. "Right now, we gotta focus on setting the dining room up for a round of tea."

"Right!" said Mabel enthusiastically.

"Dipper, Frisk, you're helping out too," instructed Wendy.

"Of course," said Dipper and Frisk with a nod.

NEXT (Coming soon to the Mystery Shack!)

PART 1

PART 3

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

ONCE UPON A TIME...

TABLE OF CONTENTS

#so #this got longer than I meant for it to get #so expect part 3 in just a few minutes!#gravity falls #undertale #underfalls #gravitytale

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