WILL write : fluff , angst ( heavy or light) , age gap ( depending ) , male reader , gn reader , female reader , trans reader, plus size reader , any other kind of reader ( just include in request β‘ )
βI want to write a fic about this but I donβt think anybody will be interested in itβ ummm hello excuse me maβam what do you mean you donβt think anybody will be interested in it??? YOU. YOU ARE INTERESTED IN IT???? write it because YOU are interested in it and YOU want to write about it. fanfic writing should always be first and foremost about YOUR enjoyment, not other peopleβs.
Finally putting effort in getting back into reading. I've not completed a book in so long! Starting off with "Night Shift" by Stephen King. I've finished the first part, "Jerusalem Lot," while at work today ( Monday's our slow day). I'm really proud of myself. Going to try and see how much more I can get through tomorrow. My goal is to try and finish the whole book within a week or two.
More Dipper angst. Thinking about writing more of this on a03
wc : 763
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Dipper stared. It was all he could do. His legs were bruised and bloody. His hands dug into the cold mud beneath him. He just needed something to ground him. Above him the demon grew, loud cackles echoing throughout the dark woods.
βPoor little human boy. Can't handle it anymore, can you?β The demon cackled again. White hot flames surged around them. Dipper could feel the heat licking at his already damaged skin. He dug his hands deeper into the mud, forcing himself to remain still. He couldn't show fear. He had to survive.
The demon surged forwards sending Dipper flying back. The boy hit hard against the tree with enough force to send the branches shaking. Autumn leaves fell around him. If it wasn't for the situation at hand it would have been pretty. Dipper forced his head up, no matter how difficult it felt. His vision swam but he looked the demon in the eyes. βYou don't scare me.β Dipper was proud his voice didn't shake.
The demon's look was pure hatred. The flames shot higher, scorching the trees around them. Dipper hissed as his clothes were singed, heat kissing his skin beneath.
βYou can't survive me! I'm a God compared to you! There's nothing you can do!β
Dipper met the demon's eyes again. He laughed. βI've survived worse. I survived Bill Cipher. A chaos like no other. You're nothing compared to that.β
Dipper's words struck hard. The demon surrounded him, flame covered hand shoving against his throat. Dipper rose in the air, his legs dangling uselessly. The demon shoved him harder against the tree, wood splintering against Dipper's back. Quietly Dipper wondered if his spine would survive this.
βBill? Bill Cipher?β The demon laughed, loud and cold. βThat thing is nothing compared to me. I'm stronger. More powerful. I can kill you little human!β
Dipper struggled against the Demon's hand, thrashing as much as he could. It did little. The Demon simply tightened his grip, sending his flames to burn against Dipper's face. βThe more you try the worse I can make this Mason Pines.β
Dipper stilled, cold fear shooting through him. He could smell the burnt flesh of himself. It was sickening. βHow do you know my name?β
The Demon's mouth curled, sharp jagged teeth showing. βI know everything about you, Mason. You're known across many universes. You and your family.β
Dipper's heart spiked. He could feel the blood pumping hard through his ears. βYou don't know shit!β
The Demon tilted its head, a look of amusement appearing. The flames lessened just enough to reveal more of its grotesque appearance. A face Dipper wouldn't forget. βOh? I know plenty, little human. Your uncles? Stanford, a smart man but not smart enough. Stanley? Less than his brother, but strong. He would be fun to break.β The Demon's eyes lit with flames, smiled down at Dipper. βNow who am I forgetting, hm? Oh, yes, Mable. Your dear little twin.β
Dipper thrashed against the Demon. He beat his hands against the arm holding him hostage. βShut up! Stay away from them! They haven't done anything. They're innocent.β
The Demon's teeth appeared again. He had found Dipper's weak point easily. βYou can't save them this time, Mason. They'll die and you can't do anything but watch.β
The Demon pulled its hand away. Dipper fell to the ground with a sick crack echoing. He panted, barely able to take in any air. βNo, no, no! You can't. You won't. I'll stop you!β
The Demon cackled. βYou're just a human. You can't do anything. Not to me. Your family and friends will die Mason. And it will be your fault.β Flames surrounded the Demon and it was gone. All that was left was the scorched earth from where it stood.
Dipper struggled to crawl away with one arm, slumping back against the nearest tree. His left arm hung limp against the ground. His head pounded, his chest hurt, and he might have fractured or broken ribs. His skin still burned from the flames that touched him. Dipper lifted his eyes to the sky, watching the night shine with stars. It was ironic really. He struggled to breathe. His body was damaged beyond help. Dipper couldn't move. He couldn't warn his family or friends, he couldn't help them, he couldn't save them. Dipper couldn't even save himself. His vision swam, black spots beginning to appear. βIβ¦I wanna make a dealβ¦β He whispered into the night. Just before his vision fully went black he saw a shadow. A familiar shadow and the soft thump of a cane.
Got inspired, might expand on it later. Inspiration came from hunger games and the lottery β‘
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EVERY year there were four. Who were these four exactly? Well they were the chosen ones. Four names that were drawn from the little blue bucket. This bucket held the names of all the town folks from the age of sixteen and up. This year the bad luck of the Pines twins grew. The day of their sixteenth birthday their names were dropped in. Dipper and Mable stood beside their uncles, their hands clasped tightly together. Mabel hummed to herself, trying to keep calm. It did little to help.
Dipper looked from his uncles to his sister. He could see the fear in her eyes. Only Dipper could see the slight trembling of Mabel's hand. Her hand tensed against his repeatedly. It raised a familiar emotion in Dipper. I will protect her. His hand squeezed hers as if silently a deal was set.
The town folk waited with baited breaths as the Mayor stepped onto the stage. His boots clicked against the wooden floor as he crossed toward the middle. His eyes looked over the people, his cheerful smile feeling wrong in the current setting. He spoke quickly but clearly. His words expanded loudly over the waiting crowd. Then his hand lowered. He plucked a small slip of paper from the bucket and held it up. βCassie Andrews!β The first chosen one was declared. Wails of loved ones broke the silence. Those around not called looked on in relief, but respectfully remained silent. The next name was Shaw Hendricks, then the third, Tiffany Lang. One name remained. Mabel clutched tighter at Dipper's hand till the tingling numbness appeared. The Mayor pulled out the fourth slip, the final one.
βMabel Pines!β
Coldness settled. Stan's yells filled the air, full of curses and threats. Ford's expression was a mix of shock and dread. His lips parted but no words came out. Dipper turned to Mabel. Her eyes were glassy, her trembling more noticeable now. Fear shot through Dipper. His sister, his best friend was cursed with the act of being chosen. Mabel, a girl with a heart of gold, who always looked for the best in everyone. Mabel who cared the most. Dipper couldn't let Mabel meet the same fate as past chosens. Mabel deserved life. Dipper would make sure of it. Before he could even really think about it, his voice rose loud and clear. βI, Mason Pines, wish to be chosen!β
Shocked gasps filled the room as all eyes snapped to the boy. Mabel cried out, βNo Dipper!β But it was too late. A declaration of such degree could not be taken back. Once Dipper had spoken his words became set in stone. Dipper Pines was now a chosen one. He looked at Mabel, he didn't regret his choice.
Husband!KΓΆnig who lets his stubble grow out for you. is it itchy and a little patchy? yes, but when you come up to paw at his jaw and cheeks? heβd be a fool to shave it off, melting into your hands as a pleased hum leaves him. it doesnβt matter how hard you squish his face, the feeling of your hands on him anywhere makes him content. it only goes south when he starts rubbing his face against your cheeks and neck, stubble scratching at your skin. so what if he traps you against his frame, locked by his arms? you were the one who pleaded he not shave, heβs simply returning your affections, Schatzi
