Tell me a story Veeky Forums

tell me a story Veeky Forums

and make it a goddamn good one.

you mean something that has happened to me or a make up short story?

Once upon a time and a very good time it was there was a moocow coming down along the road and this moocow that was coming down along the road met a nicens little boy named baby tuckoo

Once upon a time in a magical kingdom of snow, the royal palace was blessed with exciting news. Three babies were to be born on the same day. Three beaming fathers brought themselves to the King. The first was the Count, ancestral friends with the King. A man with a tall, thin body that imposed itself on the court with the power of a person three times his size. The second was the Baron, a short, plump character with a darling smile whose family had fallen on harder times in the past generation, a fact that his kind disposition never alluded to. The third was the Marshall. He was as a man, from a common birth, but just as respected as the other two for his heroism and the prosperity he brought to the Kingdom. News of the births left all relieved. The three children would live. The Marshall had a son, strong as a newborn could be. The Baron had a daughter with shining blue eyes and light tufts of hair on her head. The Count had been worried. His son had seemed sickly, pale and weak, but he too survived and the three children were brought back to their homes.
As time went by, the three children who shared a day all grew up in the same court. The Marshall's son was an adventurous young thing, fearing no older boy nor monster in the dark. The Baron's daughter was brave too, and her light hair turned into beautiful blonde curls that caught the eye of all of many a young boy throughout the kingdom. The two would play outside in the courtyard through all hours, laughing with the glee of just being young. As for the Count's son, he was given no such luxuries. His mother feared his safety and his father feared his legacy. He was kept within the walls of the palace at all times, lest he scrape his knee and bleed to death like a common pig. But he watched the two from his window, between studies, and dreamed of being like them, free and youthful, healthy and strong.
One fine day when the Marshall's son was ten, he looked over at the Baron's daughter, and as if a switch had turned in his head, he suddenly became very aware that she was beautiful. This fact was not yet known to her, but her mother would teach her soon, and she would no longer be allowed to play with the Marshall's son in the courtyard but wear fine dresses and curtsy with the other young ladies. The Count's son, who had given himself to books so much realized this now as well. He wrote about her in his journal whenever they passed ways, but he never spoke a word to her. He only smiled and looked at the ground past her feet.

my friends and i used to hang out in the empty houses in this big housing development next to our neighborhood. one day as we going through different houses we came across a woman getting fucked by two guys. i sometimes think that we should have asked if we could have our turn but we were so young that the thought would never have crossed our minds.

i still remember the one guy telling us to fuck off because he stood there so nonchalantly while his dick was pointed at us.

the end.

The Marshall's son did not take this lightly though, and decided if she should have to be a lady, then he would have to be a gentleman. He began to dress himself like his father and walk along the inside of the palace rather than the outside, if only for the briefest moments he could see her face again. She noticed him too, and as they got older and older, they grew closer and closer. They spoke with each other every day, climbing to the highest towers and staring out at the city beneath them until the sun went down and then they would stare into each other's eyes until a governess or some other servant would come search for them.
The King soon found out about this little infatuation and laughed about it with the Baron and the Count. The Count laughed about it too, but the Baron did not. He could not marry off his only daughter to a house of peasantry, no matter how much he loved the Marshall. His estate would be in ruins. So, the Marshall was brought in and he was told to make sure the affair would end, which he agreed with. As much as such a marriage might be advantageous to his standing, he had other plans for his son for now. It was in this way that the Marshall's son found himself, at the age of fourteen, taken away from palace life and sent miles away to the finest Military Academy in the kingdom. The days were harsh there, there rules draconian and the punishments severe. His only solace was in writing to his love. He feared that the Baron would not allow the letters to be delivered. How happy he was when he first received one back. The young Lady had not forgotten him and her love burned just as passionately as it had on those moonlit nights over the capital. As harsh as the rules were at the Academy, the breaks were unsupervised. His friends and colleagues would go out and make themselves merry on the fine small town where it was stationed, but the Cadet stayed true. Never once did he think about another woman, and whenever he went home, the two stole themselves away and talked about how life would be like when they were older.
On one fine morning, four years after he had been shipped off, the Lieutenant stepped off the carriage and into the palace. He hugged his mother and saluted his father, prouder than he had ever been in his life. But just as soon, he found his most trusted servant and had him deliver a message to the young Lady. He excused himself to his room, but then left for the town. In a common public house he waited until his love arrived. He took her upstairs to a room he had rented, and sat beside her on the bed. The young Lady, in womanhood, had become more beautiful than he could have possibly imagined. Her shining blue eyes now blazed, he blonde curls fell upon her shoulders casting off blinding light wherever she traveled. Her smile, a trait she had inherited from her kind father, was missing today. The Lieutenant was concerned. All at once she fell into his lap and began to weep.

there was once a homosexual
whose activities were very exceptional
until one day he showed his gay
and his demise has been perpetual

For sale: Baby shoes. Never worn.

w- what h-happened..? ;_;

Once upon a time, in a kingdom far away, there lived a knight. This knight was great and virtuous, and had slain many monsters, dragons and goblins and giants, in his time. And, as most knights do, he had a lady, a fair maiden who lived in a tall castle.

One day, the knight climbed the castle tall and found his lady at work at her desk. "What do you there?" he asked.

"I am writing a poem," the lady said.

"Bah! A poem? What good does that?" the knight replied. "Poetry is of no use. Can it make a man bleed? Can it make a man burn? It is pointless."

The lady, for a while, did not answer. She continued to write, pausing every so often to muse over her words. The knight grew impatient; but just as he was about to say something, the lady picked her paper up, and stood.

"Shall I read to you?" she asked.

"Well, fine," the knight replied.

And so the lady read. The poem she had written was a tragedy, and a romance, one in which a man loved a woman, but lost her, and traveled through distant lands, and to the very realm of the dead, to get her back. He very nearly succeeded, but in the last, when he had almost brought her back to life, he failed, and his love was condemned to the netherworld forever.

As the knight listened, he was at first unmoved. But his lady was a very good poet, and had much skill with words. So as he followed the journey of the man, his heart began to race. He thrilled to hear of the man's adventures, blood pumping, cheeks reddening. He grew pale and shivered at the terrors of the land of the dead. And as the man and his love were reunited, a swell of warmth and pressure rose in his chest.

Then the twist came: the man failed, and the love was doomed to death forever. The knight felt as though he had been stabbed. Tears sprang from his eyes, and he bowed his head, weeping softly at the grand and awful tragedy.

His lady finished her reading, and smiled a gentle smile. She went to her knight, and kissed him on his lips. "Now," she said, "perhaps you will respect poetry more, for it can make a man bleed, without wielding blade, and can make a man burn, without lighting fire."