#Going to test it with my gnome now and fall to the floor shaking

[transvisions]

masc dragonborns in orins fit are kinda……….

[thereareeyesinsidethetrees]

finished my rewatch of gravity falls today so here's some random thoughts i wrote down over the course of the last few episodes (sure most of this has been mentioned already but eh. no harm in repeating things):

-could you imagine how differently things would've gone if any of the pines members knew about ford's nightmare (especially stan)

-ford visibly shaking from how hard he's digging his fingers into the floor (referring to the security droid grabbing him)

-ford almost dies three times before bill actually captures him

-'i haven’t been able to find grunkle stan anywhere' was stan not at the shack at that time or did you just not consider checking his house

-a full limerick for 'man from kentucky' wasn’t allowed, but onscreen death is??

-shapeshifter wink + mabeland fake wendy wink

-why is the unicorn half petrified? what caused the gnome to be mostly petrified, but not quite? how was woodpecker guy able to keep his petrified woodpecker? so many questions about these guys. what occurred here

-first time ford gets turned to "gold", he appears cracked. the second time, he’s free of cracks. implication: either the stone/"gold" people get turned into cracks over time or bill roughed ford up a bit even before the torture

-bill disassembles ford and reassembles him on the other side of the room. interesting to consider for. y'know. torture

-speaking of bill, WHY DO YOU HAVE EIGHT EYELASHES NOW. YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO HAVE SEVEN

-love fiddleford so much. and also zanthar. and craz and xyler. and soos. and-

-manly dan hugs wendy more gently than soos does

-'(strangely genuine) good to see you too bro >:(' i'm sorry stan did seeing your brother trapped in a horrifying gold-ish statue change your tune a bit

-i agree with the circle actually. the fuck are you doing, stan. 

-i feel like the stan twins were strangled in different ways. it seems like ford was literally being strangled and bill was doing something directly to stan's lungs, based on the way they reacted to it. or i'm looking way too much into the animation who knows

-the way stan kneels on the ground :((((

-actually every scene with post-deal stan in it

-ford ultimate depression

-waddles was waiting for them :(((((((((

-stan lies in different ways depending on what he remembers (referring to him lying about the destroyed house being a nice place to be polite)

-'someone get waddles off of me!!' ford: :0 :D

-this also implies that ford learned waddles name at some point

-was wondering why pacifica seemed to have a bit of a character regression. then realized that she had to live with her abusive parents after the party. they uh. they need to be obliterated (heck you can even tell there's a sort of distance between them based on the fact that pacifica's parents wait for her to come to them, as opposed to the corduroys running to wendy immediately. it's not even a durland + blubs situation, they are fully aware of their surroundings at this point)

-pacifica's still trying her best though!!

-ford sings happy birthday with everyone else :)))

-ford's hair grows out really quickly

-'heh' resulting in an immediate :0 until ford keeps talking, at which point stan smiles again

-stan did you think that laugh was intended to be a 'that's ridiculous stan why would you ever think that' type deal and not a 'wow i love talking to you this is great' type thing

-'SHUT UP FOREVER'

-'CAN IT SOOS' in sync (hey ford you learned his name!)

-stan's 'don’t test me >:(' implication vs ford's 'i have killed and i will do it again' implication

-ford comforting hand on shoulder. stan looking shocked until he sees ford smiling at him. grgaggasgg

-fucking love these two

-stan writes in print in all caps (this might mean nothing to you but trust me there is a reason i'm pointing it out)

-ford doing the hand thing in the credits

-'ford hates mabel' DID YOU MISS THE FUCKING TURKEY

that's it that's all of the thoughts

it can go in the tag cause. why not, y'know?

[romeoandjulietyouwish]

okay okay, I'll give FOUR mouf kisses for a fic on that thing of keyleth getting hurt?:,)

for you? anything <3

Keyleth is utterly bored. To her left, the ambassador from the neighboring kingdom talks her ear off about policies and shit. Since her father is away on business, it falls on Keyleth to handle these political dinners. Across the room, Vax watches her with a slight smirk on his face, knowing how much she hates this.

Keyleth wears her best fake smile as she takes a sip of her wine, a gift from their visitors, nodding along to a conversation she really doesn't understand in the slightest.

"Princess Keyleth," one of the nobles addresses her, "what are the king's thoughts on the treaty between Whitestone and Emon?"

Keyleth turns to them, "I'm not at liberty to speak for my father. I'm sure he'd be more than happy to talk to you about that when he returns tomorrow evening."

"And what are your thoughts on it, princess?"

"Well, I-I-" Keyleth is saved from answering, however, as her throat begins to close up. She gasps for air, one hand moving to her neck as though there's anything she can do about it. Her eyes dart to Vax and find him already moving towards her.

She knows that he'll be too late as she falls from her chair, eye fluttering closed.

As Vax sees Keyleth fall, his heart falls to the floor. He's not in time to catch her as she tumbles to the cold stone floor, but as he runs to his princess, he shouts at Jarret and one of the other guards, "Don't let anyone in or out of the castle! Someone get Pike!"

Vax doesn't even stop as he scoops Keyleth up in his arms, her head lolling against his shoulder. He shouts at another one of the guards to grab Keyleth's plate and goblet and follow him. Vax is well versed in poisons, they're easier to cure if you have the source.

Vax holds Keyleth tight as he sprints as fast as he can to the infirmary. He doesn't look down at Keyleth, the love of his life. He can't feel her breathing, all he has to do is sprint, that's all he has to do right now.

Vax kicks open the doors, "Pike!" He shouts. The gnome appears in an instant as he lays Keyleth down on the closest bed. "She collapsed during dinner, she's not breathing. I brought her food and drink, it has to be poison."

Pike nods seriously, her mouth pressed into a firm line as she summons golden balls of light as she scans over Keyleth. Vax stumbles back, out of her way. A shaking hand rises to his mouth as he forces tears back from his eyes. Keyleth is going to die and it's all his fault. He should have checked everyone in that room for contraband, he should have been watching more closely, he should have tested Keyleth's food and wine himself.

He watches as Pike commands the room of healers, those with arcane abilities scan over the food and wine for any traces of magic, warm compresses are pressed to Keyleth's face, a ball of golden light on Keyleth's chest is the only thing keeping her alive.

Vax doesn't know how long he stands there, but it seems as though he blinks and Pike is standing in front of him.

"We did all we could for her," Pike tells him softly. "We found a poison, it had to be really fucking strong to act that quickly so we're working on an antidote. We gave her something for the time being until we can put it together."

Vax swallows thickly, "Is she going to die?"

"We don't know," Pike admits. "She's stable right now. We don't know for how long."

Vax nods, pretending that he can breathe. "Okay. Can I sit with her?"

"Of course," Pike smiles at him.

As Vax sits down in the chair beside her bed, taking her hand in his. They don't have to hide it now, their relationship is public to everyone in the castle. There's no need to look over his shoulder as he kisses the back of her hand.

"I need you to hold on, Kiki," he tells her softly. Her skin is pale and clammy, the glowing ball of light still on her chest. "I can't lose you. This kingdom can't lose you and your father...you're all he has left. So please hold on."

His voice is over come with tears as he squeezes her hand.

The hours pass in a blur, and there's no change in Keyleth. Vax doesn't move from her side, not until Percy and Vex all but force him home, that he leaves. But only when he makes them promise to wake him up if anything changes, good or bad.

Vex takes him home, shoving him into his bed. Just like when they were kids, she sits in his bed with him until he falls asleep. He dreams of Keyleth, of course he does, he dreams of her in the sunshine and in the rain, smiling and dragging him into a dance. But most of all he dreams of her in his arms, her soft hair covering his arm, her breath soft against his chest. Her-

"Vax."

He jerks awake, finding Vex looking down at him. Her expression is even, though there's a slight glimmer in her eyes, telling him he's about to receive good news instead of bad.

"They made an antidote and just gave it to Keyleth. She's going to be okay."

A choked laugh bubbles out of Vax as he sits up, throwing his arms around his sister. Vex hugs him back for a moment, "She's going to wake up soon, I'm guessing you want to be there when she wakes?"

Vax nods and the two of the leave the barracks. Thankfully, Vax realizes as they step outside, that it's just getting to be morning, meaning the king hasn't returned yet.

The infirmary is almost empty, it's just Pike and Percy as Vax enters. Wordlessly, Vax sits down on the side opposite the two of them. As he looks at Keyleth, he can see that there's color in her skin again, her chest is rising and falling without an aid.

It takes a while, maybe an hour, but Keyleth's eyes flutter open. She squints in the brightness of the rising sun before taking a soft breath. "Vax?" She asks.

"I'm right here, Kiki," he stands so she can see him easier. "It's alright, you're okay." He tenderly brushes some hair from her face and with a teary smile leans down to kiss her.

"I feel like shit," she murmurs when he pulls away.

Vax chuckles, "Pickle says that's normal. You're going to have a few days of bed rest to look forward too."

"Yay..." Keyleth sighs as she sinks back into the pillows. "No meetings." Vax chuckles. "You'll stay?" She asks him.

Vax nods instantly, "I will. As long as you'll have me."

[anistarrose]

The Fishtank Between Time and Space (GF One-Shot)

Summary: Stan doesn’t think much of the pet axolotl Ford left behind… until he realizes hardly anyone else can see it.

Word Count: 2100

Warnings: none

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20653508

***

Stan initially figures it’s just a weird pet of Ford’s, simple as that. After all, Ford was okay with him adopting a possum and tying a knife to it when they were kids — little pink salamanders are frankly very normal, by the standards of Stanford Pines.

(Not to mention by the standards of the town that is Gravity Falls. Ford could’ve caught all kinds of disturbing creatures out there in the woods, like a feral gnome or a literal sentient fire... or like something that Stan hasn’t even laid eyes upon, only knowing of its existence from the creaking and rattling noises he always hears when venturing through the forest at night. But thankfully, Ford hasn’t invited any rabid beasts or dark entities that Stan knows of into his house, and Stan’s grateful for that.)

But the salamander — the “axolotl,” Stan learns after finally breaking down and doing some basic research — always feels just a little bit off, in a way he sometimes struggles to put his finger on.

He thinks it’s all in his head, how the beady eyes always seem to be fixed on him. How it never seems to stop smiling. How he’s never once seen it eat, even though the food pellets he gives it never seem to accumulate on the bottom of the tank.

He doesn’t know a whole lot about axolotls in general, and on the basis of that ignorance, he convinces himself that the salamander Ford left behind is perfectly normal.

Until one day a few months after Ford’s disappearance, when something rare happens — he has company other than the usual tourists.

It’s just Boyish Dan Corduroy, hired with some of the first spare cash Stan has had in a long time to come in and fix a few squeaky doors. But he takes his time lumbering through the living room on his way out, which sets Stan on edge. None of the secrets he’s hiding are possible to uncover from this floor of the house, but habit keeps him anxious. Throughout the rare times in his life in which he’s had a residence to call his own, visitors have almost always meant bad news.

Dan’s gaze lands on the fishtank, which has been diligently maintained as a healthy environment for salamanders even though the rest of the room is an unorganized mess. (There are a lot of jabs you could take at Stan’s character, but for whatever reason, he’s developed a soft spot for Ford’s old pet.) As always, the axolotl’s eyes stay fixed on Stan, even though the lumberjack is closer.

“You keep this tank pretty clean,” Dan notes. “You gonna buy some fish or something soon?”

“Well, I’ve already got the —” Stan pauses, realizing he’s not sure how to pronounce axolotl. “The salamander.”

Dan presses his face close to the side of the tank, inches from where the axolotl sits, gills twitching. “Really? Where?”

“You serious? It’s literally right in front of your face — that thing with the pink frills and the beady eyes?”

Dan steps back from the tank, throwing an arm behind Stan the clap him on the back. “Ah, I see what you’re doing! It’s a new attraction you’re testing out on me — the invisible salamander! Good one!”

“Are you — are you fucking with me? Can you really not see —”

But Dan’s already leaving. “Good luck with the Murder Hut business!” his voice boomed from the porch outside. “I’ll tell everyone to come visit your invisible friend!”

Stan whirls around back towards the tank. “Do you know what the fuck that was?” he asked the axolotl. “Who’s really pranking me here — Dan, or you?!”

The axolotl offers no reply, and Stan feels like an idiot for the brief moment in which he’d genuinely expected one.

“Maybe Ford did some weird occult shit to you, and you didn’t have a choice in the matter,” Stan mutters, shuddering slightly as he thought back to all the cracked prisms and X-ed out eyes he’d discovered in his brother’s house. “Or maybe I’m going crazy and hallucinated you all along.”

A bubble comes out of the axolotl’s mouth, rising to the top of the tank before bursting with a satisfying — and very real-sounding — pop.

“Thanks for the reassurance.” Stan tosses a handful of food into its tank, and trudges back to his bedroom upstairs.

There was one rule that Stan very quickly established as he began to run the Muder Hut — or the Mystery Shack, as he was thinking of renaming it — and that rule was not to keep anything genuinely supernatural around, unless it was vital to getting Ford back.

But the axolotl… well, it’s still up for debate whether it really is magical, but Dan hadn’t seemed like he’d been joking, and Stan’s pretty sure that if he was going to hallucinate, he wouldn’t imagine into existence a real salamander that he’d never heard of before with perfect accuracy.

Stan doesn’t want to get rid of it, though. He’s gotten used to the axolotl’s company and the routine of caring for it, even though its eyes still weird him out from time to time. And it’s already been around for months without showing any malicious tendencies, so… would there really be any harm in keeping it around?

***

Months, years, and then decades pass, and Stan’s relationship with the axolotl stays more or less the same. He feeds it and cleans its tank, it smiles at him, and he feels just the tiniest bit less lonely. It’s not much in terms of companionship, but Stan is happy to take what he can get. He talks to it sometimes, telling it about all the places he’s searched for Ford’s journals and all the roadblocks he keeps hitting while he works on reactivating the portal, and it always looks so encouraging.

But two things happen during those years — the first being that Stan becomes convinced that something supernatural is going on with that salamander.

Business is booming so dramatically that he can hardly handle it all on his own, and he goes through several handymen and cashiers before eventually firing each one. Almost all of them comment on the empty fishtank at one point or another, gesturing right towards the spot where Stan can see the axolotl floating, clear as day.

He definitely wonders if he really is hallucinating it after all, but then the second interesting thing happens: someone else notices the axolotl. Several someones.

“I didn’t know you had any pets besides the goat, Mr. Pines!” Soos exclaimes on his second full day working at the Mystery Shack, smooshing his face up against the side of the tank. “What a weird fish!”

Stan is so caught of guard that he doesn’t even think to explain that it’s actually a salamander. “Uh… yeah. It sure is.”

Soos frowns. “Something wrong, Mr. Pines?”

Stan folds his arms, shaking his head even though his mind is racing. “Me? I’m fine. Just wasn’t expecting you to spot the shy little guy, since it usually likes to… you know, hide from strangers. Now, were we going to try and fix the golf cart, or not?”

And that’s the end of the axolotl discussion with Soos, over as quickly as it had begun. During the rare occasions Stan leaves the Mystery Shack, he always instructs Soos to feed it, and the axolotl always seems happy and healthy when he returns. He cannot for the life of him figure out why he and Soos seem to be the only two people in the world who can see it, but eventually he gives up on wondering. A mystery like that would’ve always been more of a question for Ford, anyways.

When he hires Wendy, it takes a while for him to realize that she can see it too. She spends so many weeks passing by the fishtank and not commenting on it that when she finally brings it up, Stan nearly spits out his coffee.

“Where’d you get that salamander, Mr. Pines? My science teacher is looking for a class pet, but everyone just keeps suggesting boring stuff like hamsters.”

“Uh… it came with the Shack. Two-for-one kinda deal, you know.”

“Darn, I was hoping you fished it out of the lake or something. Then I could’ve just gone and caught one myself.”

A few years later, when the twins arrive for the summer, Stan’s heart aches as he watches them discover the fishtank for the first time.

“Hey, Dipper, come check this out! Do you know what kind of animal this is?”

“Whoa, is that an axolotl? That’s so cool! I think I read that in Aztec mythology, they’re associated with the god of twins!”

“Really? Then you’ve just made the perfect new summer pals, Mister Axolotl!”

“Don’t tap on the glass like that, Mabel. You might scare it.” Dipper notices Stan watching them, and immediately starts firing off question after question. “Where did you get it? Do you ever show it to tourists? How long have you had it? How long do axolotls live? It looks pretty small — is it still a juvenile? Do they ever get bigger than this?”

Stan sighs. “Kid, I didn’t even know how to pronounce the world ‘axolotl’ until you showed up today. All I know is how to keep it fed — anything else, and you’re better off looking it up at the library or on a computer or wherever.”

“Well, you at least know where you got it from, right?”

Stan scoops a spoonful of food into the tank, avoiding eye contact with Dipper as he headed back to the gift shop. “I do, but it wouldn’t be the Mystery Shack if I didn’t keep a few secrets, would it?”

Dipper groans. “You’re no fun.”

***

When the axolotl disappears, it hits Stan harder than it should.

Even after thirty years of taking care of it, he never quite thought of it as his pet. It always struck him as more like a roommate, if anything — a lovable little freeloader who came in on its own terms, and stuck around only because it liked the place. Stan’s never given any thought as to why, but he’s always just felt weirdly certain that it could leave at any time if it wanted to.

And now, it has.

So he can’t help but wonder if it’s his fault. If he didn’t clean the tank enough, or cleaned it too much, or wasn’t fast enough noticing or resolving the situation with the lobster Mabel dumped in the tank.

Maybe it wasn’t anything he did. Maybe the axolotl just got bored of watching a man spending thirty years lying to tourists, forging his own brother’s signature, failing to learn quantum physics, and ultimately accomplishing absolutely nothing worthwhile.

Eventually, the kids notice and ask him, and this time he can’t spin it as a secret he’s keeping. He genuinely doesn’t know.

***

After Weirdmageddon, Stan’s memories are a two-thousand piece puzzle scattered across a tabletop, and he thinks he’s starting to fit some of the edge pieces together again, but there are still more gaps than connections. He remembers that the people who have been doting on him and showing him pictures are his family, and he remembers that he loves them and trusts them to help restore him to his former self, but progress is just… so… slow.

He doesn’t remember why they say he saved the world. He’s pretty sure they’re stretching the truth a little, but after seeing the way Ford’s face fell when Stan first asked why everyone was calling him a hero, he’s decided not to correct them.

So what if he doesn’t feel heroic? If it makes his family feel better, he’ll keep it to himself — it’s the least he can do, considering how many tears they’ve already shed for him.

But the first morning after his alleged act of heroism, while trudging through the ramshackle ruins of (he thinks) his house — a flicker of motion from behind cracked glass catches his eye.

The fishtank is nearly drained of water, but a familiar salamander sits in the puddle at the bottom, beaming at him. Stan blinks and rubs his eyes, wondering if he’s still dreaming, but then —

It speaks to him, in an ethereal and musical voice that resonates oddly in his ears, like he’s hearing the echo before he hears the words themselves.

I am so proud of you, Stanley.

“For what?”

Everything.

It dissolves into a froth of tiny, pink, glowing bubbles, which burst one by one as they float towards the top of the tank, and then the axolotl is gone.

***

(End notes:

So one day a few weeks ago, I just randomly woke up thinking “what if the Axolotl was only visible to the members of the Zodiac?” and several bouts with writers’ block later, here we are! Thoughts/comments/reblogs are welcomed as always!)

[hiyo-silver]

Storytime - Richie's Nostalgia

Summary: Richie tries to tell a story about he and Bill when they were younger before he gets carried away and has to delete the footage because it reveals too much personal information on Bill.

Chap 1 + Chap 2 + Chap 3 + AO3 + My Masterlist

Taglist: @fuckboykaspbrak @thesquidliesthuman @starboystan @rachi0964 @ahoybyeler @beepbeep-losers @bigbilliamdenbro @jalenrose1122 @sleepygaybrough @itandstrangerthingsfanfic @boopboopbichie @peachywyatt @aizeninlefox @sockwantstodie

Richie sits in front of the camera, plopping on the couch in such a fashion that makes the springs in the cushions creak loudly under his weight. He grins to himself, adjusting his glasses as he goes to flip open the viewfinder and click the on button green

He lays back on the back of the couch, getting comfortable, even "man spreading" as Beverly calls it when he does, she always opens her legs wider than he does. He doesn't seem to mind, she's more dominant than he is anyways.

He smiles lazily at the camera in his lowering high, a couple bong hits an hour ago leaves him feeling much smoother than he really is. "Hello, viewers, friends, subscribers," he starts with the grin, leaning forward now with his elbows on his knees.

"Today, boy do I have a story for you," he says, shaking his head with a grin wider than ever. "We're talking about me and Billy Boy in highschool," he says with an eyebrow waggle that goes as long and has far as to make his forehead a bit sore.

"We were fifteen at the time, good times, good times..." He trails off into the story.

Bill slams his locker shut, huffing deeply and jumping when he sees Richie standing straight in front of him in the near empty hallway. He's leaving early because he had an anxiety attack in class over the upcoming geometry presentation he has to do. It doesn't even make sense, why would I need to talk in front of the class about numbers, that's what the teacher is for.

"Heya Billiam, you need someone to go with you? I know your folks probably won't do you any good," Richie offers, his voice losing the normal kick it usually has in favor of something soft and soothing and actually careful, cautious of how Bill may be feeling.

Bill hesitates for a moment, knowing that means Richie will be absent for the day too and he'd feel awful if he got in trouble for it. Richie cares more about his friends than he cares for himself, leaving him in constant trouble with the adults in Derry. He especially speaks out much too much, leaving many people upset with him.

"Sure, R-r-rich, I th-think I'd like that," he says softly, hugging his composition notebook tight to his chest for comfort. He decides he doesn't want to be alone all day, having only made it to the first hour of school, since geometry is set as his second.

Richie nods with a small smile, only letting the corners of his lips tilting up in his normal smirk. He tries to act normal as he takes Bill's hand to drag him off to the front entrance, carrying Bill's backpack and his own.

"Silver doing you good still, Big Bill?" Richie asks, trying to start a conversation that would build Bill up instead of making him feel any worse than he already does.

Bill nods, "She's th-the most p-p-powerful steed," he says surely, still basing much of his pride in his bike, the very one he'd bought for himself after Georgie's death.

"I believe you, Billy," Richie says proudly, climbing on to his own rickety bike, the seat too low for his legs that had shot out like beanstalks once his middle school growth spurt hit.

Bill only smiles softly as he clambers on Silver, her mighty self still proving too tall for even Bill's current height, taller than even Richie's.

They share a look before both starting to pedal at the same pace, taking different amounts of strength to go the same speed due to the difference in bike sides.

Eventually they hit the park, Richie looking to Bill for some sort of direction, "We going to yours or mine?" He asks, looking down at his feet, kicking at the dirt path so dust bubbles up into the air.

"M-mine sounds good, I l-love your mom but I d-don't wanna w-worry her," Bill says, already obviously sure in his decision, his response coming almost immediately.

Richie only nods, bringing his foot back up to the pedal. He starts a bit too slow, wobbling to the side a little, catching himself by kicking his foot to the ground before bringing it back up to speed after Bill who got farther while Richie was struggling with his pedals.

They both smile devilishly at each other, speeding forward at each other to try and be the faster one, every ride is an unspoken race when it's just the two of them.

Once they arrive at the Denbrough residence (Bill pulled into the driveway first but Richie refuses to accept it) Bill lets them in with the key under the garden gnome on his front porch.

He walks in, dropping his backpack immediately to the floor with a thump. He sighs to himself, rubbing his hands over his face and sighing, running his hands through his ginger hair. He truly just wants to calm himself, but that means letting the rest of the pent up anxiety out before it can feel better.

Bill lets a few tears stream down in salty orbs that represent how he's feeling, obviously pretty awful if he's allowing himself to cry around another person. As fast as the tears started, they stop abruptly, he quickly swipes them away with long sweatshirt sleeves that cover his hands like little paws.

In this moment he looks nothing to Richie but a younger version of the Bill everyone knows. Seeming small, nearly fragile and like he could fall apart further if Richie missteps.

Richie can't help but drop his bag as well to wrap his lanky arms around Bill clumsily, holding him for a few moments as the boy shudders slightly under his touch. "You're okay, Bill, I can leave if you need me to," Richie offers, feeling Bill shake his head quickly against his neck.

Bill finally pulls away, looking Richie square in the eye, "C-can you get the bl-blue blanket from my bed? I'll m-make us tea, think it'll c-calm me down," he says, slowly making a plan in his head for the two of them.

Richie nods in response, looking a bit bewildered about how the leader in Bill had immediately come back in that moment, a pop up of the version he often sees.

Richie trudges his way up the creaky wooden steps to the upstairs bedroom. He opens Bill's closed door, stepping into the room. He feels wrong entering alone, it's always with Bill and he feels as if he's intruding now.

Bill's room is the epitome of the room that belongs to a creative but sad person, in other words, it's an absolute disaster. He has a way of organizing, he just never seems to use his method of organization after he's started it.

Richie pulls the fuzzy blue throw blanket from atop the comforter that lays all wrinkled on the sheets. He folds it neatly enough, hugging it to his chest as he goes to the door, closing it behind him only lightly, not wanting to disturb anything.

He makes his way downstairs to where tea is steeping on the counter but no signs of Bill's presence in the kitchen. Then, suddenly, Bill pops out from the dining room, his phone timer still going off until he clicks it off hastily to pull the tea bags out of the mugs, wincing a bit at the hot water that runs up his arms as he walks them to the trash can.

"T-tea's ready," Bill says sheepishly, wiping his arms down with a paper towel, knowing he'll probably feel sticky until the next shower, though he realizes that he really just doesn't care.

"I see that, I can carry them?" Richie offers, grabbing Bill a second paper towel, looking down at his own hoodie and back at Bill's wet sleeves, "And do you want my hoodie? I know you get cold," Richie tests carefully.

Bill nods hesitantly, starting to pull off his own sweatshirt to take up Richie's offer. He's a bit shy, a few stray marks on his arms where he picked at his skin in the strong state of anxiety he'd been in earlier.

Richie quickly pulls off his hoodie, still warm so when Bill pulls it on it feels almost like it's fresh out of the dryer, just as he likes it.

Richie grabs the mugs, a blue one and a yellow one, knowing Bill almost always uses the yellow one, the blue one is his second choice, which definitely makes Richie feel honored. "Where we goin', chief?" He asks with a playful smile.

"I'll l-lead you," Bill says, his tone telling Richie just to be patient, Bill is obviously in one of those moods, and chances are that his surprise won't be negative, knowing him. He's a careful leader and fears nothing more than losing people he loves, which means that he would be especially upset if he scared them off by mistake.

Richie just nods, letting Bill carry the blanket. He watches carefully as Bill drapes it around his shoulders, making himself into a walking human burrito as he walks the two of them towards the room nobody ever seems to open, not for years at least.

Bill opens the door, filling their eyes with yellow and blue and plush toys, an intact Lego turtle sitting neatly on the bedside table just as it should, becoming the first thing seen whenever someone goes in.

Bill crawls right into the small bed, obviously little as it was meant for a boy as young as the age of six. He pats the side next to him, slipping off his shoes and letting them tumble to the floor, better there than on the bed. He'd wash the sheets if he dirtied them but maybe then they'd feel less like Georgie's.

Richie takes off his shoes before sitting in next to Bill, carefully sliding the tea onto the bedside table without touching the turtle. It's not his to touch and he knows that both he and Bill know that.

"It j-just hurts a lot," Bill says softly, whenever he falls apart everything seems to rush back, he's not gotten enough closure on the situation, he truly wishes that it had all ended differently so he could feel differently.

Richie sighs, looking down at his fidgety hands that he holds in his lap so he wouldn't feel so annoying. "I know, Billy, you deserve better," he says quietly, reaching one of said hands over to Bill's shoulder to rub it comfortingly until he feels the other boy quiver with tears again.

"I'm s-sorry," is all the usually stoic boy says in a near whine, unable to get the words out properly.

Richie's heart melts for him, leaning over to hug him, brushing the tears away with his thumb, looking into Bill's watery eyes. "I'm always here for you, I love you," Richie reminds, leaning in to press a peck to Bill's lips, something out of the ordinary for them but Bill doesn't seem to mind.

Richie snaps from his storytelling, looking into the camera and shaking his head to himself, "God, I can't post that," he reminds himself, reaching forward to shut off the camera, taking the SD card to wipe the filming session from it as if he hadn't gotten teary and nostalgic about that story for the past half an hour.

[sky-writes-daydreams]

How They Met Chapter 25

A/n: Only a few more Chapters to go, Dolls!! XD This has been one of my longest projects so thank you to everyone who has stuck around. This has been one of my biggest challenges but honestly I feel I might be stronger for it. so... like always please enjoy. The likes and reblogs mean the world to me :) 

@valkyrieofardyn @shigekihizashi @blindedstarlight @lola-mcevil13 @the-altissian-authors

I skipped outside happily. Ardyn was behind me getting his hat on and sighed.

“You know after last night, I’m shocked you’re even walking.”

“What can I say? The soak in the tub did me some good.” I looked back and gave him a wink before running ahead laughing. I had on earmuffs with matching gloves and one of his thicker scarves around my neck. The jacket was something he had them get for me on the way here and it fit perfectly and kept me warm. I hit the empty snowy field across the drive and quickly just fell into a pile and started on a snow angel. He followed and chuckled one he saw me.

“You won’t be able to get up without messing it up.”

“Oh well.” I got up then and  looked back smiling.

“Still looks cool!” He sighed then shaking his head before just following me. I was having fun. I hit a patch of ice on the way over and ended up skating just a bit before falling into the snow laughing. It didn’t even hurt. I found a clump close by and got an evil idea.

“Hey Ardyn…”

“Yes?”

“You’re like a public official right?”

“Of course. Why?”

“Well in insomnia there were laws protecting people like that from assault and such.”

“Correct. I’m sure we have such rules here as well… Why?”

“Well… Would it count if it came from me?”

“Um… Probably not.”

“Good!” Right as he looked over, I launched the snow clump at him. It hit him square in the chest of his buttoned jacket. I laughed a bit as he looked at the snow stunned before kneeling down.

“Oh no…”

“You started it. Forgive me if I finish it.” He had a good sized one and soon launched it at me. I jumped behind a drift then and laughed as it hit the ground. At least till I got a face full. He started laughing then. For a bit we had our own snow war. It was fun and honestly.. It was worth getting snow in my bra for. I got to hear him laugh. It only stopped when my snowball went past him and hit something metal. We both stopped then worried I had hit a car when we saw it was Ravus. He had caught it with his metal hand. Ardyn smiled then.

“Commander.”

“Chancellor. Forgive me for ruining your fun but you’ve been requested to report in at the council.”

“Damn Already?”

“Yes sir.” I pouted a bit then. Ardyn sighed and brushed off.

“Oh very well… Allow me to show skylar to the study first.” Ravus nodded and I hopped over the snow drift then and got ardyn’s hand. Ardyn smiled a bit and held on as we headed inside.

It was honestly very quiet inside here. I saw a few other officials dressed in nifelheim colors staring as we walked in and I moved closer to his side.

“Relax…” I nodded a bit but didn’t let go. I saw a few whispering as we approached and he gave them that winning smile I had seen on the Tv. I hid my smile behind the scarf until they passed.

“Chancellor mode on huh?”

“Oh don’t even…” I laughed then and Ravus looked over. I just smiled at him before letting go of ardyn and getting next to him.

“So how are you doing Ravus?”

“Fair…. I see you’re getting used to the area?”

“Eh. What I’ve seen so far… Never really dealt with the cold so that’s a hassle…. But I think I can handle it!” He nodded gently then and looked forward.

“Might have to see if you can take any hunts here. It would help you learn the area and the daemons that lurk around.” I perked up then.

“Hunts? Oh I’d love to…”

“Ah. Thanks for the reminder Commander… I need to talk to him about that.” I looked back at Ardyn and he smiled.

“The hunts are usually controlled by Research chief verstael Besithia. He would be the one that would need your help the most.”

“Whoa… That name is a mouthful…. But alright!” Ravus even chuckled then before stopping by a door. We were pretty deep into the building. Ardyn came forward then and got a key out. It slid into the lock easily and turned just as quickly. He opened the door and let me slip in. I was in book heaven. Shelves were filled with books. In the middle was a sofa and a table for meetings. Behind them a nice desk with a comfy looking chair. I could see there was a side room where I could hear a fire going.

“This is my private study…. If you want, you can wait here till the meeting is over and we can have lunch.” I nodded then slowly getting the gloves off and into my pocket.

“What are the books about?”

“Just favorites I’ve collected through the ages. Lucian history and such. A few fantasy Novels are in the next room.” I nodded smiling then.

“I’ll hang out in here.”

“Alright. I’ll send a maid for refreshments ok?”

“If you want… I can always get them myself.” Ravus chuckled then.

“I think it would be smarter to use the staff. This place gets confusing. I’d hate for you to get lost in your first two days here.” I looked back at him and Ravus was completely straight faced. Ardyn was less so.

“I’m not that bad at Directions guys. I could figure it out.”

“Oh we know. But… It seems like you underestimate how big this place is.”

“Well what floor are we on?”

“Fourth.” I gave Ardyn a look and he smiled.

“They started up but then decided down was better after shiva.”

“Oh….” He nodded.

“So It’s best to leave it up to the Maids and such. They learn the whole place before ever being let loose on their own.” I nodded then and sighed.

“Alright. I’ll play along.”

“That’s my girl.” Ardyn stepped closer then and instantly I was in a small kiss. I didn’t want him to let me go but all too soon he backed off. I huffed gently making him chuckle.

“Relax. A short wait and I’ll be back. Promise.”

“Good. Or you’re losing your scarf.” He chuckled then and I smiled before they left.

I got the rest of my snow gear off then wandering around. I even sat behind his desk just to see how comfy the chair was. He had really good taste honestly and the view out the window was amazing. Snow was still falling gently but with the sun out, they looked like little diamonds. I stayed there watching till the snacks came but then I went to the other side. I started checking out the books and soon found a new one I hadn’t read before. I sat down on the couch near the fire getting warm with my cup of tea and a little plate of cookies close before getting lost. It almost felt like home again as I kept reading.

I had changed positions a few times just so I could find a comfy position to read from. When the door opened, I was stretched out over the couch with my socked feet facing the fire as I had my head resting on the pillows as my book was on the arm rest. I only heard them when he spoke.

“She’s around here somewhere sir… skylar?” I lowered the book and sat up a bit.

“Ardyn?” He peeked in and smiled.

“There’s my love. I have someone I want to introduce to you.” I froze then as a man walked in. He was in armor even now. He almost looked like an angry garden gnome with a badly trimmed beard. I quickly got off the couch and straighten out my outfit as he came even with Ardyn in the doorway.

“Skylar, this is Research Chief Verstael Besithia. Sir this is my lover and the huntress I mentioned.”

“Ah Yes… A pleasure, my lady.” He bowed slightly and I tired to do the same back. He had a really gravely voice that honestly… Set me on edge.

“The Chancellor has spoken about your prowess in battle. Said you were a force to be reckoned with.”

“Possibly. I’m just good with a weapon sir and knowing when to run and when to give it my all.” He nodded slightly then.

“Where is your weapon?”

“I’d believe in our chambers sir. I had a friend of mine back home help me build her.” Ardyn nodded then.

“Already eager to test her out?”

“Out of Necessity. One of our research outposts has recently been abandoned due to a pack of coeurl.” I was smiling but it slipped when I heard. Ardyn looked over then.

“Skylar?”

“.... how fast can you get me out there?” The Older man stopped then.

“Young lady do you not understand? It’s a full pack. I’d have to get…”

“No one else.” I moved then getting my boots back on quickly.

“I…. I once went on a hunt of them all over my home area. I’m used to them. Sure they’re a version more used to the cold but a coeurl is a coeurl.” I jerked my right boot on then and quickly tied it off before standing.

“You want to see if what he said was true? Get me out there. You’ll see.” He nodded then.

“I know that look. Very Well. Meet me out front. I’ll have commodore highwind drive your snowmobile. Chancellor?”

“I’m coming as well.” He nodded and left. I followed him into the next room and started gearing up. Ardyn was close.

“Lunch has been pushed back then?”

“Sadly….” I got my scarf on then and took a deep breathe. I still had a hard time not getting flared up.

“You know why…”

“I do. Only reason I’m not arguing… ride with me on the way back.”

“No problem…. Thank you.” I turned then and he was gently smiling. He came close and moved my scarf closer before kissing my forehead.

“You need this…. So let’s take out these daemons…. Then… I’m thinking Gnocchi.” I laughed a bit then.

“Works for me babe. As long as we get dessert first.”

“Well when else are you to eat it?”

[crimsonrevolt]

Congratulations Amanda you’ve been accepted to Crimson Revolt as Evan Rosier!

↳ please refer to our character checklist

Amanda -- you could’ve sent in just your name and Evan’s and I’d have probably accepted you -- because the impact you left with your wonderful villain/anit-hero has always been monumental in the rp and it’s so exciting to see you back! He’s always been haunting, and there’ve been paras we’ve written together where I was genuinely frightened and repulsed, but there have also been moments of beautiful sincerity and depth that make me adore what a complex and wonderful character you’ve crafted. I’m so excited to see him grace the dash again, and can’t wait to see what directions you take him now! (Also..... Amos resents the thought that he’d be used as bait. Excuse you.)

application beneath the cut

OUT OF CHARACTER

INTRODUCTION

Amanda, 27, EST

ACTIVITY

5/6/10 I do have a job, but I plan to be here as much as possible. :)

TRIGGERS

*removed for privacy

HOW DID YOU FIND US?

An ad on Tumblr a year ago.

WHAT HARRY POTTER CHARACTER DO YOU IDENTIFY WITH MOST?

I always identified with Harry the most. Being an only child, and also his personality. I like to think I’m also fairly honorable and a good, selfless friend. But I’m no chosen one. Actually I probably identify with literally any Hufflepuff because that’s my house.

IN CHARACTER

DESIRED CHARACTER

Evan Rosier

FACE CLAIM

Paul Wesley

REASON FOR CHOSEN CHARACTER

I always saw Evan as a bit of a dark horse in Voldemort’s army. I think he can be a bit of an anti villain in a way, as his motives for doing the things he does are shrouded in grey. He’s selfish to the core, though and he only looks out for himself except for in extremely rare cases. He’s a Slytherin through and through for sure, but mostly he’s looking out for himself because nobody else will.

I love that Evan went down fighting in the books for what he believed even when it was clear the fight was lost. To me that shows loyalty and self-preservation. Had he been on the other side, his stubbornness and willpower would have been celebrated. He’s a fighter and he owns up to who and what he is. What you see is what you get, and he would rather die than turn in his friends for his own personal gain and taint his family honor, and it’s only this way that he is selfless, and that’s why I love him.

I enjoy playing multi-layered characters, and would love to explore his character further.

PREFERRED SHIPS // CHARACTER SEXUALITY // GENDER & PRONOUNS

He/him

Evan identifies as heterosexual, however he is not above exploiting males for his gratification. However I don’t think he really is attracted to any particular gender, let alone people. He is certainly capable of developing feelings for someone, but when it comes to desire he is not interested in basic sex. What excites him most is bloodshed, violence, and power and so if that is not in some way incorporated, the interest level will significantly drop. He would choose torture over sex any day. He is a sexual sadist.

CREATE ONE (OR MORE!) OF THE FOLLOWING FOR YOUR CHARACTER:

-A PLAYLIST

https://open.spotify.com/user/12176480390/playlist/2BhCzi5oW9PCLmdKMm88mg

-A FEW HEADCANONS

- He hates children, but would hesitate to outright murder one. - An avid cat enthusiast. - His mother died when he was eleven years old from an unbreakable vow. She fell in love with a muggle. - His favorite game as a boy was collecting garden gnomes to bury alive.

-A FEW POTENTIAL PLOT POINTS

- Evan falling in love with/befriending a muggle born or half blood and testing his willpower and loyalties to the pure blood cause. - Being the last remaining Rosier heir to continue the family name and the pressures that go along with it. - Evan being forced to turn on a friend or a loved one for the sake of gaining approval and glory.

IN CHARACTER QUESTIONNAIRE

♔ If you were able to invent one spell, potion, or charm, what would it do, what would you use it for or how would you use it? Feel free to name it:

“Some kind of freaky potion that causes the victim to experience excruciating mental anguish with a name like ��Tormentia’. Hell, I should become a potioneer. Time to switch careers. I’m a genius; a modern Libatius Borage.”

♔ You have to venture deep into the Forbidden Forest one night. Pick one other character and one object (muggle or magical), besides your wand, that you’d want with you:

“Amos Diggory, and I don’t really need anything but my wand because all I’d have to do is use it to tie him to a tree to stave off any danger. Give me a chance to make a run for it. Okay, I’ll bring my cloak. It can get chilly in those woods.”

♔ What kinds of decisions are the most difficult for you to make?

“I don’t exactly make a point of dwelling on making decisions. I tend to act, then think about my choices later.”

♔ What is one thing you would never want said about you?

“Anything that would imply that I am weak and an embarrassment to pure blood society.”

WRITING SAMPLE

  The last thing he wanted to be doing was rifling through a fellow Death Eater’s personal belongings. All Evan had been intending on doing was waiting for Cassandra politely in her bedroom to discuss the contents of the meeting in private, but he couldn’t help but notice a letter on her dresser. Being the nosy git that he was, he then just had to snoop, expecting it to be just a casual letter from family or perhaps a thank you note from the holidays.

It wasn’t.

   The words still stung his eyes like he had just poured acid into them. Not only had Cassandra been writing and addressing an apparent recent tryst with the half blood scum Amos Diggory, but it would seem she had also been swapping love letters with an actualmudblood. Repulsion roared in his veins and he thought he was going to vomit. By the time she opened the door and he looked up, he was holding a handful of the letters detailing her affairs and he wasn’t even trying to hide what he had been up to.

   Ignoring her words, Evan simply shook his head with a simpering flare of disgust. “You have got to be kidding me.” He said, tutting her as his gaze fell back to the ink on paper before they went fluttering out of his hand and to the floor. “You slept,” he breathed, taking a step toward her, “with Diggory?” The rest of it he couldn’t even bring out of his mouth. What had she been doing, collecting trash? He had thought she was so much better than that.

   “And Dearborn? What the hell is this?” He bent down to stomp his boot down over one of the letters before she could spell it further away. “Oh, I’m going to love to hear how you try to explain yourself out of this one, Burke.” He said with a disappointed shake of his head, arms crossed as he pinned his eyes on her horrified expression.

* For more, see my blog. xDDD

[journalxxx]

Rerun

Inspired by @steampunch​‘s breathtaking art

The images on the screen are surprisingly clean and vivid, the sound of laughters and broken branches unexpectedly crisp and sharp. Each reel was packed and sealed very carefully, but Ford wouldn't have guessed they would have aged so well. They've withstood the test of time much better than the both of them, which, he supposes, is the exact purpose of such keepsakes. He doesn't watch them, though. He can barely remember the content of the tapes, but they hold very little interest compared to the fact that Stan's jokes and questions have gradually lessened, that his eyes are now glued to the screen as if the very essence of the universe was pictured on it. His own largely is, probably.

Bless the visual arts. Three nights of detailed tales and heartfelt apologies didn't so much as spark the barest hint of recollection on Stan's part, yet a handful of pictures from a child's scrapbook and few minutes of haphazard recording are proving miraculous. Ford observes his brother's features with trepidation, the deep shadows cast by the projector giving him an even more serious and profound appearance. This is it, he can tell. He hopes.

The reel stops with an abrupt snap. Stan blinks, glancing around himself as if suddenly awoken from a dream. He rubs his hand on his eyes for a moment.

"...Damn. Sorry, can we rewatch the last part? I spaced out a bit." "Of course." Ford stands up and starts fiddling with the projector, rewinding roughly half of the tape. He bides his time with the equipment, and with his questions. He sits back on his chair as two overly energetic kids are about to earn themselves a semi-permanent banishment from the family shop. "Where did you say you found these?" "In my private study. I don't quite know how they ended up down there, but I do remember having them sent here from home. I guess I did move around some stuff at some point..." Stan keeps staring at the screen thoughtfully, slouching slightly to the side of the armchair, his hand holding his right cheek. A frown crosses his features, but only for a moment. "...Right. The second underground floor. I could never get past that fancy lock. But the backdoor to the emergency stairs was a child's play. I can't believe the gnomes never found a way in." There's his answer. Relief washes over him slowly, almost a physical weight settling in his stomach and crawling up his spine. It pervades him so deeply that it feels almost unpleasant. Stan shoots him a small, satisfied smirk, and Ford can only smile in return. "I set up a couple of magic deterrents back in the day. You got in?" "'Course I did. I turned the whole house upside down while I was searching for anything that could help me fix that mess in the basement. I couldn't make sense of anything I found down there though, not even the giant computer. Goddamn codes and passwords everywhere." The precarious Fort Stan on the screen collapses loudly, catching their attention again. An abrupt cut spares them their father's decidedly unimpressed reaction to their filming ambitions, and the setting switches back to the great outdoors. Stan's expression shifts again, to one Ford doesn't quite know how to interpret. "I found these, I think. I checked one, but I didn't... Well, they weren't going to help me with the nerd work. I put them back where I found them." Ford considers the screen for a moment, realizing he himself has no memory of that specific sequence. He remembers asking for the reels, when his mother had decided to toss away some of their old stuff. He remembers the thought of the tapes being destroyed feeling vaguely unpleasant, he remembers packing them adequately for when he would have time to watch them. For later. "...I never watched them either." Silence stretches between them, way more meaningful than all the inane chatter and one-sided conversations of the last few days. Stan sighs deeply, and Ford squeezes his arm gently. "...Are you all right?" "Yeah, yeah." "If you're tired, we can call it a day and-" "No, really, I'm fine. It's just- it's just..." Stan's gaze drops to Ford's hand and he stares at it intently, as if trying to gauge the right word from Ford's knuckles. "...Nuts." "That's putting it mildly." Stan smiles, and falls silent again. He is strangely pensive, strangely quiet and cautious, much unlike his normal boisterous character and even his easy-going and carefree amnesiac self. Of this third, probably temporary iteration of his brother Ford knows nothing, and he has absolutely no idea how to handle it. "Stan... I know I've been nothing but spitefully secretive about everything since I came back. About myself, about my plans, about Bill- and God knows how much damage that caused. But if there's anything you need to know... Anything you want to ask..." "No, not ask... but I do have something to say." He frowns, picking an invisible speck of dust off Ford's sleeve. "And do. Before it slips my mind." That is a loaded introduction if Ford's ever heard one, so he waits. Stan slightly leans forward, then he pauses, a shadow of uncertainty crossing his features, then he leans forward again. He doesn't stop. His lips land on his brother's, his breath tickles his cheeks, and Ford's mind goes completely blank. The first emotion emerging from the void is utter dread. Because Ford cannot possibly fathom what may have spurred such an action, so it must be some sort of mistake, some tragic inconsistency or misplaced attachment in his brother's memory, a positively catastrophic one. He tries to inch back from him, but Stan's arm slips from his grasp to hold him by the side of his head. Ford's mouth opens imperceptibly in surprise, and suddenly he's acutely aware of his brother's thumb tracing his cheekbone, slowly tickling his sideburn, of his palm brushing the shell of his ear, of his fingers tangling in his hair and curving on his nape. Stan's lips caress Ford with a gentleness that he's never experienced before, with his brother or with anyone else, and with a deliberate tranquillity that subdues any objection. It's over before Ford can recover properly. Stan leans back just a bit to look at him, still gripping Ford's head firmly, only slightly flushed and holding his gaze steadily. "I..." Ford gulps. Each word feels like a round of Russian roulette, ready to blow both their brains out. "I think... this is a serious misunderstanding." "You think, uh? Figures, I should have started with the other thing. But that 's been... a long time coming." "What... Stanley, what on earth-" "Shut up and listen, Poindexter. Carefully." The hand on Ford's nape becomes heavier. The grip on the back of his neck suddenly feels way more like a vise, and Stan brings their heads closer again. Their foreheads bump. Hard. Painfully. "You motherfucking bastard." Ford blinks. His doubts on Stan's coherency and sanity have skyrocketed in the last sixty seconds, but he has no opportunity to express them. "To make it quick. I'm not going to rub in your face the ungodly amount of utter bullshit that you spew on mine thirty years ago, but don't think I don't remember. Don't think for a second that I don't remember." He can feel Stan's nails digging slightly in his nape, their glasses tinkling uncomfortably against one another, his brother's steely tone digging in his chest like a knife. "I'm not going to question your right to complain about the state of the house as if it was a deconsacrated temple- my house, as much as it is yours - or to burn my merchandise, or to disparage three decades' worth of work to bring your sorry ass out of Sci-Fi Land. I'm not so stupid that I can't see your point in those matters. A cheap, selfish, haughty point, but a point nonetheless." "I-" "What I do question-" Stan's jaw sets at a sharper angle, a tight grimace twists his features "- is how much of a petty, self-absorbed prick one must be to greet his own brother after thirty whole years with a punch on the face. A punch. On the face. And insults. And a full-fledged eviction notice." "No, listen." Ford's head snaps up, nudging the other to earn himself enough leeway to look at him. "I told you, I'm- believe me, I'm truly sorry about that. I had just come back, the house was-" "I know what you said and for God's sake, shut up. This is nothing, this is childish, obnoxious, irrelevant crap- nothing compared to dragging a couple of kids - my niece and nephew, your niece and nephew- into your personal holy crusade against a psychopathic, mind-controlling monster. They could have died, Ford. They could have gone mad. I may have done a lousy job at protecting them from all this myself, but at least I tried. At least I tried." "...I know. That... I know. You-" "Stanford. Shut. Up." Stan finally loosens his grasp and raises his head to meet Ford's eyes. He doesn't look as furious as Ford was expecting. He doesn't look angry at all, in fact. He looks dejected, tired. Sad. "I know that you know, and that you're sorry. I know what you told me. The problem is, you told me yesterday, and the day before that. You told me when I didn't even know what the hell you were talking about, you gave me your apologies when I didn't even know I deserved any. And that - as sincere as you may have been - is cowardly as fuck. Wonderfully refreshing for your conscience, I bet, but completely meaningless for me, because I couldn't talk back." The logic is flawless. It's his turn not to talk back, so he doesn't. Stan's expression grows softer. "So. We're doing this all over again. We're talking again about all this, so that you can deliver your apologies properly. And... have some of mine as well. And we're talking to the kids too, of course. They deserve it more than the both of us." Ford nods and instictively glances at the clock. Stan follows his gaze and shakes his head. "Not now. God, not now, I barely even know how old I am. And you look ready to stab yourself with an ice pick." Stan is still holding him, but Ford finds that it doesn't feel as if he's about to snap his neck any more, so he can lean back to a reasonable degree. Ford sighs tiredly, scratching his own knee nervously. "Well, you are right. About... basically all of it. I... I know it doesn't mean much like this, but... I really am sorry. For everything." "I know. I heard you the first ten times you said it, but... Hell, don't give me that look, I refuse to console you. You had that coming." Stan pinches the bridge of his nose, his whole face scrunching up. "Don't go moping around like that, you'll worry the kids. I just... needed to get all that out of my system." Ford considers his brother's words for a moment, his thought dwelling on a short but very prominent part of the evening. "...All of that?" "Yeah. All of that." Now that expression, Ford recognises. He's seen that purposefully casual, undisclosing demeanour countless times from countless hardened gamblers on Lottocron Nine. And apparently three nights in a smelly cell and a forceful ejection from the dimension's finest establishment still haven't taught him that not all bluffs should be called out. "...Is there anything else I need to hear?" Stan snorts. "Yeah. You're a stuck-up, insufferable, pushy smartass." "...I see." "A callous, unfeeling, smug cock." "I'm... glad this nasty incident hasn't impaired your vocabulary." "A remorseless, ungrateful, stubborn son of a bitch." "We still have the same mother, you know." "Are you seriously-" The reel snaps loudly as it stops. They both stare at the bright, white screen for a moment. "Dammit. I can't get to see the end of this thing." "Shall I rewind it again?" "Nah, maybe another time. Put on the next one." Stan lays back comfortably on his armchair and his hand finally withdraws from Ford's neck, slipping off his shoulder. Slowly, lightly. Almost like a caress. "And grab more popcorn while you're at it."

[diannaphantomfiction]

Possessed

Chapter 1 of ?

Fandom(s): Gravity Falls 

Rating: T

Summary: Sock Opera didn't end happily. When Mabel fails to save Dipper, the course of Gravity Falls drastically. More than likely for the worse. (Possessed Dipper story)

Date Uploaded: April 1st, 2017

On Ao3: Here

On FanFiction: Here

Previous (This is Chapter 1)

Next (Coming Soon)

Notes: Hello Everyone! So, this is my first Gravity Falls FanFiction and I'm super excited about it! This Chapter is sort of a Test run, and may be changed later, but at the moment, I'm pretty happy with it! It will also likely leave you with more questions than not, but that's the point! Also, I'm going to be look for a Beta/editor for this story as my regular editor doesn't watch Gravity Falls. Thank you so much for taking an interest in my story! If you enjoy this feel free to drop me a line or a review if you want! Also, if you have an tips or ideas! I love feedback and conversation with readers!

After living in Gravity Falls for thirty years, few things truly terrified Stan Pines. He'd seen ghosts, dinosaurs, lake monsters, gnomes, and even unicorns, but what was standing right in front of him was the most terrifying thing he had ever witness. He hadn't meant for those kids to worm their way into his heart. The only reason he agreed to keep them for the summer was because it seemed like something Ford might do. Before he knew it, the self-proclaimed "Mystery Twins" had snuck their way into his heart. Dipper reminded him so much of Ford, with his laser focus and intellectual prowess and Mabel's go get it attitude and dreaming disposition reminded Stan of himself when he was younger.

That was what made what he was looking at so terrifying. Dipper, eyes glowing yellow, pupils elongated, was fighting Mabel and winning. Brutally. And it looked like it was going to end horribly if Stan didn't step up now. Dipper was sitting on Mabel's stomach, his hand wrapped tightly around her throat. Mabel had managed to throw the book Dipper seemed to be after across the room into the audience, but now she was scratching at her brother's hands weakly. Stan jumped up on stage, and forced Dipper off my Mabel, putting the young boy in a tight headlock and lifting him off the floor.

"Mabel! RUN!"

Coughing with tears in her eyes, Mabel stood up, "He's not-cough-Dipper, Grunkle-cough-Stan!"

"Just get out of here kid!"

Mabel ran off the stage and once she was safely in Soos's arms and being ushered out of the building, Stan turned his attention to his nephew.

"Alright kid, just calm down! Whatever's going on, we can fix it! Curses can be broken, kid, you just have to fight this!"

"This ain't no curse, Stan Pines!"

Dipper didn't sound quiet like himself. Sure, it was his voice, but the was an underlying rasp and echo. Stan scoffed, not a curse his butt. Dipper wasn't himself and a curse was the most likely explanation. Dipper was fight against Stan, though, kicking and scratching with intensity and strength Stan didn't know he had.

Suddenly Dipper froze, going nearly limp in Stan's arms. A sick smirk spread across his face and he started chuckling, "Finally! Man, that was hard to break!"

With that, Stand could feel a sudden rush of power radiating off his nephew's body. Dipper's hand glowed with blue fire and with a quick flex of his arms, Stan was sent flying backwards into a wall. He looked up to see Dipper floating a few inches off the ground.

"Like I said, Fez, this isn't a curse! I'm honestly surprised you haven't recognized me yet! Name's Bill Cipher!"

Stan froze, a lead ball falling into his stomach as he heard that name. Possessed. Dipper was possessed by a powerful dream demon. Stan was lucky enough to have never come face to face with Bill Cipher, but he had read about him in Ford's journals. Everything he had read was enough to make him terrified of the demon, but right now he had to be brave. Dipper was either trapped outside his body or locked away in his own mind and Stan had to be brave for him.

"Let him go Cipher! He's just a kid! What good is he to you anyways?!"

Cipher laughed wickedly, the fire around Dipper's hands grew, "Oh, this is rich! You honestly don't know anything, do you Fez? Pine Tree here gave himself to me! He's mine now, end of story! And there's so much more to him than even he knew! You think I would choose a weakling host?"

Stan pushed himself to his feet, balling his hands into fists, "Look! I'll do whatever you want; give you any deal you want! Just let Dipper go!"

Anger came off Dipper in waves suddenly, the glow in his eyes intensifying his skin turning black, "!"

Cipher rose his hand and slashed in down in a cutting motion. Stan looked up, as the metal of the stage above him started to shake and groan. The metal started to fall and Stan had to roll out of the way before it crushed him. After a few seconds, the dust from the sudden destruction started to clear and Stan turned his attention back to where Bill was before he tried to crush Stan, only to find the demon had disappeared. Growling, Stan punched the nearest object (which happened to be a piece of metal) in anger. He had to get back to the Mystery Shack before Cipher got to Mabel again.

Dipper didn't know where he was. He couldn't see anything more than an arm's length away from his body; he couldn't hear anything except the rattling of the chains restraining him and a strip of energy over his mouth was preventing him from making noise. Dipper honestly didn't remember much. He vaguely remembered making a deal with Bill and it going horribly wrong. Anything after that, and even the deal itself, was fuzzy, if it was there at all. Dipper found himself having trouble staying awake. Maybe it would be better if he just went to sleep…

Stan was unsurprised to find Mabel hiding away in Sweater Town on Dipper's bed when he got back to the Shack. Honestly, Stan couldn't blame her. Her own brother just tried to kill her; if Ford had done that Stan would probably do the same thing. Stan sat down on the bed beside his niece.

"Hey, kid."

"Mabel's not here. She's in Sweater Town."

"Uh huh. How about you come out of sweater so we can talk about your brother?"

Mabel immediately popped out of Sweater Town, "It's not Dipper's fault! That wasn't him!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, calm down kid. I know it wasn't Dipper. Honestly, it was kind of obvious when he started floating."

Mabel sighed and cuddled up to her Grunkle, "He just started acting all weird. I just… I knew it wasn't Dipper and it turned out to be-"

"Bill Cipher. I know. He might have shouted it too the heavens."

Mabel nodded into Stan's shirt.

"Don't worry kid, we'll figure out. We'll get Dipper back. Now do you know what Bill Cipher is?"

"I think he said he was a dream demon?"

Stan nodded, "Alright, I'll see if I can dig up anything."

"Grunkle Stan? Can you stay here for a bit?"

"Sure thing, kid."

Mabel returned her face to Stan's shirt, "I miss Dipper…"

[haughtbreaker]

Delphine Got Married Pt 12

Hello all. So it feels like it’s been forever and it kind of has been. Sorry about that. Enjoy the fluff… or whatever this is… 

“This should fit.” Cosima offered Delphine a small stack of clothes. “I usually have to roll the jeans up so… some of us weren’t graced with such an awesome growth spurt.” It was a little bit of a sore spot for her. She’d stopped growing and so had Sarah. Unfortunately for them, they were now about the same height as their mother. “Some of us are doomed to live the life of garden gnomes.”

“I think your height is perfect.” Delphine took the clothes, the chill from her still wet clothes finally having gotten to her.

“Perfect for being the shortest person in class.”

Delphine shook her head, stepping a little closer. “Non. Perfect for this.” Leaning forward, she pressed a gentle kiss to soft lips, nearly laughing as she pulled away and Cosima chased the kiss for the briefest of moments. “See. Perfect.”

Cosima groaned. “You are a cruel person.” She took a deep breath and released a miserable sigh. “Did you… ” She pursed her lips as her eyes dropped to Delphine’s cast. “Did you need help?” She realized how that could have sounded and quickly added, “because of your arm? I’m not sure…”

A smirk worked it’s way across Delphine’s face that was part hormones, part adolescent nonchalance. “You know if you wanted to undress me…”

“No!…” Cosima quickly responded. “I mean… yes… but no… shit!”

Delphine couldn’t help but laugh. “Well if you’re not going to help, turn around.” She placed the small stack on the bed, not waiting for Cosima to comply before stripping off her damp shirt. As her sleeve snagged on her cast, she couldn’t help but wince at the pain, a sign that her high from earlier was wearing off.

Cosima froze, her eyes doubling in size behind her glasses as she was torn between blatant staring and knowing she shouldn’t.

There was a nagging voice telling Delphine this was wrong, but at the moment she couldn’t really remember why or even care. It was something in the back of her mind, something saying no, but it was overruled by the rapid beating of her own heart and the memory of soft lips.

Maybe she was focusing too much on it. It was perfectly normal, wasn’t it? She changed in the locker room in front of others all the time, but she felt a slight flush come over her as she saw the look in Cosima’s eyes. Then again, Cosima wasn’t like the others. “See something you like?”

Cosima inattentive turned bright red. “No!…Yes! Fuck!” She sounded like a broken record as she quickly spun around, head in her hands. “I swear I’m really not trying to be like a perverted spaz.”

Delphine chuckled, slipping the black shirt over her head. “As you say, Hakuna Matata.” It took a little more work to shuck off the damp jeans. She was glad Cosima wasn’t watching her because she was sure she’d had far more graceful days, nearly falling over was well worth the effort as Cosima’s jeans were soft and she was thankful for the blissful warmth they provided. They were indeed the perfect length for her but she found herself to have one small problem. “Ok… so I need your help.” She finally admitted having weighed all the options and finding only one.

Turning around, the flush in her cheeks had lessened slightly and Cosima grinned at the sight of the blonde in her tshirt and jeans. “I live to serve.”

“These jeans have a button fly.”

Cosima nodded. “Yeah! Don’t hate. Button flies are totally… well… fly!”

Delphine sighed softly. “One button I can handle with a little work, but 4… we’re going to be here all night.”

“What do you…” Cosima’s words trailed off as the blonde rose her casted arm, an expression on her face indicating Cosima should have known this. “Oh… shit.” scratching her head, she pursed her lips, turning to her drawers. “Well…I can probably find… err…”

“You can probably come over here and help me button them.” Delphine quickly spoke up, that option apparently not even occurring to the brunette.

“Me?” Cosima pointed at herself. “You want me to…” Her eyes dropped to where the t-shirt was blocking the unbuttoned fly. “No… I can't…” just the thought of her hands being that close to… Yes she wasn’t technically a virgin but Delphine was… well… Delphine, and someone didn’t just stick their hand down the front of the jeans worn by the most popular girl in school.

“You are making this really weird, Cosima.” Delphine shook her head. Reaching out, she grabbed her by the front of her shirt, pulling her forward. “You’re just buttoning a few buttons… but… If you want, I can go ask Sarah… I mean, she is kinda cute…” She joked.

Cosima’s eyes narrowed behind her glasses. “That is way harsh, Captain.” She protested as her hands settled on the blonde’s hips. “Ok, so…” She tried not to think about the slight chill to Delphine’s skin or the way her knuckles brushed against damp cotton panties. “Can I ask you a question?” She needed to get her mind off of what she was doing.

Delphine had closed her eyes, attempting to keep her breathing even as she felt the warmth of Cosima’s fingers. “What?”

Fastening the first button which took the most care considering how close her hand was to… Cosima shook her head. “You don’t have like… some weird twins sex fantasy do you?”

Her eyes shooting open, Delphine found the brunette grinning at her. “What?” Her voice came out in an incredulous huff.

“Like…” Cosima fastened the next button. “I’m not into the whole… incest thing.” Getting the next button done, she smirked. “I mean… I like my sister and all, but the only womb I ever want to have shared with her is our mother’s.”

Delphine grimaced. “No… God no.” Shaking her head, she looked down as Cosima finished the last button. “It was just a joke, Cosima.” She felt the soft stroke of the brunette’s thumb against her stomach and she rose an eyebrow. “I have no interest in Sarah.” She whispered as she covered the brunette’s hand with her own. “Thank you for your help.”

Cosima swallowed. “It was… so my pleasure.”

It took everything in Delphine to take a step back, swallowing audibly as she fought with the surge of need and desire she felt.

Cosima wasn’t sure if she was disappointed or thankful as she took a deep breath. “Ok so… you have a test tomorrow right?”

Delphine nodded. Studying was safer, she thought as she tried to push aside the heat of Cosima’s touch that had somehow burnt its way into her memory.

With a nod and taking a seat on the floor, they took the safer path of studying. An hour went by easily, Cosima helping her through some of roadblocks while doing her own homework. That was… until Delphine felt eyes glued to her, the brunette obviously having lost interest in her own studies.

“Stop.”

Cosima smirked as she returned her eyes to the textbook, trying to focus on her homework.

Delphine scribbled down a few numbers before she felt a gaze glued to her again. Looking up, dark hazel eyes averted quickly back to the math book. They had put some space between themselves after earlier, but she wasn’t getting anywhere with her own homework any more than she knew the brunette was. “Cosima…”

“I’m sorry!” Cosima closed her book in frustration. “I can’t help it… You’re just…” Her words trailed off.

“I’m just… what?” Delphine noticed the look in Cosima’s eyes, even as they were averted. The brunette wasn’t very good at hiding her emotions.

“Beautiful.”

Delphine felt her heart skip a beat. Since they started dating, Paul had always referred to her as hot, something she detested more than words. He never called her beautiful. She didn’t think the word even was a part of his vocabulary. “Cosima,” Delphine closed her books, pushing them aside, “come here.”

Cosima wasted no time in pushing aside her own books and scrambling closer until she was inches from the blonde.

Reaching out to cup Cosima’s cheek, Delphine smiled, pulling her forward for a kiss. She could feel the revenance in the tender response, something so delicate that she felt her heart swelling. Breaking off the kiss, she traced the brunette’s lips with her thumb, watching as they spread into a smile. “You are the most beautiful creature on this planet.” She whispered, surprising herself with her own candor. The soft blush that colored cosima’s cheeks only added to her beauty.

She thought back on her dream, remembering the dark dreads and the devious expression as knowing hands had easily claimed her, but that was just one possible future when she wasn't… she didn’t even know anymore how many years were between them. She should have been worried about that, worried that maybe her memories were slipping away just a little faster than she wanted, but it was difficult to find a reason to care with Cosima’s presence so close.

“What are you thinking about?”

Delphine smiled. “You.”

“You know…” Cosima inched even closer, straddling her thighs and bumping the tip of her nose against Delphine’s, chuckling softly. “For someone who wanted to put some space between us not that long ago…”

“Shut up.” Delphine laughed as she pushed the brunette back just slightly. As if second-guessing that, she tangled her hand in her shirt and pulled her forward for a more solid kiss.

She’d started this friendship with a simple plan, to save Cosima. So why did it feel like she was saving herself instead?

“Hey!” Sarah called down the basement stairs. “Delphine’s dad is here!”

Delphine cursed as she began to jam her books into her bag, biting her bottom lip as Cosima watched her. “Stop.” She laughed as she grabbed the sweet body spray from her bag and spritzed it lightly to rid herself of the smell of pot. The rain hadn’t let up at all and she had begrudgingly called her parents for a ride home.

“I don’t think I can stop.” Cosima grinned as she stood up, stretching out her back. As an arm wrapped around her waist, she sunk into the embrace. “Mmmm. You smell like apples

… Fake apples.”

“Yeah well you smell like marijuana.” Delphine pressed a quick kiss to Cosima’s lips.

“It’s all part of my charm.” Cosima looked down as Delphine’s hand slid into her own, their fingers intertwining as she was pulled towards the stairs. It was such a simple thing, but it made her swallow audibly. It had barely been a week. How had things changed so quickly?

Still behind the safety of the closed front door, Delphine pulled her forward for one last kiss. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah.” Cosima nodded, watching Delphine open the door and slip out it. Blinking against the bright headlights reflecting off the downpour, Cosima exhaled slowly and clicked the lock shut, her hand pressed against the now-closed door. Her mind ran a thousand miles an hour, a never ending stream of consciousness reviewing the last few hours.

Breathing in deeply, a toothy grin spread across her face. She remembered reading once, that sense of smell was strongly tied to memory, more so than all the other senses and as she inhaled once more, she was overwhelmed by the scent of rain and apples.

“Hey… Lesbo.”

Cosima turned back towards her sister who was coming down the stairs. “That’s totally not PC, you know?” She rebuked, heading into the kitchen to root around the fridge.

“What’s with blondie always being here?” Sarah leaned against the breakfast bar, fingers restlessly fiddling with leather cuffs fastened around her wrists, speckled with silver spikes.

Popping open a bottle of Sunny D, Cosima shrugged, gulping down the sweet, citrus drink. “Just lucky, I guess.” She offered half to her twin, wiping her mouth with the back of her free hand as the bottle was accepted. “What’s with the sudden interest?”

Sarah tossed the bottle in the trash after quickly drinking the rest, offering her sister a shrug. “Just askin.” She followed as Cosima headed down to her basement room, taking a seat on the last step as her sister began cleaning. Or rather, watching as Cosima kicked a wet towel to the corner that held a small pile of dirty clothes. “I mean… wasn’t she dating Paul just like a week ago and now she’s in your room making out with you?” Sarah tilted her head to the side. “I mean… thanks to my genes, you’re a pretty good looker, but…. he’s Paul…”

Cosima laughed as she pulled her colorful dreads up into a bun, remembering Delphine’s remark about Sarah being cute. “One would say thanks to my genes… but things change. He’s not really that awesome of a dude… just cause you gave him a hand job two years ago…”

“Hey! Shut up!” Sarah snorted in indignation. “He’s captain of the football team, Cos. He doesn’t have to be a good guy. He’s got popularity.”

“Yeah well… popularity can’t make up for the level of scum…” She wasn’t going to mention what happened under the bleachers, she’d promised Delphine she wouldn’t tell anyone. “Sometimes you stop and think and realize people aren’t who they pretend to be.” Picking up the towel that Delphine had been using, Cosima paused, reaching down to pick up a notebook. Opening the cover, she noticed Delphine’s familiar script, small phrases of poetry scribbled neatly across the page. She couldn’t help but smile at the silly words, wondering when the blonde had written it.

“What’s that?”

“Delphine forgot her notebook.” Flipping through the pages, Cosima realized some of the poems were about Paul and she grimaced. She was about to close the book when she got to a few blank pages, but as she flipped one more page, she got to a more frantic script. It looked like Delphine’s but it was rushed, unlike the care that was taken with the pages before. She could make out the messy words, but fragments of sentences and ideas painted only part of a picture. Maybe they were wishes for the future? A future with Paul? A dream? A short story? She couldn’t understand what the purpose was of the little snippets, but her eyes fell on one sentence.

Two words stood out, repeated several times on the pages between weird descriptions of situations Delphine described as if they had happened. Two words that sent a cold shiver through her, settling in her gut and manifesting as an overpowering queasiness.

Save Cosima.

[story-weaver-d]

I've created a new D&D character that I love I think I finally found my favorite class to. So I figure why not share my backstory and write about the adventures.

My mother was a lovely elf. She loved using her arcane abilities to bring joy to those around her. She had learned through her years how to make toys come to life. And others were very amused. One day she met a human who was traveling through town and he loved making fantastic toys. He wad surprised top see my mom first in line to purchase from his unique selection. He wad so curious but when she saw that she could bring the man's toys to life he was amazed.

The human and elf decided to work together and they fell madly in love. It wasn't long after that they got married and had a half- elf child.

This child was taught by his father how to make toys add a pass time. It was time much better spent in his opinion than with the elven kids which made fun of him. They called him names in elven assuming he couldn't understand because he was only a half breed. One day the boss father got sick. It wasn't long before the man passed away. It was hard on them both. For a while there boys mom couldn't bring herself to go outside and the toys once brought to life now lay still on a shelf. But she wouldn't look at them.

On a dark day the boot went to market to get some food for himself and his mother. And he was cornered by a couple of elven kids in the alley. They pushed the boy rp the ground. "you're only a half breed. You need to get out of our city. " the elf quickly struck the boy. The boy reacted by putting his hands up and boom. Here heard a thud. S the boy looked up he saw something floating in the air a single large rock and an elf boy on the ground. Looking away the other boy here stick him with the rock to. The elvish boys quickly ran as the boy came out odd the alley he noticed something strange to him. All the elves in town were looking at him. They knew the elven boys had pushed him into the alley. They knew everything the entire time. Bit now they were looking away him with anger instead of ignoring him. So he grabbed his bread and fruit and ran home. Rushing into the house he eagerly explained what had happened and what he had done.

After the experience the boy and his mother left the elven city. His mother seemed revitalized somehow and started teaching him the ways odd the arcane strings. It wasn't long at all before they both could make toys come top life. They were arcane puppeteers. The boy made them new toys as they traveled and they put on showed while staying in taverns for coin and selling the very toys used in the show's.

One day an elf man approached them. Add they finished a show in a new town He was amazed with their gift. He offered a free room while they were in his town. He wad an arcane mage but didn't know abilities like ours existed. My mother fell in love with this elf and we stayed with him.

The man taught the boy a little about the arcane spells he knew and how they could be used. He apparently lived hearing himself talk. Something didn't feel right. Something was odd about this mage. One day after being with the elven man for some time there was yelling. The elvin man wad angry about not having a prodigy. He wanted a son of his own but the boys mother apparently could not have kids anymore. The boy shrugged or off and plugged his ears. He imagined he couldn't hear them despite hearing the screaming and yelling. Then there was a loud crash. The boy rushed out of his room and the elvish man had walked out. The boy saw his mother with tears in her eyes. With a rosy red cheek. She'd been stricken and this filled the boy with much rage. Even when he was bullied by the elven kids he didn't feel much rage. But this anger devoted him.

His mother stroked his hair and said it was ok. Bit it wasn't and so when the boys mother was in the wash room he took a knife from the kitchen and hid it in a shelf. Just in case he needed to protect his mother. She obviously couldn't protect herself. She needed the boy.

That night the boy woke up. He had a bad feeling that couldn't shake. Something seemed odd. The elven man never came back. So the boy stood up from bed. He snuck through the hall and peeked into the candle lit kitchen to see a short man in black. He had the boys mother, his hand on her forehead and a sharp knife in her neck. As she was let go she fell to the ground lifeless.

The boy could only see red. As red as the blood in the room. He ran into the room and used his arcane strings to catch the knife he had hid earlier. It flew into the man in blacks back from behind. Here never saw it coming as he let out a big grunt. He pulled out the knife and moved up to the boot so swiftly and quietly it was terrifying. He went to plunge his knife into the boy's gift when the boy held up his hind in response and then he stopped. The man wad brought to a stop. Again a knife had found his back but this time it was the boys mother. She impaled him with the kitchen knife and the guy was in horror. "You're dead! The elf said this job would be easy." He was in shock as he hit the ground.

But the boy knew she was definitely dead. He was an arcane puppeteer and he could control all sorts of things. He gathered his things as he seethed with rage. He packed food and everything. He'd need. He too the coins from the short man. He searched his belongings and took his knife as well as anything that seemed valuable. Clothes and all.

Wearing a new black outfit the gnome laid dead near his mother the boy kicked the gnome as hard as he could. "I'll kill that elven man one day. He'll die in the worst way for taking my mom from me. The boy pulled his hood up and grabbed a few toys off the shelf and left on his own. Only at 10years old. Over the course of year he'd lost everything. But he had to do what he could to keep living.

Three years have passed since then. The father he got from the town his mother died the less he saw his wanted posters. He was wanted for the murder of his mother and a family friend. It was just more fuel for the fire in his eyes. He now wears black garbs with a dark hood and a mask. Dark in color with a dark red smile and yellow eyes with purple lines under each eye.

Yet another show on the street. His thoughts do amazing things. The people see incredible life line movement as the toys dance and fight. The people put coin in a tankard as the boys toss perform. In the back is a someone dressed like the boy he's big and notices something odd. And he smiles.

A small toy makes his way through the crowds back. He swiftly used a sharp knife to cut pursed and feathers the few coins that fall.

The show is over and the act is done the toys and the boy bow. The crowd scatters and the boy let's the toys crawl back into his pack.

A big man in black walls up. "Can we chat? "

"Not interested." The boy snaps from behind a mask. "I saw what you did. Taking from the back of your crowd with a small puppet." The boy decided to hear what the big guy had to say. They walked into the local tavern as they sat down the burly guy pulled his hood back revealing a sturdy jaw and large tusks with green skin. A half-orc. He clears his throat before talking."you've got skill boy. I can teach you some interesting tricks if you're interested." "What's in it for you?" The boy snaps. "Half our lootings" before he knew it the boy was in training. The half-orc taught him how to stay silent and fast. How to pick locks and many useful tricks as well as weapons training. The man trained him to use many weapons and how to create and disarm traps. They stole from many people and made lots of money together. Somehow although very different the half-orc reminded the boy of his father. They had fun being bad and took from a lot of people. But they eventually attracted too much attention do to the amount of thievings in the town. The guard became so tight the half orc decided it was time to move on. The day they were to leave the boy came back to their shelter he opened the door and found the half-orc dead. On the floor and heard rustling in the back room. The boy snuck in and snatched he gear that was ready for them and left without a sound. At the front door he noticed a paper. Picking it up it was his wanted poster. The boy adjusted his mask and kept moving. Given yet another reason the kill the elf his rage burns brighter.

The boy is now a man. Travels, making money as a showman with his toys. On the side he crafts his first puppet. A tool he'll use for his revenge. It's crafted to look like a goblin and is given a dagger and a cloak. To test out his new puppet he travels into the woods and uses his strings. The puppet is heavy. It'll take some time to adjust. But he fights air. When he spots a small squirrel out of the corner of his eye and *fwip*. The knife cuts it down. The practice is successful and now we get revenge.