#sp angst | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

brook1yn-baby · 10 months

Text

home

kenjorine band au oneshot <3

characters; kenny mccormick x marjorine stotch

warnings; tooth-rotting fluff teehee

a/n; short lil oneshot bcos i love these silly little guys!!

the brick wall of the alleyway is cold and damp as marj leans her head against it, finger twirled around the cord of a decrepit payphone. she’s lucky it still works, she thinks, before her thoughts are drowned out by the dial tone she’d come to know and love.

crimson dawn’s tour had been a success thus far; 14 sold out shows, with 1 more to go. stan, jimmy, marj and bebe had spent countless nights exploring the cities they’d only be in for a day or so, before they’d be back on the bus, travelling to the next to do it all over again. it was incredible, and she’d seen more of america than she thought she’d ever see in her life in just the space of two weeks. the band had been a silly pastime for her a year ago. an escape from her parents and their sheltered household. now, playing to crowds of thousands of fans every night, she’s sure nothing can feel as perfect as this.

well, except, maybe..

“marj.”

his voice is quiet, and she almost doesn’t hear it over the sound of the bustling nighttime streets of phoenix. she holds in a squeal of happiness. “hiya, ken!”

she can hear him chuckle from the other side of the phone, then sigh. it’s not a frustrated sigh, or a fed-up sigh- those, she was used to hearing, especially from her parents. this was a sigh of comfort, like a weight’s been lifted from kenny’s shoulders.

he’d never been a religious man, though his family were. promises of eternal happiness and a loving god with a ‘plan’ seemed so far from reality. but, after every show, when the phone rings and he hears her sweet, sweet voice, he could fall to his knees and pray, thank whatever divine being brought her to him.

“how was the show?” it’s a simple question, and he asks it every night without fail. he makes sure she’s okay after the bad ones, and congratulates her after the good ones, and always, always tells her how proud he is of her. kenny had left crimson dawn to work with his brother at the auto shop, hoping to save up some money to put karen through college further down the line. marjorine was still butters back then. music wasn’t kenny’s biggest passion anyway. that spot was saved for his sister and now, also, marj. the only people in the world he’d die a hundred times over for.

“so much fun. our next one’s gonna be the best we’ve ever done, though. pinky promise.” she giggles into the receiver. stan had made sure that south park was their last stop on the tour, meaning tomorrow she’d be home. maybe not her actual house; she’d been living in bebe’s spare room since she told her parents she didn’t wanna go to college. no, home. with kenny. she swears she can hear his grin through the phone.

“do i get a backstage pass? yknow, since i’m a groupie.” she laughs and it’s loud and real and it feels so good to be joking around, to forget about how difficult it is being away from him. “aw ken, of course you do! i wouldn’t exactly call you a groupie, though,”

“my girlfriend is a fuckin’ gorgeous, talented rockstar. i wear the word groupie like a badge of honour, babe.”

marj looks out to the street as she hears the backstage door open, watching jimmy lean against the handrail of the stairs while stan and bebe use his crutches as swords, doubling over, laughing their asses off. they’re all red in the face, still sweating from the show, but they’re having the time of their lives, and so is she. admiring the people she’s been through her worst and best times with as they act like completely loveable idiots. it’s bittersweet; she wishes kenny was there to watch too.

she’s silent for a moment, listening to his soft, rhythmic breathing, dulled slightly by the static of the old phone. “geez, ken, i miss you,” it comes out cracked and quiet, and she doesn’t even realise there’s a tear rolling down her cheek until it brushes her lip. she wipes it away, pretending it’s his hand instead of her own. “one more night, babe. then i’m all yours.” marj lets out a sniffly laugh, even though she knows his words aren’t true. it didn’t matter whether she was in his arms, or in the depths of hell; wherever they ended up, he’d always be all hers.

32 notes · View notes

stvnmvrsh · 11 months

Text

sacrifice (eat me up) - enhypen

Colona was even more beautiful at night than in the day Stan thought. The hot sun faded, the busy crowd thinned, and the loud voices of people silenced. All was still in the night, except for Stan, who had just run out of his family's two-story Tudor house. He had just gotten into another fistfight with his sister, Shelly.

Ignoring his mother's piercing shrieks for him to come back, Stan picked up his pace. He ran as fast as his little ten-year-old legs carried him. Not daring to look back, he let his feet slap the ground and push him out of the town gates, over the train tracks, and deep into the pastures. His lungs were on fire. Chest heaving, he wondered if he could stay at Kenny's little cottage, but decided against it as he didn't want Mr. and Mrs. McCormick to telephone his mother and father. Plus, he didn't want to disturb him or his siblings.

He passed up Kenny's house and trudged into the woods. He wasn't afraid to enter the eerie grounds, he's hunted with his uncle plenty. As his boots crunched the unpaved floor, he watched as the fireflies' danced around aimlessly. Soft, yellow, and full of life. Pushing past the trees, he traced their thick trunks. After he felt like his legs could fall off, he sat on a flat boulder. He paid no mind to the cold rock underneath his bottom. He closed his eyes and listened to the chirping of crickets, breathing in the wood's distinctive scent. Stan's face drew into a content smile, happy to find a place he could finally relax.

His smile fizzled out when he remembered he had to go home eventually. He looked back towards the city and remembered his sister's cruel fist. He tugged his collar out to peer into his shirt, already seeing the familiar mottled red color forming on his stomach. He didn't want to face his family quite yet. He concluded if he was going to get scolded, he might as well stay out the whole night. Decision made, he weaved his way into the depths of the evergreens.

He took his time, listening to the sounds of insects flitting around. Just as he's about to turn around, his eyes zero in on a small clearing in the middle of thick foliage. It was easy to miss if you weren't looking for it, just big enough for a person to slip into.

He heard his uncle Jimbo's voice in his head; "Best not to venture o'er there, Stanley. I've heard bad rumors. Not worth your own life, so I never bothered."

But Stan was curious then, just as he is now. He straightened the navy blue newsboy hat atop his head and walked straight through. Puzzled but cautious, he keeps his footsteps as light as he can. As he progressed, his surroundings slowly evolved. Inhaling deeply, the musky smell of leaves withered away and was replaced by a rich pine aroma. The earthen turf turned into fine Indian ricegrass. What once was barren was colorful and flowery shrubbery, their perfume potent and sweet. Large boulders and rocks are now stone statues, tall as pillars. Delicate and airy bluebells, columbine, and arrowleaf littering the area are a welcome sight. What could be so dangerous here?

Around three miles in, that's when Stan sees it. He follows a stepstone path of Venitian grey sandstone to a dip in the valley. An impressive deep royal blue Victorian Eastlake estate stood compellingly. Thick pine trees, a large, calm lake, and neatly trimmed hedges surrounded the area. A small greenhouse to the far left housed various herbs and flowers, so plentiful and lush. There was a quaint, yet enviable vegetable garden. Stan was beyond belief. He'd never seen anything more marvelous in his life. Everything was so breathtaking, it didn't make sense to have it all hidden away.

"What are you doing here?"

Stan just about pissed his trousers. The stranger's eyes were as startling as his entrance. Beguiling poison apple green eyes asses him with interest.

"I was just walking around and I stumbled onto this place. I didn't know this was private property, I'll take my leave now!" Stan blurted out hurriedly, not wanting to cause another problem. Ready to back away, he was stopped by a firm grasp on his forearm. This stranger was ice cold. He was released as quickly as he was caught, as if the stranger realized how offputting the action was.

"A little rude to be upon a stranger's house and not introduce yourself, don't you think? What's your name?" the boy asked with his head cocked to the side, indifferent to Stan's fear.

Unsuredly, he humored him. "Name's Stanley Marsh, but you can call me Stan."

"Hello, Stan. My name is Kyle." He extended a hand out, his milky skin almost looked like it was glittering in the moon's light. He smiled secretively like he knew something Stan didn't. He took his own sweaty palm and shook his frigid hand in greeting.

"Do you know how to play chess, Stan?"

He was still wary, but time and time again, his curiosity peaked. He just knew Kyle would be delighted to entertain him.

"A little."

"Come. Play with me." He waved his hand over to a stone picnic table nearby, a chessboard atop it.

While making their way to the table, Stan used the opportunity to study Kyle. His hair was shiny, his curly blood-orange hair peeking out of a rabbit fur ushanka. His nose was strong, like an eagle's. A juniper-colored suit jacket atop a starched white button-up was paired with short trousers. Stan grew shy as he saw Kyle's head turn back towards him. He looked really pretty.

After they were seated, Kyle let him pick between the black and white pieces. Stan flipped the board so that the white pieces were facing him.

"Care to wager? Whoever wins this game gets to ask all the questions they would like. Are you in?" Kyle grins at his queen in between his thumb and pointer, admiring the piece.

"And how do I know you won't lie to me?" Stan asks, pulling his woolen jacket across himself tighter as the breeze picked up slightly.

"Trust me." Stan waited for any malicious intentions to make themselves known, but he sensed nothing. Still, he felt like Kyle was trying to convey another message.

"You're on."

White knight moves to f3, attacking the black pawn on e5.

Kyle smirks and moves his pawn to d6 and captures Stan's knight. Stan allows his poker face to remain as he threatens Kyle's king on g8 by moving his queen to h5.

Stan sneaks a glance across the table.

There!

Stan sees his opening as Kyle is flustered, and escapes check by moving his king to g6. Stan finishes the game, checking the king with his queen to g6.

"Checkmate!" Stan exclaimed, victorious.

Kyle was only momentarily stunned, recovering quickly from his defeat as he smiled toothily at Stan.

Huh?

"Hey, Kyle?"

"Yes?"

"Your teeth are-" Stan didn't bother to finish his sentence. He couldn't stop his blood from pumping erratically at the sight of Kyle's fluorescent stare. Feeling like the very prey he hunted with his uncle, his hands were pressed against the cement bench, ready to jump up and run. This time, away from him.

"Don't tell me someone as clever as you do not know."

Kyle parted his mouth further, and there was no denying it. Seemingly out of nowhere, his short canines elongated past his plush bottom lip. Bone-colored, they looked to be needle-sharp and nearly fragile. Stan was almost scared they were going to puncture straight through Kyle's flawless skin.

Stan groaned internally. Of course, he would be worried about the supposed monster and not his own well-being!

"Are you going to kill me now?" Stan hated that his voice sounded so pathetic.

"No."

Stan clenched his jaw, growing irritated. "What are you playing at?"

"I thought we were friends." Kyle tilted his head, honestly perplexed.

"Like hell! We can't be friends! You're a-"

"Vampire?" His fingers drummed the table, but his gaze never left Stan.

"Yes! Exactly, you said it yourself."

"And why not? I sensed you ever since your feet hit the ground in this domain. I could have killed you without you even knowing. You could have easily run away by now. Yet you're still here, having a civilized conversation with a monster like me. We played chess together. You trusted me. I think that's plenty enough reason to be friends." Kyle fired back.

"Why do you want this so bad?" The question left Stan's mouth before he could stuff it back inside.

There was a tense silence like Kyle was afraid of his question.

"You found me. My father says that those who are worthy can find us. I thought we could be friends."

Kyle, who was self-assured and full of confidence, now couldn't even look at him. He was now focused on the tranquil lake, seemingly miles away. Stan knew it was over for him the minute he felt his guard falter.

"I won."

Kyle's head snapped towards Stan, but he didn't flinch.

"I won, so I get to ask you all the questions I want, remember?" His sapphire orbs took in Kyle's weighty expression.

"You're not leaving?"

"I've decided I want to stay here with my friend." He knew what it was like to be lonely and not have anyone. To be surrounded by people you're supposed to rely on but are unable to. If he could help it, Stan wanted to be there for him.

Stan didn't know if he'd made the right decision, but Kyle laughed. It sounded like Stan was in church with his family, the choir members singing. Kyle's laugh sounded like his favorite song; he never wanted to stop listening. He never knew a vampire could be so angelic.

Stan continued to bombard him with question upon question, Kyle was nearly taken aback by the sheer inquisitiveness he possessed.

"My parents are Gerald and Shiela Broflovski. My adoptive brother's name is Issac, but we just call him Ike. My parents immigrated from Polska to New Netherlands, but my mother wanted to move, thus our living here. My father used ancient magic to make the entrance visible to any living being that had no wish to kill us, people who were worthy of befriending. Before you ask, even though we are who we are, we only consume animal blood."

In the shade of the moon, with the lulling whispers of the cool wind, they revealed their lives on the table. Stan could not comprehend why, but he felt compelled to tell Kyle everything. Never before feeling so seen, he couldn't shut up. His family, his hardships, his pain. Oddly, Kyle reciprocated. He learned about his overbearing mother, his father's high expectations, and the discord between him and his brother.

Kyle's ears twitched, lips pursing. "My mother is calling for me."

Stan followed the direction of his movement, looking towards the house. He could have sworn he saw a woman passing by one of the various elaborate stained glass windows.

"The light will fall upon us soon, you should return home." Kyle held Stan's hand like it was a butterfly on his finger.

"Lest you want to be in deeper trouble." Right. He completely forgot about his dilemma. Scurrying to leave, once again he was stopped.

"I will be here." When he spun around, Kyle was already looking at him, smiling mirthfully.

He's a darling.

Stan didn't know if it was because he was naturally charming, or if it was a side effect of vampirism, but it was working on him.

"I will come back," Stan replied, matching his grin, praying Kyle couldn't hear his heartbeat too loud.

It was well past sunrise, but early enough so that Stan wasn't late to school when he walked back into town. After returning home from school, he was confronted by his parents. He got quite the scolding, his parents forcing him to apologize to Shelly. The only thought that got him through was seeing Kyle again.

After that night, like clockwork, Stan snuck out and returned to the hidden woods every other night. Despite his inner terrors, the Broflovski family welcomed him kindly. Mrs. Broflovski had her reservations as he was human, but once Stan won her over she thought of him as one of her own. They were all delighted that Stan was an open-minded human and accommodated him, having Stan's favorite foods and water around, a prepared bathroom, and even a spot at the dinner table. Dusk turned into twilight, and twilight turned into dawn. The two grew closer and closer, chasing each other through the flowers, retelling stories in Kyle's treehouse, sharing snacks in the kitchen, playing with Ike, it didn't matter. Together they felt a little more whole than they were when apart.

"Can you sing me that song again, Stan?" Kyle requested, wading his toes and sitting at the edge of the shallow end of the lake. Stan, who was dozing off in Kyle's lap, mumbled a small noise of agreement. He cleared his throat a couple of times before inhaling slowly.

"Amazing grace how sweet the sound That saved a wretch like me I once was lost, but now I'm found Was blind but now I see

'Twas grace that taught my heart to fear And grace my fears relieved How precious did that grace appear The hour I first believed"

There were only so many things Kyle experienced throughout his sheltered life. He went game hunting for his own bear, subdued adult humans who wanted to massacre his family, and even braved a blizzard to search for Ike who got swept away as he discovered his flight ability. He doesn't ever recall being serenaded by anyone if you could even call it that. By no means was Stan the perfect singer. His voice, although young, was raspy. It was low and gravelly, almost like he was growling.

Listening to Stan, he had to check if he was floating from how light he felt. His voice is beautiful. Stan is beautiful. He could hear the richness of his tone, it made him wonder if this is what standing in the summer sun felt like. Warm, peaceful, and soothing, like sleeping in his parent's bed when he was a fledgling.

He opened his eyes when he realized Stan had stopped singing.

"You know, for an unalive being, your eyes are so full of life," Stan observed, reaching a hand to rest his fingertips on the right side of Kyle's jaw. Looking into Kyle's eyes made him feel like he was searching through a forest in the springtime. Teeming with bright green color, a breath of wild nature.

"That's very funny, as you who are filled with life energy have a gaze so dull and blank." Kyle retorted.

Stan allowed his hand to drop as he shifted his head in Kyle's lap.

"I feel the most alive when I'm with you."

Kyle froze. If he had a heart, he was sure it would be doing somersaults and cartwheels. His stomach flips at the sincerity in his words. He doesn't know why, but Stan has him in some kind of hold he can't break free from. It's so strange how someone could come stumbling into your life and make you feel so strongly, but Kyle wouldn't change it for anything.

"Thank you. That means quite a lot to me."

Stan could never get tired of Kyle's smile. It filled him with so much happiness, it drove him mad. Makes him think he could spend forever with him.

"Wait for me here," Kyle broke the cushy quiet, perturbed look on his face.

"Something up?" Stan asks, but he receives no answer as Kyle speeds away.

Kyle met his father halfway.

"Son, where is your companion?" Gerald inquires, an edge to his tone.

"Just by the lake. May I ask what this is about?" Kyle holds his arms out from his sides as if he could block him in the open space from getting closer.

"The village is searching the woods for him, he must leave now." The creases on Gerald's forehead deepen as he urges his son.

"The magic is supposed to stop them, I don't see why he has to go. He is safe here with us!"

Gerald knew he was going to meet resistance, but it didn't make it any easier. "This is too dangerous. The woods are supposed to be kept empty to guarantee our safety. The more people there are, the likelihood that someone is able to find the entrance increases. We may not like it, but Stan must leave and never return to prevent another incident like this."

"Pa! What are you saying? I can protect us! I'm ten years old, I'm not a little kid anymore! I don't want Stan to go! He's my best friend, he can't!" Distraught, Kyle didn't want to argue with his father. He grew antsy as he strained his ears to listen to the human crowd.

"Don't be foolish, Kyle. You know how this will end, worst case scenario. Stan gives us up, they find us, and we let them kill us, unless you're prepared to take on a whole town of humans. It is easy to slaughter but impossible to be the same afterward. You would have to kill children, ones even younger than you and Ike. I don't wish it upon you, even more so, us. Do you understand me now?"

"Stan would never do that! Please!" Kyle's eyes pricked with tears, not liking the odds of the outcomes playing through his head.

Behind the trunk of a nearby tree, Stan clamps his hands over his mouth to conceal his shock. Unsatisfied with his question unanswered and concerned for Kyle, he followed as quickly as he could. Thoughts that he should have stayed put were diminished as Sheila appears in front of him. Today her dress was claret satin, her heeled ankle boots white. Her ginger hair was in an immaculate updo, and her makeup was perfectly applied. Somberly she brushes a pine needle off his jacket and straightens the collar of his shirt.

"I don't want to go, Mrs. B." He whispered, face already wet with tears.

"We don't want you to go either, sweetheart." She smothers him in an embrace and flies to the estate. She whisks him into the kitchen where the rest of the Broflovski's were gathered and placed him into a chair.

"Stan!" Kyle engulfs him in a hug, their arms bolting to hold each other. The air was so dense, you'd need a butcher knife to cut through it easily.

"You are aware of what is happening, yes, son?" Gerald's cornflower orbs trained on Stan.

Stan just nods meekly over Kyle's shoulder, not wanting to let go. Ike forces himself in between the two boy's legs and does his best to be included in the hug. Sheila busies herself by rummaging in the cupboards.

"There is one more thing we need to do before you leave us tonight." Gerald continues, locking eyes with his wife. Sheila presents what she was searching for in the cupboards. She opened the dropper cap of a black glass bottle no bigger than her pointer finger.

"This is water from the Lethe."

Stan could feel the Broflovski brothers clutching him so tight, he almost couldn't breathe.

"Lethe, Greek meaning "oblivion". The Lethe, the river of forgetfulness. One drop can erase your most recent memories. One mouthful erases your whole life."

The bottle absolutely horrified every being in the house.

"Why, father?" Enchanting and fetching Kyle was no more. He was arctic, intransigent.

Releasing Stan and Ike, he stepped before them. Once again, his arms spread wide, as if to shield them.

"We don't have to do this, do we?" Kyle faced his father, chin tucked in, eyes blazing verdant.

"We don't have a choice, Kyle!" Gerald finally lost his composure.

"You think I take pleasure in this? I didn't think I would ever, in my existence, have to do this! We are monstrous leeches to mankind. Parasites, killers, inhumane. I don't know how, but Stan has broken the boundaries. Now, we must all pay the price."

Stan placed a hand on the small of Kyle's back to try to soothe him. "It's okay, Kyle."

Stan straightens his back, "I'll do it."

"Stan?" Kyle slumped to the tiled floor crestfallen, but he knew Stan was too.

"I started this whole mess. Now, I'll be the one to clean it up. I'm just one person. If I can warrant this family's safety, I won't hesitate to."

They knew Stan had meant to slacken the chains of their intertwined lives, but he had only secured them further.

He leveled himself to hold both of Kyle's frosty hands. "I thought it was just my rotten luck, I always get myself into trouble. Now, I think of it as fate. I was destined to meet you. I don't think any amount of Lethe will erase you from me. I won't let it."

As he stood to make his way to Shiela, Deja vu stuck him as Kyle grabbed hold of his forearm. Just like they first met. This time, he didn't let go.

"What if you forget me? Us?"

"That's impossible. I can't."

"How are you unmistaken?" Kyle's brows furrowed in cynicism.

"I didn't want to admit it too early, but seeing as this moment is all I have, I shall tell you. I love you."

It was like there was no one else in the room. Unabashed, Stan proclaimed his love.

"I didn't want to let you in, to see me for who I am. I'm just me, plain and ordinary. You made me feel special when really it is you who are special. Your eyes sparkle when you speak about your family. As you handle the flowers in the greenhouse, you make sure to be extra gentle. I would argue besides your strength, your mind is your might. After that first game of chess, I have always lost to you. Of course, I can never forget how you make me want to give you my heart."

They were all in awe of Stan, misty eyes all around the room. He was right. He was just one human. Crazy though, how one person can change your life.

"I'm ready."

After wiping her face with a tissue, Shiela cups his chin gently. She pulls the dropper from the bottle. The liquid inside was snowy white.

"Are you sure, maleńki?"

He doesn't respond right away, preoccupied with scanning the faces of the Broflovski's. Ike is weeping softly into his father's shoulder. Gerald does his best to give him an encouraging smile, but he too was putting on a brave front.

Lastly, the reason Stan felt good about his decision. Kyle's lengthy lashes are plastered with tears. He wanted to smooth out the frown lines on his face, but he was too far. Stan tried his best to drink in Kyle's silhouette. He wishes he could engrave Kyle into his brain so he could never have to forget him.

"Can I hold you before I go?"

Kyle has no second thoughts as he closes the distance, pulling Stan's hands through his curls. Stan thought this is what heaven might look like.

"I love you, too," Kyle murmured as if it were just something they would share. On the spur of the moment, Kyle unfastened his favorite brooch from his breast and pinned it inside Stan's jacket.

"Just once more," Stan begged, tracing Kyle's cheek.

Kyle would never refuse. "I love you."

One drop hits his tongue, cool and sweet. Stan's eyes shut like a babe who has been rocked to slumber. It has been done.

20 notes · View notes