Stanley X Narrator Oneshots

Stubborn

The Narrator leads Stanley through the game, and Stanley disobeys The Narrator constantly, refusing to follow his demands.
Not dating - Rivals.

Angst.

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"Stanley, you're so bad at following directions, it's incredible you weren't fired years ago."
The Narrator grumbled under his breath but loud enough to let Stanley hear him. The Narrator has been trying to clarify that this is his game, and Stanley must follow his rules.
Stanley didn't listen, obviously.

The Narrator tapped his fingers impatiently against his table. He scrutinised Stanley and watched him cross his arms, still disobeying the Narrator's word. He sighed dramatically.
"Stanley, you don't have a choice. It's my game. You follow by my rules. You can't, just..."
He groaned in defeat. There wasn't any way he could force Stanley to move. The Narrator knew that he had control over everything... Except for Stanley.

"I do what I want."
Stanley stood in front of the two doors, crossing his arms. The man didn't even glance at the doors. The Narrator has tried everything - remove the right door, remove all the doors, force Stanley, persuade Stanley, ask nicely... Nothing worked.
The Narrator swivelled around in his chair. He looked up at the ceiling in his recording booth, wondering what he could do.

The Narrator spoke into his microphone.
"..Alright, Stanley."
As he said the other man's name, Stanley's heart dropped. The Narrator had fully given up on Stanley. He waited for the Narrator to continue with his instructions and demans, but no word was said again. The doors were shut.
As Stanley curiously tried to tug on the left door's doorknob, it was clear that he couldn't go through any doors anymore.

"Narrator?"
Silence. Stanley raised his voice again.
"..Narrator?"
The silence blared. Stanley gradually got more concerned about him. He tried to play it off but dread lingered in the pit of his stomach. He let out a breathy sigh as his arms fell to his sides.

He waited. And waited. And waited. There was no sign to confirm that the Narrator was okay, or even at his recording booth.
Maybe he just went home.
Stanley kicked his feet lazily. He jolted as he heard a sound.

"Stanley. Enter the door on your left."
The door promptly opened as he finished his sentence. But no, oh no... Stanley wasn't focusing on the door. He was focusing on the Narrator and his switch in voice. His once hoarse but soft voice has turned into one filled with tiredness and boredom.
"Narrator, where were you?"
"Nowhere."

Stanley mumbled under his breath softly. The Narrator repeated his command. His tone was slowly turning into a harsh growl.
"Enter the door on your left."
...
"Not until you tell me where you went."
"If you want act all stubborn again, so be it."

The Narrator let an emphatic sigh escape him. The guilt whirring in Stanley's stomach was too much to bear. It felt like an entity was scratching their way through his body - first the stomach, followed by the intestines, and then the heart. The entity would dig their claws into Stanley's heart, but not rip it apart - They'd watch him bleed.

One of his fingers twitched. The air was thick with tension and regret. Stanley's main goal was to tease the Narrator, but he guessed the Narrator didn't realise it was a slight joke. As the seconds rolled past one another, he soon realised that it was his fault. All his fault.
He was the one that started all of it. He teased Narrator. He made the Narrator upset. He was going to face the consequences.

Stanley realised that if he just followed the Narrator's word, maybe the Narrator would finally be pleased. Maybe the man would be happy. He put effort into making the game, and Stanley was destroying all his hard work.

Stanley shuffled into the left door. Despite not wanting to do so, he did it anyway. He felt remorse for teasing the Narrator so much. No word came from the Narrator - just a stifled sigh.
"..Stanley."

"Stanley, are you alright?"
"..I'm sorry, Stanley."
"Answer me, Stanley."
"..Stanley.."

Stanley took quick steps down the hall. He didn't know where he was going, really. He just wished he could leave this game - he wanted to be human. A wall shut up from the ground in front of him.

"Stanley. Again. Why won't you just follow me?"
"Because I want to be more than this."

Stanley stretched out his arms to his sides. He had a glint of burning hatred in his flaming eyes. He clenched his teeth and hissed. His face was turning a bright red.

"I want to have a choice! It's easy for you to give me commands, isn't it? Because you're just a voice. You're just a typical narrator trying to dictate my life."

"You have no life, Stanley."